classic convertibles
Blue-sky thinking…
David Milloy
Summertime is coming, that time of year when European air traffic controllers go on strike, the annual all-Britain roadworks championship takes place, and midges heartily tuck into the exposed flesh of unprepared tourists. It’s not all bad, though, as summer is also the time when people lucky enough to own a convertible can indulge in some al fresco (or as we say in Ayrshire, ‘taps aff’) motoring.
It’s great fun no matter what kind of convertible you’re driving, but we reckon it’s even better in a classic one. That being so, we’ve taken this opportunity to write about five very different classic convertibles that offer lots of smiles per mile. There’s a coupé-convertible, a 1970s British classic, an Italian roadster with front-wheel drive, a rear-wheel drive German ragtop that was built in the, er, USA, and a simple, rugged car that won’t get you anywhere quickly but might just be the best car ever made. So without further ado, lets meet them.
Triumph TR7 Convertible
(1979 to 1981)
When the original notchback TR7 coupe was launched in 1975, its somewhat challenging looks were the subject of much discussion. The story has it that when renowned designer Giorgetto Giugiaro first saw the TR7 at the 1975 Geneva Motor Show, he looked at the side of the car with a puzzled expression on his face before slowly walking round to the other side of it and exclaiming: “My God! They’ve done it to this side as well!”
Giugiaro’s comments didn’t apply to the convertible version of the TR7, launched in 1979, which was – and remains – a great looking motor car even with its canvas roof in place. But to the disappointment of many, the convertible TR7 was initially sold only in the USA, then an important market for British sports cars. It didn’t reach UK showrooms until the following year, by which time its days were already numbered on account of a global recession and BL’s need to cut costs. Production ended in 1981 and later proposals to return it to production under a new name in the former DeLorean factory in Belfast came to nothing.
Entering and exiting the cabin with the roof up requires a little dexterity. The cabin itself is pleasing on the eye and impressively roomy. And if you like tartan then you’ll love the TR7’s seats. There’s no tartan in the boot, though; instead, there’s a fair amount of space, as you’d expect from a car designed with the US market in mind.
Raising and lowering the roof is, like the steering, an entirely manual operation – no power-assistance here. When lowered, the roof nestles in a recess behind the seats and is covered by a tonneau held in place by studs; it looks fine but fastening the studs can be a bit tricky.
The TR7 convertible has the same running gear and suspension set-up as the notchback version, which means that its performance is reasonable, it has a comfortable ride, and it handles well, particularly by 1970s standards.
The TR7’s biggest enemies are rust and bodged structural repairs, so if you’re thinking of buying one then make sure you check it thoroughly for signs of either, and that means putting it on a car lift and carefully inspecting the underside. Also watch out for TR7s converted to take the Rover V8 engine. Let’s just say that some of these conversions were better executed than others. On the positive side, spare parts are still readily available and the model is catered for by several owner’s clubs.
You can pick up a TR7 convertible in good condition for around £6,000, but increasing your budget to £10,000 should be sufficient to net an excellent example. Basket-case examples are best avoided, no matter how cheap!
Owning a TR7 isn’t a chore, provided that corrosion hasn’t taken hold and any structural repairs have been properly done. It still looks great, keeps up well with modern traffic, and has an abundance of character.
Fiat Barchetta
(1995 to 2005)
There aren’t many two-seat roadsters which have front-wheel drive. The brilliant Lotus Elan M100, featured in issue 60, is one; the Fiat Barchetta (Italian for ‘little boat’) is another.
Launched in 1995 as a very much belated replacement for the Fiat 124 Sport Spider and X1/9 models, the Barchetta is, believe it or not, based on the floorpan of the first generation Fiat Punto.
At first glance, it’s a very pretty car; a very pretty small car. Indeed, it’s small enough to make tall people wonder about just how they’re going to squeeze into it with the roof up. It’s a valid concern but take it from us, the contortions required in order to seat one’s posterior in a Barchetta are worth it. Besides, there’s actually a reasonable amount of room in the Barchetta’s cabin; it’s cosy rather than cramped. The driving position is good too, and unlike many older Italian cars it doesn’t seem to have been configured specifically to suit people with long arms and short legs. There’s enough space in the boot for the weekly shop but a couple setting off for a two week road trip in a Barchetta should pack light and leave their suitcases at home.
The hood is manually operated – electric motors add weight and take up precious space – and stows away invisibly behind the seats. Raising and lowering it is straightforward and doesn’t require a lot of elbow grease.
The Barchetta’s 1747cc fuel-injected engine does a decent job of propelling it down the road. It’s smooth, untemperamental and the exhaust note has just enough of a rasp to remind you that you’re behind the wheel of a sporty Italian car. The Barchetta’s ride is good, its suspension being supple enough to take most road surfaces in its stride, which is just as well given the state of our roads. It handles well too, though abruptly coming off the throttle in the middle of a bend can cause the tail to swing out. The power-assisted steering is a joy to use, being both well-weighted and direct.
On the negative side, the gearchange has a long throw that’s at odds with the Barchetta’s sporting nature, a consequence of using parts intended for a small family car in a sports car. It’s not a deal-breaker, though.
Some people might be wary of the fact that the Barchetta was only ever made in left-hand drive form. There’s no need for concern, however, as it doesn’t take long to acclimatise to driving an LHD car in the UK. Yes, you do need to take more care when pulling out to overtake, but taking a little extra care can never be a bad thing. The biggest problem you’re likely to encounter is automatic ticket-dispensing barriers at car parks. Getting through these can be a chore if you’re travelling without a passenger in the right-hand seat, but it’s hardly an insurmountable problem.
Fiat only imported 751 Barchettas to the UK but at least as many again were privately imported. These privately-imported cars can sometimes be to a lesser specification than UK-market cars in terms of equipment; something to watch out for if you’re buying one.
Rust is another thing that prospective Barchetta owners should check for. As with all cars, get it on a lift and look at the underbody area – a shiny body can mask all sorts of nasties! In addition, watch out for worn variators (the engine will sound like a diesel), and water leaks to the cabin and boot.
You can pick up a Barchetta for £2000 but beware of rough or abused examples. Good, useable examples usually come in at over £5000, with the best ones priced at around £8000. Buy a good one and look after it; you’ll love it.
BMW Z4
(E85 model, 2003 to 2008)
If you fancy a sporty, American-built convertible then look no further than the first generation BMW Z4. Yup, that’s right, it was built in South Carolina.
The Z4 is a striking car – long, low, and muscular. Its bonnet seems almost comically long, so much so that an observer might be forgiven for thinking that the driver’s seat is in a different postcode area to the front wheels!
Getting into a Z4 with the roof up is a fairly painless process even for most tall drivers. Once inside, the cabin itself is roomy, with ample leg and head room. There’s nothing fancy about the interior, though; everything is laid out with ergonomics rather than style in mind. Consequently, it’s easy to find a good driving position. The electrically-powered roof is very quick and easy to operate and the boot has a reasonable amount of room for shopping and luggage.
The Z4’s engines are all mounted longitudinally rather than transversely – hence the long bonnet. All four engines – a 2.0 litre four-cylinder and 2.2, 2.5, and 3.0 litre six-cylinder units – have their cylinders in line, another reason for that long bonnet. All are smooth in operation but none of them can match, say, an Alfa Romeo Busso V6 in the sonic stakes. Your neighbours will appreciate that!
Performance is good across the range. The gearchange in manual versions (which most Z4s are) is quick and crisp, and the steering offers a reasonable level of feedback. The Z4’s ride is a little on the firm side but not unpleasantly so. Its handling is good in the dry with a fair amount of grip, though like most rear-wheel drive cars it tends to be a bit more challenging in the wet. Good quality tyres with an ‘A’ wet weather rating are a must.
The Z4 is a well-built car but isn’t without its issues. The most common issue lies with the hood motor which will fail if water gets at it; replacing it is expensive. The steering has electric power assistance, the motor for which can wear out and result in sticky or jerky steering. Finally, problems can arise with the VANOS variable valve-timing system which can necessitate the replacement of the solenoid (a tricky job) or of the whole VANOS unit.
With decent examples available for around £2500, the Z4 is something of a bargain. As always, though, buying the best one you can afford makes sense in the long run.
Citroën Dyane
(1967 to 1983)
Some people say that the Citroën 2CV is the greatest car ever built, but we think they’re wrong about that. In our view, the 2CV’s younger sibling, the Dyane, is actually an ever better car.
We’ll get to that, but first let’s talk history. Launched in 1948, the 2CV was based on a pre-war design, the TPV (Toute Petite Voiture), that Citroën attempted to hide from the Nazis during the occupation of France. When the 2CV hit the market, its combination of space efficiency, supple ride, low purchase price, and simple, rugged mechanicals caused nothing short of a transport revolution in rural France. Now people living in the country could quickly and easily take themselves and their wares to market over the rough roads and rutted fields of the champagne.
The 2CV’s roof opened right along its length and made it easy to transport tall items as well as offering open-top motoring in the French sunshine. It had few creature comforts to begin with, though it gained some over the years. It wasn’t until 1967, however, that it got the one thing that it needed to make it a complete package: a hatchback. And that’s where the Dyane came in.
To all intents and purposes, the Dyane is simply a 2CV with a hatchback. Its makers, however, decided that it should be positioned slightly upmarket of the 2CV, so in addition to a restyled body, it offered some creature comforts – not many, perhaps, but more than its cheaper sister.
Getting into and out of a Dyane is easy. There’s heaps of room inside but, we repeat, not much in the way of luxury. The opening roof, hatchback design, flat floor and removable rear seats do, however, make the Dyane pretty much the last word in practicality.
The air-cooled two-cylinder engine emits a distinctive sound – a bit like a food mixer on quiet mode – as it gently pulls the Dyane along. You will not be breaking any speed records in this car. The soft suspension smooths out even the roughest road and the roadholding is good, although the Dyane rolls likes the Queen Mary if its asked to take a corner with any degree of enthusiasm.
The gearlever is mounted on the dash rather than on the floor. Acclimatising to it is easy, which is just as well as you’ll need to make good use of it to keep up with other traffic.
As with all older cars, the Dyane is vulnerable to rust. Its simple construction does, however, make it a bit easier to effectively treat corrosion than is the case with many other cars. It’s also one of the easiest cars for home mechanics to work on.
There are only around 340 Dyanes currently taxed for use in the UK but as Citroën sold millions of 2CVs and Dyanes, spares availability is good. Your hardest problem might be finding one to buy, but if you do then expect to pay between £8000 to £10,000 for a nice example.
If utilitarian vehicles with a soupçon of chic are your thing then the Dyane’s the car for you.
So that’s our selection of classic convertibles. We’ll take one of each, please; there’s no need to gift-wrap them. Ultimately, though, it doesn’t matter what make or model of convertible you have – there’s no ceiling on the amount of fun you can have in one.
