Cinquecento sporting
parp parp.....toot toot.....approaching a nice, clear, dry roundabout, my hands grip the chunky leather steering wheel, im grinning like a maniac as i blip the throttle and expertly match the revs as i change down the gears..the wee car responds urgently, the leather clad gear lever feels perfect in my hands, the gears are slick and smooth, the baby buckets fit my 6ft frame perfectly...into third now, roundabout seems clear, so i floor it and clip the apex as i pull the wheel round....im laughing out loud now, this wee buzbomb seems so alive, so chuckable, so friendly....foot flat to the floor, the chunky little alloys and sticky Pirelli rubber grip into the road and the cinq rockets thru the roundabout, flat in third..im Juan Schumacher McRae Villeneuve in my head by now, the rev counter zings around as we exit the turn and i snatch fourth.....hard on the accelerator as i punch on down the road towards the next grin inducing series of bends on my personal racetrack......and its then im passed...by a Citroën xsara...diesel....driven by an oap...who appears to be knitting a particularly vile winter jersey for a nephew or grandson that she obviously dislikes intensely......she is completely unaware of my heroic driving ability and good humour at this moment, because I’ve been enjoying myself at about 40mph..in my head, the wee cinq is a Monte Carlo stage weapon, a circuit racer, a targa florio racer made for the road.....in reality, it’s an overtired shopping trolley with immense feelgood factor and about 50hp....this manic little buzzsaw majors on smiles per gallon....i love it.....
parp parp.....toot toot.....approaching a nice, clear, dry roundabout, my hands grip the chunky leather steering wheel, im grinning like a maniac as i blip the throttle and expertly match the revs as i change down the gears..the wee car responds urgently, the leather clad gear lever feels perfect in my hands, the gears are slick and smooth, the baby buckets fit my 6ft frame perfectly...into third now, roundabout seems clear, so i floor it and clip the apex as i pull the wheel round....im laughing out loud now, this wee buzbomb seems so alive, so chuckable, so friendly....foot flat to the floor, the chunky little alloys and sticky Pirelli rubber grip into the road and the cinq rockets thru the roundabout, flat in third..im Juan Schumacher McRae Villeneuve in my head by now, the rev counter zings around as we exit the turn and i snatch fourth.....hard on the accelerator as i punch on down the road towards the next grin inducing series of bends on my personal racetrack......and its then im passed...by a Citroën xsara...diesel....driven by an oap...who appears to be knitting a particularly vile winter jersey for a nephew or grandson that she obviously dislikes intensely......she is completely unaware of my heroic driving ability and good humour at this moment, because I’ve been enjoying myself at about 40mph..in my head, the wee cinq is a Monte Carlo stage weapon, a circuit racer, a targa florio racer made for the road.....in reality, it’s an overtired shopping trolley with immense feelgood factor and about 50hp....this manic little buzzsaw majors on smiles per gallon....i love it.....
