Alfas have flaws, they feel human, as if they have a soul and a temper. Each one is like the tortured hero of a Russian novel, a car of extraordinary depths, a car you can never truly fathom, especially when it four in the morning and it is enveloped in a cloud of steam, yet again, on the North Circular.
They are like cocaine. The unimaginable highs are always matched by immense, brooding lows. Massive electrical storm that inevitably follow a glorious sultry evening.
– Jeremy Clarkson
Honestly, I have never understood the allure of an Alfa Romeo. Then again, small roadsters just don’t appeal to me in general, and if you ever want some cheap entertainment, ask me sometime about my feelings involving Fiat 124 Sport Spiders. I promise you’ll get an earful you’ll never forget. I also distinctly remember a trip that I took with my grandfather one day in Colorado Springs…in the southern end of the city is Motor City Drive, and while the city has gotten big enough that it’s no longer the case, it used to be that if you wanted a new car, you went there to find a car. My grandpa wanted to investigate Acuras but I was drawn to this little roadster, and I remember him telling me to forget it, it was junk and whoever bought it would pay four times over what the car was worth to keep it running. The car? An Alfa Romeo Spider. Just a couple of years later, Alfa pulled out of the U.S. market
Well, with Alfa Romeo returning, it was time to take a look back to see if there was one worth owning. Gulias, Guliettas, GTV6s, Spiders…none really did it for me. But this car, the Montreal…this speaks to me for some reason. The Bertone-designed body is handsome yet undoubtedly Alfa-like in design, their strong suite, it packs a V8 (admittedly, a 2.6L affair, but a V8 nonetheless), and has some of the most unique styling details you can find for a 1970s GT coupe, like the louvered headlight covers. This might be the one Alfa Romeo I would own. Ok…the Montreal and the 164 ProCar.