Alfa Romeo Giulia Veloce
After the heady 48 hours that was this year’s Dine & Disco for Children In Need, my voice was in no condition to be on the radio come Monday morning. Nothing worse than a croaky-throat DJ narcissistically trying to ‘soldier on’ while annoying everyone listening in the process.
The Dine & Disco, however, was a resounding triumph, thanks primarily to Take That but also to none other than Kylie Minogue, who put in a surprise appearance. I could barely believe it as the little lady skipped on to the stage and belted out half a dozen hits. Wow, well done all, and what a trouper. How the heck we out-pomp that in 2019 is already melting my brain.
The Alfa Romeo Giulia Veloce. From the front there’s a formidable holy trinity of air intakes, bookended by what have become Alfa’s signature Siamese cat’s eyes headlamp clusters
Talking of pomp, as I sat in my garden on Tuesday morning, trying not to speak, I witnessed a steady flow of Royal Ascot officialdom trundle and clip-clop past our garden gate. Very entertaining it was too, seeing the juxtaposition of horse-drawn carriages flanked by Royal Household protection officers. In among which, somewhere in the mix was my (not quite Royal but Miasma Blue) Alfa Romeo Giulia Veloce, this week’s test car.
Everyone who laid eyes upon the Veloce went immediately gooey for two reasons. First, it’s an Alfa Romeo, plain and simple. Second, like most things Italian – the Sistine Chapel, Sophia Loren, Margherita pizza – it’s really quite gorgeous. Actually, it’s a bit like the recently proclaimed Duchess of Sussex, in as much as it’s impossible to catch at a bad angle. From the front there’s a formidable holy trinity of air intakes, bookended by what have become Alfa’s signature Siamese cat’s eyes headlamp clusters, while round the back are two giant exhaust funnels set deep into a mean and moody rear diffuser. But from the side, oh my, now that’s what you call real form. A total triumph of classic lines and contemporary flow.
Inside. I’m tempted to award a star just for the fact that finally we have a car that provides the driver and passenger with a padded cushion against which to lean their resting knee. I cannot tell you how happy this made me. As far as everything else in the cockpit is concerned, it’s the usual Italian blend of brilliant and brutally basic.
The flat-bottomed sports steering wheel is a thing of beauty, the upper spokes having been hollowed out in such a fashion that one’s thumbs meld into the leather and become part of the design, while one’s fingers tingle at the tantalising prospect of the extravagantly huge and rather magnificent aluminium gear shift paddles.
The main driver dials are sexy and sporty enough, but as for the rest of the Giulia’s upfront display, tech and trim, it looks like Alfa ran out of interest and/or budget. Even the leather upholstery looks a bit top company fleet car at first glance. (It’s actually not at all when you look more closely, but it amazes me that Alfa didn’t add a few flashes of colour, some snazzy stitching or perhaps a set of colour-coded seatbelts, which would transform the whole cabin.)
The 2.0-litre turbo engine whips up a highly respectable 280hp but it feels miles quicker to 60mph than the official time of 5.7 seconds
Space-wise, it’s no limo but nor is it cramped, the tightest spot being, as usual, the second-class middle seat perched up high in the rear. Boot space should be OK for anything up to a week’s luggage for the average family but when it comes to storage bins, the Giulia scores a flat zero. The door bins are short and narrow, the armrest storage area is minuscule and as for the glove box, you couldn’t actually fit a pair of gloves in there without removing the handbook.
But hey, Alfa owners don’t care about such practical nonsense, all they want to know is, what’s this stunner like to drive?
In a word, fabulous, and so much more engaging to drive than any of its rivals. The steering is lightning-fast, pin-sharp with oodles of feedback. The 2.0-litre turbo engine whips up a highly respectable 280hp but it feels miles quicker to 60mph than the official time of 5.7 seconds. Or at least it does in the explosive Dynamic mode. By comparison, the Eco and Neutral modes seem almost hearse-like. Which I know is ‘the deal’, but reverting back to guiding a cross-Channel ferry when seconds before you’ve been zooming about in a Riva Aquarama takes a lot of getting used to.
The brakes are firm but with enough feel to avoiding causing an epidemic of motion sickness, and the front wheels are so wide apart it’s hard to resist the constant temptation to see how far they’ll let you go before waving the white flag of oversteer.
The appeal of all Alfas is that in one way or another they always stand out, be it for the right reasons or sometimes god-awful ones. This Giulia Veloce, I’m happy to say, lands very much in the former camp. It’s a bit rougher than all those posh German cars on the inside, as it is when it comes to ride quality. That said, it’s way lighter (with loads of aluminium engine bits, panels and a carbon-fibre prop shaft as standard), more fun to drive and much better value.
But this vehicle’s most appealing and authentically Italian unique trait is the fact that it’s absolutely bloomin’ gorgeous. Bellissimo and then some.
Of course, for £20k more you can opt for its big brother, the terrific 505hp Giulia Quadrifoglio, the best sports saloon of the past decade.
And there is a third way, if you can hang on a while. How about a 350hp version of this Giulia, inspired by the aforementioned 2.9-litre Ferrari engined four-leaf clover (that’s what Quadrifoglio stands for)? The likes of which, we are told, is no more than a year away. Although bear in mind, if you’ve ever ordered an Italian kitchen, you’ll be more than aware that the only realm in which Italians are even more creative than the design department is when it comes to inventing deadlines.