Ah, Italy. Land of good-looking people, heavenly Tuscan vistas, and unfeasibly expensive cups of coffee. And of course wonderful cars. Wonderful, if sometimes flawed, cars.
Loadspace not that usable; anyone care?
Oddly, we haven't cast our Shedly gaze in the direction of an Alfa 156 for at least 18 months. It could be considerably longer: Shed just can't be bothered to go back through the crumpled bits of paper in an old ex-WD filing cabinet that constitutes his filing system.
And that absence of 156s is odd, because there is certainly no shortage of sub-£1k fare to choose from. The feeling that there'll always be another one along in a minute could be why we've largely ignored them, because in truth there isn't a lot that's bad to say about Alfa's 3 Series, and a lot more that's good. The early 156s were a bit poorly put together, sure: Shed well remembers the foibles of the official press car back in '98 - a speedo needle that stuck until you tapped it, and the almost total absence of glue from the door seals on the driver's side, necessitating some gymnastic dexterity to effect entry - but by jingo it was a fine drive. The steering was exquisite, with turn-in so sweet and crisp you felt like every corner ought to be accompanied by the ambrosial strains of Thomas Tallis performed by a top-notch cathedral choir.
V6 sans leather? This is Shedding!
At first sight, the one that's finally broken our radio silence looks a bit uninspiring. It's
a Wagon
, which is interesting, but it's in poverty spec, and apparently painted in very un-Italian Doom Blue: hard to be sure on that though, as the shots seem to have been taken from behind a set of net curtains.
But in a funny sort of way, that sackcloth'n'ashes spec adds to its appeal. By giving it a certain drabness, a Britishness almost, it makes you concentrate on the substance and functionality of the car rather than on the showy bits - which are the distractions you normally have to bring into play whenever you need to justify an Alfa purchase to the OH.
So, with no leather or jazzy paint, what's left? Just a couple of things, really. One of the most thrilling mainstream engines ever, in one of the best-styled estate car bodies ever. That's a subjective view of course, but there's no arguing with the thick end of 190hp. Well, there is, Italian hp can be slightly smaller than European hp, so you could fit more of them into an engine and thereby claim a nice high number down the trattoria. That was handy too, as Italians like to make large claims. They're known for it. In fact, bragadoccio is the Italian word for showing off. Coincidence? Shed thinks not.
The consensus view on 156s was that the fours handled better than the slightly nose-heavy sixes, but the fruity zing of that big-hearted and sonorous V6 was more than ample compensation. Water leaks, absent-minded electrics and cracked head gaskets mainly affected early cars; later ones are actually quite reliable, and the sixes especially so, as long as you feed them the right amount of oil and a new cambelt on a regular basis.
Any high-cost items to keep an eye on? Not really. Squeaky front suspension is a cheap fix with a new set of upper wishbones; you might have an airbag warning light, which usually doesn't point to a failed airbag, but to a displaced cable under the seat; and dodgy rear bushes, E36-style. Which reminds Shed of another E36 titbit, which is that the BMW was beaten by the Alfa in an Autocar twin test back in '98. So there.
It's always nice to read the words 'recent service' in any ad, Alfa or not. Along with the other comfortingly expensive bits of work this vendor has had done, it goes towards painting a few more numbers on the roulette wheel black. Which is handy when you're putting your money down on the green baize.