My Cars: Porsche 924S

The classic front engined, rear wheel drive GT has to be one of the most evocative profiles in motoring. It conjures up images of playboys in continent-crushing Aston Martins and Ferraris howling around alpine passes to the sound of Matt Monroe. It's all so exotic and unobtainable. Or is it?

Whilst I had my 205 GTi up for sale, I began considering a replacement. I wanted an affordable sports car that would not only introduce me to rear wheel drive, but also serve as a genuinely realistic mode of every day transport. I considered various options, but in the end I homed in on either the Porsche 924 or 944. I eventually choose the 924S, which technically speaking is an amalgamation of the two - arguably containing the best bits of both.

Porsche designed the original 924 for Audi using various bits from the VAG parts bin including the two-litre, four-cylinder engine used in the Audi 100 and the Volkswagen LT van. When Audi backed out of the deal, Porsche bought the rights to the project for £40million – a cool £6million less than they'd charged in development costs. Upon its release, the car met with a lukewarm reaction. Porsche enthusiasts took a dislike to the use of a water-cooled engine – in particular its location at the front of the car and modest 125hp output. However there was no denying that the company was onto something with the beautifully balanced transaxle layout and pretty, yet practical, body. Its eventual successor, the 944, was released six years later with a 2.5 litre, 165hp engine developed in-house from the 928's V8. It featured an all-new body shell along with a whole raft of improvements to the suspension, transmission and brakes. Curiosity rapidly got the better of the Porsche engineers, who began experimenting with the improved mechanics of the 944 in the lighter, slipperier shell of the 924.
The result was the 924S and initially it seems to have worked a little too well – the cars were noticeably quicker than the base model 944 and production models were fitted with low compression pistons to reduce their power output. Even so, 0-60 took around 8 seconds and the top speed was in excess of 130mph. It wasn't until the final year of production – with the eight valve 944 safely out of the way – that the full specification engine was put in. There was little doubt that the performance of the 924S eclipsed that of the 944, however to this day the stigma of the original 'van-engined' car remains and the prices have never really recovered. This is, however, great news for the budget-conscious buyer, which is exactly where I fit in… In April 2006 I part exchanged my troublesome Pug for a 1988 924S, costing a grand total of £1,900.



The first thing that struck me coming from a hot hatch is how differently the performance was delivered. The 924S' long gearing and low coefficient of drag ensured it could hold its own on the autobahn, but it lacked the initial punch of something like the Pug. Once on the fly, the smooth, torquey engine delivered impressive real world pace, even if its reluctance to rev sometimes felt like someone had set the red line too low.

The car's real trump card was its balance. Thanks to the rear mounted transaxle it had a near-perfect 50:50 weight distribution, the benefits of which rapidly became clear. When provoked, the tail end would break away slowly and progressively. Correcting the slide was an equally relaxed affair; the beautifully direct steering allowed you to respond with precision, while the forgiving chassis meant you didn’t strictly need to. Sadly the feel was never quite there to back up the steering poise and a floaty ride further reduced the confidence that the excellent chassis would otherwise have generated. The brakes were also a little inert, with neither the stopping power nor the modulation that you might expect. These three points may well have related to the mechanical condition and tyre choice of my particular example; whatever the reason it seemed unfortunate that they were allowed to spoil such a competent chassis.

The story was much the same with other areas of the car. With the rear seats folded it had a truly huge loading area, which the hatchback allowed you to make maximum use of. Two mountain bike frames in the back? No problem, try that in an MX5… However actually accommodating adults in the back was almost impossible without some form of amputation. Likewise, its high gearing, torquey engine and respectable fuel consumption theoretically made it an ideal long distance tourer, but in reality its pint-sized fuel tank required repeated stops. Everywhere you looked, the 924S was full of contradictions.

All of these things led to a car that was frustrating, not for its shortcomings, but because it so obviously had the potential to be truly great. Its fundamental spec was a relatively compact, two plus two, rear wheel drive sports car with sublime balance, hugely practical boot space, cheap running costs and impressive reliability. What more could you need? It even had a removable targa panel in the roof, which made a surprisingly close approximation to open air motoring. The only things the fundamental concept lacked were a bit more power and some beefier brakes. I was sorely tempted to take the car on as a project and address those, but there was one problem, or rather there was already a solution…

For the cost of modifying a 924S to my requirements, there was already a car that fulfilled them all; the 944 S2. This used a version of the 944 engine that had been fitted with a sixteen valve head and bored out to three litres; it revved far more freely than the original unit and gained no less than 50hp. It also featured up-rated ventilated discs all round combined with an ABS system, the larger 944 fuel tank and the options of stiffer suspension and a limited slip diff.

So, why didn’t I buy a 944 S2? Well, simply the cost. It may have been more economical than modifying the existing car, but a decent example would still have been two or three times the price. And that's not really what the 924S was about – while they do have their foibles, they also offer a huge amount of car for the money and a very affordable entry into the sports car market. My example may be long gone, but I do sometimes find myself considering a return to Porsche ownership. If I did it would undoubtedly be a 944 S2, but this isn't due to hindsight – it's simply a result of having the means this time round. For the money, nothing beats the 924S.

My Cars: 205 GTi

My second car purchase was hailed as a star of the hot hatch world, but was it worth it?

Cars that reach iconic status tend to fall roughly into one of two categories. You get lavish offerings from people like Lamborghini with giant spoilers, huge engines and staggering performance; then you get the working class heroes of the automotive world – affordable cars with a hint of genius attached to them. The Peugeot 205 GTi is frequently banded around as an example of the latter, but is it really that good?

My 205 GTi ownership began more or less out of necessity. The Quantum was proving somewhat impractical for everyday transport and we were entering a horrendous winter, which thoroughly highlighted the shortcomings in its ageing soft top. To make life easier I decided to put the car into storage and get something more spacious … and watertight. At the time a colleague was selling his 1.9 Peugeot 205 GTi and it seemed like the ideal solution. It was a genuine four seater, a hatchback, a fixed head and reputedly good fun to drive.

The test drive was a little underwhelming. Sure, the Integrale owning car-nut who was selling it took me out to some b-roads and drove like an Italian (he was), but my own experience behind the wheel was less hair-raising. It went reasonably well and performance was probably on a par with the Quantum I'd stepped out of, but that somehow didn't live up to its legendary status. Still, it cornered smartly, everything looked tidy and it ticked all the right boxes for practicality. After a brief and not entirely successful spot of haggling I came away with the car.

I took my time getting accustomed to the 205, given its widow-maker reputation, but in honesty I think this is a little overstated. The famously mobile rear end was in most cases entertaining rather than shocking and despite letting go somewhat quicker than most hot hatches it would usually come back into line promptly given a little opposite lock. Driven with delicacy and respect it seemed to reward with the same qualities - turn in smoothly with a slight lift and the nose would tuck in without drama. The steering felt precise and beautifully linear, giving a good indication of the remaining grip. Sudden mid-corner braking may well have sent you into the undergrowth, but fortunately this was something I managed to avoid. The closest I ever came to hedge hunting was ironically whilst going in a straight line – driving down a dual carriage way one night I was about to overtake the car in front when they decided to change lanes. With traffic on one side and a substantial looking barrier on the other, my only choice was to hit the brakes. Even without locking the wheels, some minor imbalance in the car's chassis or road surface sent me into an almighty tank slapper. Luckily I had just about enough space to regain control and slow down before any lasting harm was done. My headlights made a frenzied trail in the dusk as the tail wagged from side to side and I got some very apologetic gestures from the car in front; personally I was just glad to be in one piece. There was little that could have been done to avoid the experience, but it served as a reminder that the 205 could still bare its claws.

Over the next few months the pug proved to be a very versatile car. Its taut chassis and smooth torquey engine proved entertaining over b-roads, whilst the back would seat up to three adults, or alternatively two full size mountain bike frames. The drawbacks were a hefty fuel economy penalty (struggling to make 25mpg) and a rather unpleasant resonance in the cabin that caused it to hum loudly at motorway speeds. The biggest issues however, were yet to materialise.

French cars of the 1980s do have something of a reputation for unreliability. Initially I dismissed this as the same sort of motoring stereotype that demands all Alfa Romeos must break down and all kit cars must fall apart, but bit by bit my pug started conforming to type. First the gear selector mechanism developed a habit of popping off - most notably whilst I was in the middle of a 4-lane roundabout coming off the A127. Next the alternator needed to be replaced. Shortly after that the mass airflow sensor packed in and then to compound matters it developed an intermittent immobiliser fault. By this time I was getting itchy feet and the prospect of something rear wheel drive appealed. After one grazed knuckle too many I part exchanged the car for my next purchase – a Porsche 924S.

So is the 205 GTi as good as it's made out to be? In most respects, yes. The handling and performance were a cut above its competitors, but perhaps not by as big a margin as the legends would have you believe. Its trump card was combining these attributes with a spacious, practical layout. There were no shortage of sportscars that could outperform a 205 GTi, but very few that you could truly use everyday. However, I can't help feeling that the Golf GTi of the same period may be a better solution – purists will argue that it isn't quite up to the standards of the pug dynamically, but it is undoubtedly close. Whatsmore it offers greater space, teutonic build quality and a more forgiving driving experience. The pug may be a great car, but looking at it with my head (if not my heart) I think the mk2 Golf Gti might just have been a better choice.

TVR World Excusive

April 1st 2008, Moscow

The announcement this morning that TVR were to release a new model sent shockwaves through the automotive industry. It transpires that the apparently-dead car makers were in fact closing down production to focus on the development of their new model, The Cyclops. The car, due to be unveiled at the prestigious Murmansk Motor Show in July, features a six litre twin turbo V10 hybrid power plant, capable of running on bio-ethanol. Whilst in town it uses a lithium-ion battery pack charged by a combination of regenerative braking and roof-mounted solar panels. Performance calculations suggest a top speed in excess of 260mph and a nought to sixty time of around two seconds.

A company insider using a not-entirely-plausible Russian accent was heard to remark: "This is the greatest car ever built. Well, when I say built – we mean designed. It was sketched on the back of Nikolai's history homework to the very highest standard. My only regret is that we had to delete the twin laser cannons and the anti-gravity device due to a cost save."

Amidst rumours that the new range would be built in Italy or Croatia, TVR have surprised the world by announcing plans to shift production to Monaco, citing cheaper labour costs than their native Blackpool as the main factor. However all models will now feature the union jack badges originally ordered by the Poowong Automotive Corporation for use on their range of Shanghai-built Austin Allegro derivatives. This is intended to emphasise the company's British heritage, along with dodgy electrical earths and tweed upholstery.

There's no word on price yet, but we expect it to cost around £399,999.99 when it finally goes on sale on April 1st next year.