You'll itch to drive it (Alfa Romeo 156 2.5 V6 24V)

Member Name: wayfarer

Product:	Alfa Romeo 156 2.5 V6 24V
Date:	05/02/01 (3596 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: Looks, Driver Appeal

Disadvantages: Large turning Circle, Small Boot Opening, Poor Ground Clearance

I bought my 156 V6 about a year ago, importing it from Holland. The local Alfa dealer in UK never did commit himself to a firm quote for a car without sportpack (I do like white dials, but I don’t like the skirts, and the ground clearance is questionable enough in speed hump-infested suburbia, without lowered suspension) but with sunroof and leather. I understood his reticence when I found I could get the car home all paid for about £5,000 less than the price list he waved at me. So I paid the deposit and waited with growing impatience as the lease ran over on the company Golf VR6 I was replacing. I collected it from the dealer a month ahead of the six promised (the only unexpected snag was that the Dutch dealer closed all weekend), and it’s been a love thing ever since.

I won’t try to persuade you that it’s a perfect car. It’s far from that, and your head (and your accountant) will nag you to buy a BMW 3-series. But those are so common (i.e. ubiquitous) and the extras you want are ruinously expensive. The depreciation figures don’t look nearly so good if you buy them and you’ll never sell the thing if you don’t.

Let’s face it, nothing looks as drop-dead gorgeous as the Alfa 156, from any angle. How, or if, they’ll face-lift it remains to be seen, but any change I can think of would be negative. Oh, hang on, the flat, telephone-dial alloy wheels that the non-sportpack cars come with are pretty uncomplimentary, definitely room for improvement there. That’s it, though. But looks are not the most important thing (after all, I used to run a Golf), a car is for driving. The Alfa is just great to drive. On the motorway, the steering is just a little reluctant to stay on-centre, but it’s quiet and comfortable long-term, and the driving position isn’t too Italian even for a 34” inside leg. The height and rake adjustable steering wheel helps enormously here
, though if Mr A. Romeo could find a way of moving the seat back just another inch or two, my joy would be unconfined. This would reduce the legroom in the back seat to approximately zilch, though, so I’d have to have my son’s legs amputated below the knee.

The lovely burbling rasp of the V6 is with you all the time, not obtrusively, and the 190 bhp whips you up and over the legal limit in no time, helped by a nice 6 (yes, six) speed gearbox. This has a lovely smooth (apart from first to second, to which there is a knack) retro feel via a longish lever that sprouts from the front of the console rather like Alfas of old. The clutch has an odd action that doesn’t bite until the very top of the pedal, but doesn’t release until the very bottom. You get used to it. Unlike the VW, the Alfa six has very little flywheel effect, and so quick changes are the best on the way up, and you can play tunes on the way down. It seems odd to have the extra gear on a V6 with 2.5 litres, and it isn’t an overdrive, but this is not an engine with massive grunt from tickover. In fact, you’ll find a quick drop from sixth to fifth a good idea in some motorway situations. It sounds so good, you’ll be thankful for the excuse. Once the engine is spinning the power is delivered strongly and smoothly all the way to the rev limiter. This will take you by surprise until you get the hang of the way the needle shoots towards the redline when you depress your size 10, so it’s just as well it works.

Off the motorway and on normal roads, the car really shines. The combination of really quick steering with great turn-in and apparently limitless grip will have you choosing the twistiest roads, and negotiating them in a fashion that will have weaker-stomached passengers searching the car for brown paper bags. If you specified the leather it cleans up well, so carry on playing with six gears and revelling in the now glorious so
unds this car makes.

Back, too soon, in the 30 limit, the first speed hump reveals that the under-tray will ground unless you slow right down to residents-association approved speeds. At the supermarket, the boot reveals itself to be adequately large, but the turning circle is larger still. It’s darned embarrassing, having to reverse to get around ramps in multi-storey car parks, but believe it or not such is the case. If, encouraged by the remaining space in the boot, you call in to the electrical warehouse, you’ll find that nothing fatter than your middle-sized suitcase will go through the hole, and you’ll have to send one of your back seat passengers home by bus to get the 14” TV in. And so the Sportwagon was invented.

This sounds like a very niggly story, and I did warn you that this is not a perfect car. If you want a near-perfect, A-to-B status machine that nobody will argue with you for buying, take your accountant’s advice and get that BMW 3, probably a diesel with the badge-free option, in silver. If you can stand the dinner-party controversy and want a car that looks unusual but wonderful, goes, stops and corners in an incredibly satisfying manner, and that you will itch to take out of the garage and drive at every opportunity, get the best Alfa 156 you can afford. In red.

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