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Targa Chaos

Often a little thing will make a big difference. For example, if you are offered a massage by a teenage Asian pole dancer it’s likely your pulse will quicken. Offered exactly the same service by a woman with the hint of a mustache who reminds you of your mother, its likely your attitude will be a little more reluctant. Given the matronly one will have experienced hands, it’s certain she will provide the most value and the wise should accept that offer. So it was when Volkswagen offered me a car to tour Italy. I had secretly hoped for a Sirocco and was initially disappointed to learn that our carriage was to be a 2^nd generation Passat BlueMotion TDi Variant - with ‘stop/start technology’.  

Even now I occasionally exhibit a lack of wisdom. Volkswagens choice was inspired. As I was accompanied by my Minister of Travel, Finance and Domestic and Cultural Affairs, the enormous luggage facilities proved to have a sedentary effect on my passenger that would have been lacking in the smaller sportier sibling. Its astonishing dislike of fuel stations was another feature that provided unexpected advantage – the Minister of Finance & Culture was able to raise the quality standard of the wine being researched.

The initial acquaintance with the Passat was one of vague concern. It was raining and evening rush hour on the day before a long weekend. The Volkswagen representative at Frankfurt Airport seemed unnaturally eager to give the car away. He thrust the keys at me and disappeared into the gloom. I then had difficulty teaching the GPS system English so that I could set off on our journey without becoming immediately lost in Germany’s largest traffic hub.

In my past experience black cars require regular washing, are uncomfortably hot, seem to be invisible to other motorists and tend to be owned by those who consider themselves sophisticated. The Passat was also big. Compared to most of the cars in Europe it is big. In Italy where we were headed, big also means important. One doesn’t mess with others who drive big black cars. It did however create a few challenges in the narrow streets of ancient villages and in Rome. Our navigation of alleys usually inhabited by 3 wheeled Piaggio wheelbarrows and minicars of unknown parentage did raise a few eyebrows and I believe resulted in respect for the VW lock and clutch ... not to mention the retracting mirrors. Having said that, I will never take a car of any dimension to Rome ever again. That means I have seen the last of that city which is the ‘Auckland’ of Italy. Enough said.

Italy as a choice for touring during the weeks prior to the Nurburgring 24 hour race was the decision of my Minister of Travel. I reminded her that 33 years ago I had checked the country out in a London Taxi that had an unusual accessory in the rear passenger compartment – a 200 litre barrel of wine. On that previous visit I was escorted out of Rome by the Carabinieri who considered that taking a shortcut down some historic steps showed a lack of respect and good judgment. However, she wished to give the Pope some advice on a number of subjects and I accepted the inevitability of the journey. But – not before instigating a cunning plan. The least I could do was to propose the route around the country. Helpful in the extreme I was. “You concentrate on Rome and leave all the rest to me to me”.

One of the greatest driving feats in automotive history was the winning of the Mille Miglia by Stirling Moss and Denis Jenkinson in 1955. 1,000 miles in the record time of ten hours, seven minutes and 48 seconds at the wheel of the Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR at an average speed of 98.53mph (158.57kph). In 1976 I had driven the Rome to Brescia (the shorter last half) in a record time for the London Taxi class but wished to complete the circuit to gain a complete appreciation of that stupendous effort. In that event ‘Jenks’ invented pace notes – I now had GPS. The Mille Miglia route varied considerably over the years but my extensive internet research revealed the one taken by Moss on that famous occasion.

We started at the Mille Miglia Museum near Brescia. This is well worth a visit and I was able to confirm a few route details that had remained vague. My Minister of Culture and ‘co-driver’ took the opportunity of saving the Italian economy by purchasing a silk scarf in the shop. Her reasoning was that she thought that in one faded, grainy, black & white picture, Jenks was wearing a silk scarf. My comment that he was also wearing greasy overalls and hadn’t had a change of underwear for quite some time was ignored.

In 1955 the route was mostly the major sealed highways of the era.  Unfortunately, many of those original roads have been upgraded to multilane highways. Where possible we took the ‘B’ roads through the countryside and villages. These roads have also been ‘civilized’ and the villages have mostly become towns with an historic heart surrounded by an ugly industrial sprawl. It wasn’t at all like my experiences 33 years ago and in fact, a disappointment. There is a modern recreation of the Mille Miglia each year by extremely wealthy people in priceless cars but their route is designed to provide motoring pleasures that ‘sort of’ reproduce the original nature of the event. Following that route would now be a much better experience than trying to battle with millions of Italians about their daily business on the original.

I had never understood how Moss could establish such a high average speed. Most of the pictures of the race showed twisty mountain or narrow village roads. The reality I discovered is that a large percentage of the route is over enormous flat plains on straight roads designed by the Roman Legions to scurry along to their next disagreement. Some of these straights are 20 – 40 kilometers long with a kink into the next straight. The leading competitors could drive flat out for long distances in cars that were capable of around 250kph. We drove the Passat flat out too – just to keep up with the natives who drive with remarkable skill, determination and panache. 

In Moss’s race it was even more nerve-wracking than current driving in Italy. The roads were officially closed for the event but that meant little to the locals outside the towns. The organizers couldn’t ‘tape off’ the roads or have marshals hovering about to shout at dawdling idiots. Around any corner there was likely to be a woman or donkey loaded with firewood staggering down the middle of the road. I imagine there were a few bundles dropped after the application of air horns and squealing tyres. The museum indicated that many didn’t jump fast enough and there were many retirements from the event when drivers discovered a donkey on the bonnet.  

In most instances the whole distance was driven by one person, often alone, and all at the very highest speed possible. An indication of the stress can be gained from the knowledge that many fortified themselves with cognac at each service stop. It’s well known that Moss could never have driven the distance without the assistance of amphetamines. During my much shorter driving periods I survived on adrenalin alone. Lots of it. Driving in Italy today is still a very focusing experience.

Some of the hill roads remain a challenging drive – but nowadays have to be shared with Italian motorcyclists. There is little wonder to me that Valentino Rossi is so capable. He has thousands of fans out practicing to follow in his footsteps. A few of them who cut the corners at speed almost found themselves with a large VW imprint in their foreheads. I now know why most European cars have a big logo on the grill – it helps to keep the score.

My Minister of Travel kept the performance score for our 2lt diesel Passat. It was truly astonishing. Given this is a large family car and it was driven on a mission in the Italian fashion without concern for economy, it returned a remarkable result. On autobahns, motorways and any other road where the locals set the example, I found we were cruising at 140 – 160kph … with the need to go faster if appropriately challenged. The gear number is shown on the dash together with an arrow indicating the driver should change up or down and a dot that indicates one is in the correct ratio. By simply following these instructions the car will sip diesel with as little enthusiasm as a squealing child being offered cod liver oil with lemon juice. Early in the journey I found myself tapping the fuel gauge to check if it had died. Distances of around 1200km per 70 litre tank fill were typically achieved throughout our journey. Our overall average was 5.8lt per 100km – in a big car working hard to keep up with Alfa’s and loaded with paraphernalia to meet any potential occasion. (If I had needed an ice axe to rescue things from our hotel freezer we would have found it in a bag – probably amongst the gardening equipment right under the Swine Flue inoculation kit.) This car is designed to save the worlds natural resources, avoid global warning and hasten economic recovery. If you have shares in an oil company I recommend you sell them.

Volkswagen suggests the stop/start technology adds 8% to the fuel economy. They may be right. I quickly became used to it. When the car stops moving, the gearlever is put in neutral and the clutch is let out – the engine stops. To restart, simply push the clutch. It starts instantly, select 1st gear and move off. It’s very simple. The auto version is even easier, just push the accelerator. It may however, not be popular in Italy. By the time I pushed the clutch, engaged 1^st and moved along (around 1.5 seconds) I had been tooted at by most of the traffic behind, beaten off the line by a nun in a Fiat Panda and had an old lady wobble in front of me on her bicycle. It was humiliating.

After 3 weeks in Italy we formed some conclusions … 

Italy : A country with a dysfunctional administration that is effectively run by the populace in an inspired way. There is economic growth, an improving standard of living and a zest for life. The country is organized chaos – and it works.

Italians : Their love of the automobile is universal and, in spite of having nowhere to park them, is a huge source of pride. Their driving skills are remarkable. There are relatively few accidents but near misses by the minute. I suspect they develop exceptional distance judgment, width perception and peripheral vision while still in the womb. Their tolerance for others is extraordinary.

Mille Miglia : Arguably the best and most challenging vehicle race of all time.  It is beyond our conception in this PC world.  The fact that the majority of competitors actually survived astonishes me.

VW Passat : Likely the most economical large family production vehicle in the history of the world. I was on a mission and drove accordingly. There was no effort to conserve fuel yet returned and average of 5.8 litres per 100km over 7,500 kilometers. Volkswagens expectation of 5.1 lts/100km is very achievable during normal NZ use.

It’s performance would be described as ‘adequate’ in Europe but quite enough to give our MOT heart palpitations. Simply let the torque do all the work. It’s quite stable at over 200kph – slightly downhill trying to beat an Alfa Romeo to a car parking spot.

Maurice O’Reilly