My life and FIATs - Part one

Tony Andrews

My first car was a FIAT 500D which I bought new, from Miles Motors in Morphett Street in Adelaide in 1970 (unless you count the Austin Seven with a boat-tailed body which my brother and I bought for ten pounds and later sold for five, having never driven it (legally) on the road. If only I had a big shed somewhere containing that Austin, the Rover P3, the exquisite short-wheelbase Land Rover, the Jaguar 3.8 Mark II - the list goes on of cars from my past, as l'm sure yours does too ).

The FIAT cost about 650 pounds and when I took delivery there was an orchid in a box on the passenger seat, a somewhat unusual gift to give an 18-year-old boy. A Holden cost about 1100 pounds at that time, and a Simca Aronde, which I had considered along with the FIAT, was about 800 pounds (I think). The Simca had lie-back seats as standard. When I recall the drawbacks of Bambino ownership for an 18-year-old male I sometimes wonder how differently my life might have turned out with lie-back seats.

First day of ownership - thinking of lie-back seats

Some of the cars available in Australia in 1960 were the Borgward Isabella, the Chrysler Royal, the Dodge Phoenix, the Fiats 600, 1100 and 1800, the Goggomobil T 300, the Lloyd Alexander TS, the NSU Prinz, the Panhard Dyna (flat twin air-cooled, 851 cc), the Renault 750, the Skoda Octavia, the Triumph Herald (my father's car, and superb to drive in 1960) and the Studebaker Lark and Silver Hawk.

Along with Pontiacs and Ramblers and all the more mundane family cars, plus MGs, Austin Healeys, Lotus, Triumph, Jaguar, Sunbeam and Aston Martin for sports cars, it was a time of incredible diversity of size, style and performance. And just look at the choice of small cars, and I mean really small, with the Mini and the Zeta just around the corner.

The head mechanic at Miles Motors was called (I am pretty sure) Ron Fuss. He was a small man, just the right size for a 500, and he raced at the old Port Wakefield circuit (not 500s though). My first prang was when I was caught in the middle of a chain collision in the wet on the way back from watching the races at Port Wakefield. How heart-breaking that was. Ron always wanted to fit a motor-bike engine into a 500, and when I visited Miles Motors for servicing he would often speculate on how hc could fit a Norton or a JAP into my car. What is it about these cars that gives people these crazy notions?

I went everywhere in that car. Trips to Melbourne meant putting my right foot to the floor (literally) once I left the speed limit and leaving it there till the next town. The little engine puffed up the hills and tore down the other side. Semi-trailers were no problem as they were as underpowered as I was. I couldn't pass them and they couldn't pass me.

It was the perfect car for a student, and I've come to believe that it was the perfect car for a beginner as well. Its handling was fantastic and the lack of power and the non-synchro gear-box meant that the car had to be driven all the time, particularly in the hills. The only time that I spun the car was when I fitted cheap retreads that were effectively slicks with grooves cut in them (1 was a student remember). The first rainy day I was going round a suburban corner flat out as usual and did a perfect 360. The people at the bus stop were quite amazed. After the second and third times that it happened I decided that the tyres weren't really suitable for city driving, even back in the days when Brighton road was a quiet road that led nowhere in

On holidays at Port Elliot - and that house is still there

Luckily for me the Lightburn Zeta project went bust about this time and they had a great stockpile of Michelin X tyres that fitted only Zetas and, as it happened, 500s. I should have bought the lot but I merely bought four, for a song (1 was a student remember).

Life was simpler back then. You were allowed to take Eskies of beer and sit on the mound at the cricket. And then drive home. No breathalysers, no traffic, no brains. So one day after a hot day's watching the cricket and many a stubby I offered to take my mates and their Eskies home, in the Bambino. There were so many of them that everyone except the couple crouched on the back seat with the Eskies had to stand, including me. I drove down West Terrace, the springs totally compressed, and with so many torsos and heads sticking out of the sun-roof that we looked like a giant bunch of broccoli.

The other thing that amused our tiny minds was to stand during the national anthem at the drive-in. The cars behind would flash their lights and blow their horns at us. Oh what fun. Sometimes, remarkably, I even used the sun-roof to let in the sun.

Life was simpler back then and so, I think, was I.

(To be continued - if you can stand it)