TRANS EUROPEAN EXPRESS
As September was approaching, one question was starting to rise to prominence. In normal years, the most straightforward way to get to the mythical Bernina Gran Turismo would be to book a flight to one of the airports nearby. But this being 2020, we soon took flying out of the equation, the risk of cancellations being too high to accept. That meant one thing. We needed to find the ideal drive that would take us there, in perfect comfort and with the potential to deliver us the driving pleasure that the Alpine roads are made for. Luckily, Alfa Romeo UK stepped in to the rescue and offered us a Stelvio Veloce to serve as our Trans European Express.
The Stelvio started its private jet duties on a beautiful autumn day, in a sunny London, with a sky nearly the same shade as the Misano Blue of the exterior. If we ever thought we might be missing that typical above the cloud experience, the Alfa was more than capable of delivering it, even when neatly parked in an underground garage. It is a big car, so it floats with ease over the bumps that we got so used to, here, in the UK. We knew we would be facing a long drive, but a Brexit preparation exercise made it even more… exciting. The motorways leading to the Eurotunnel were one massive traffic jam and we had to sneak in through the countryside, to the obvious dismay of the local residents, who saw their once quiet villages overwhelmed with traffic, pouring in from everywhere. There could hardly have been a better car to tackle this. It’s the sort of situation where you are very glad to have an automatic transmission, a high driving position and a bit of size - just enough to discourage anyone but the most committed road villains from cutting you out. Even on the short stretches where we could perform something remotely close to what you would call driving, the character of the Stelvio was starting to become clear. This is no lazy barge, nor does it resemble one of those over engined behemoths. I know it’s surprising, given the size and weight of the car, but it really feels and acts exactly like an Alfa should. Tony could have bought himself a few dozen ice creams if I had to give him a pound for every time I told him “man, this is really an Alfa”. Sounds like one, moves like one, has the same temperament and instantly connects me with the sensations I experienced in his 1750 GTV. OK, maybe the interior is devoid of petrol fumes, the brakes work a touch better and the satnav took the space of the ashtray on the dashboard. But hey, we will not be the ones complaining about these changes.
Over on French soil, the motorway devouring exercise had begun in earnest. The first impression, as it happens every single time I do this crossing, is that the wheels are not longer in touch with the tarmac. The road noise is all but gone. Yes, the roads in the UK are that noisy. Really. As if the Alfa invited me to play jet pilot, I entered into a relationship with the cruise control. I know many people don’t rate these features, as they feel that they detract from the traditional piloting experience, but I am a big fan of long distance driving and having a well designed driving aid on hand is something that always wins me over. Setting the speed is simple and straightforward and the radar helps you keep a safe distance from the car in front. Over hours upon hours of driving, every little thing that you are excused from doing adds up and makes a huge difference in the late hours of the trip, when tiredness tries to find any open door to sneak into you. As we were in a right hand drive car on the right side of the road, visibility when going into the fast lane was very limited, with a massive blind spot to put up with. Thankfully, the blind angle warning light never failed to alert us and kept us out of embarrassing moves. Most of the time, as we were driving late at night on nearly empty roads, the drive really resembled the jetliner procedures. I set the speed with the tactile cruise control button and let the engine manage the way to get there. It is especially delightful upon leaving the many toll stations on the French motorway system, with just one click necessary to take the car back to cruising speed. Classy. If you want to make things exciting, all you have to do is put your foot down, which we did, on a short stretch of road that we had to go through on a German speed limit devoid autobahn. Everything stays as controlled and predictable as it should be. It only sounds a bit more characterful, otherwise it’s business as usual on the control deck. All the speed, no drama.
Of course, us being Alfisti, we could not help but notice that the startline, in La Rosa, was tantalisingly close to the Italian border. Without any hesitation, we booked our accomodation in the very first village in Italy. A bold move. For all the character and the warmth of the people that make the fame of traditional villages up and down the country, one thing they were never known for is wide roads. Ours was no exception. Tight turns, abrupt changes in elevation, parking spots impossibly narrow. It seemed a bit of a risk to take a Stelvio there. After a few runs nipping in and out of our cosy den, Tony concluded that this must be where Alfa tests its turning circle. It just fitted. Just. But always fitted. Whilst last year, behind the wheel of the Giulia Quadrifoglio, that Alfa Romeo Switzerland so gallantly provided us with, we had to be alway on our toes watching for ground clearance threats, from the, well, sculptural nature of the road surface, the Stelvio was oblivious to such petty nuisances and gave us the confidence to focus just on preserving a safe distance from the mirrors and the surrounding stone walls.
Then, after some well deserved sleep, the time came to take the Stelvio to its media car duties, on the Bernina pass. There, the modern Alfa was surrounded by its legendary ancestors, the cars that lend it the DNA. The reverberating twin cam sound that filled the valley, the cat-like manners in which the racing cars tackle the turns, that clean styling that never seems to age, they all have survived and are well celebrated by the new car. The best way to describe it is as an Alfa that needs to be big to perform its duties, but that never tries to match the formula made successful by any other brand. Instead, it manages to channel everything that traditionally made the brand great in the first place. For that, we cannot help but commend the boldness of the engineering team. They stuck to their guns. The Stelvio seems to be very popular in Switzerland and we understand exactly why. I didn’t experience it in the snow myself, although my fellow editors had all the fun in the world sliding it about on a frozen Swiss lake last winter, courtesy of Alfa Romeo Switzerland, but I are sure to have picked up a few more explanations for its success.
A big car that is immensely playful, while being commendably adept at devouring mile after mile with spectacular ease. It’s not a racing car, at least not in the Veloce trim. It will not squash the inside of your skull while tackling a hairpin, it will not devoid your lungs of air upon acceleration quite in the same way a Quadrifoglio does. But rest assured, it will serve you a tasty dose of Alfa for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
