Would You Buy A Blast From The Past?

This post was inspired by a pucker hot hatch I came across parked near my university campus this week. A J-reg Renault Clio might not sound like the basis for a particularly exciting discussion, but this was a cosmetically-original Clio Williams, one of a limited edition run that found fame in the Nineties as the desirable speedy supermini. With many being converted to rally spec or falling victim to the Max Power generation, original, healthy examples aren’t that common, so this was a rare spot. I later glimpsed the owner, and far from being a washed up car nut grasping to recapture his youth, the 147 bhp navy classic belonged to a fellow loan-dependent student.

It got me thinking, if you’re a young driver who’s into your cars, and want to trade up from the runabout you learnt in, what does going golden oldie get you over what you could spend on some brand new metal? For argument’s sake, the Fiat 500 TwinAir Adnan played hide and seek in last week goes for around £12,000. A tidy Clio Williams can be had for £5,000, and the thorny problem of insurance? Well I’m fairly typical, a 20 year old male with a year’s no claims, and my best quote is: £1,570. Not cheap I grant you, but we’ve hypothetically spent just half of what Fiat asks for its trendy, chic little retro-mobile.

Of course, the new car gets a warranty, several airbags, the latest know-how in crash test body construction, and you don’t have to pay the government a penny in road tax because its tiny two-pot only coughs out 95g of CO2 for every km you go. The Fiat is the car your parents want you in – it’s safe, reliable, economical, not quick enough to get you into serious trouble, and has the electronic whizz-bangery underneath to get you out again.

Now to plenty, that’s job done, goodnight, I’ll have the Fiat, thanks very much. But if you’re serious about your driving, and place enjoyment behind the wheel high on your list of priorities when buying a small car (and who doesn’t) then the Williams, and similarly aged pocket rockets start to make plenty of sense. I’ve had the privilege of being passengered in a well driven one along a testing B-road, with crests, blind brows, tight turns and sweeping bends. The suspension is way more supple than a modern hot hatch (and a bouncy 500, for that matter), and that, coupled with the fact you sit considerably lower than a Noughties era supermini, means you feel like you’re carrying plenty of speed and can chuck the car about, without really troubling its components, and your wallet.

What’s more, when bits do break off or stop working, a lack of onboard electrical systems to diagnose every fault, or cause them in the first place, means fixing your own car is a far easier. I should know, I’ve got a Ka, and what it lacks in street cred it carries in ruggedness. If something goes wrong, it’s a case of breaking out the Haynes manual and the toolbox and getting stuck in. No labour costs, no dealer messing about, just learning about your own machine and keeping it in decent nick.

I’m aware this is a well-worn point, but the notion of grabbing a cracking hot hatch from a few years ago, versus simply wanting what’s advertised during music channel breaks is so tempting. That’s not to say I wish I’d passed my test in the Eighties because the Peugeot 205 GTi is The Best Hot Hatch Possible; my ‘real world’ lottery win car would be either a Suzuki Swift Sport or RenaultSport Twingo Cup – they’re ridiculously desirable. I’m not averse to brand new cars at all. For half the outlay though, a Clio Williams, Lupo GTi or Fiesta XR2i to name a few are too interesting to ignore.

If you’re tempted by some blasts from the past as your next wheels, or are already the proud custodian of a modern classic, spill the beans in the comments below.