Read Steve Cropley's interview with Alfa CEO Harald Wester
Take the 75. The engine we already know. It directed its power via a gearbox mounted between the rear wheels – not great for boot space, but brilliant for weight distribution. Its rear disc brakes were located not behind the wheels but inboard either side of said gearbox because there they’d reduce unsprung mass.
Its front suspension was sprung by torsion bars, its rear axle of De Dion design – once again to cut unsprung weight but also to minimize camber changes under load. A limited-slip differential came as standard.
As for the Giulia, it offered in 1962 a twin-cam engine, a five-speed gearbox and a coil-sprung rear axle, whereas even Ferrari’s staple product at the time, the 250GT, had a single cam per bank, a four-speed gearbox (plus troublesome overdrive) and cart-type leaf springs at the back. The Alfa also had disc brakes at each corner – an unheard of refinement in a saloon of its size at the time.
The result is extraordinary, like your blue-rinse grandma suddenly leaping to her feet at your sister’s wedding reception and throwing shapes all around the dance floor. The Giulia might look fuddy-duddy but that’s not how it drives. The car here is a 1967 Giulia Super with a brace of Weber carbs strapped to the sides of its twin-cam motor. Together they offer a fabulous sound and surprising pace. However, the real class act is the chassis.
On tyres skinnier than those fitted to most motorcycles, the Giulia feels taut, accurate and responsive. Steering feel is of a kind that’s been extinct in family saloons for decades and when you lob it into a corner at the improbable speed it will carry, the car may heel over but it will hit your apex every time. There’s not quite the power to boot the tail out but in quicker turns you just set your approximate trajectory with the wheel and fine tune your line with your right foot from thereon in. There is a driver’s car of rare skill lurking within that mumsy shape.
The 75 plays the same game, but at a rather higher level. You may be wondering why there’s a Twin Spark in these pictures rather than the full fat 3.0-litre V6. The answer comes in two parts. Firstly, the Twin Spark is better balanced, and second, you may have no idea just how difficult it is to find an unmolested example of any 75 these days, regardless of engine. V6s are far quicker and sound better but you lose something in the handling. One is neither better nor worse than the other – just different.
The Twin Spark doesn’t actually feel that quick. It spreads its 148bhp over a wide rev range and while fuel injection has robbed it of the inimitable Alfa growl, it’s still a cultured, pleasant voice in the car. Unexpectedly, given how terrible earlier Alfa transaxle gearboxes were to use, the 75’s is a delight. Again, though, it is the handling that makes the 75 honour its marque and why, over 20 years since the last one was built, we still felt the need to hunt down a 75 and try it out.
On fat modern tyres it has grip aplenty but, just like the Giulia, it is the car’s balance that distinguishes it from the Alfa saloons that followed it. It turns in so sweetly and with such poise that you’re tempted to look behind to make sure it really is a four-door saloon.
It shares the Giulia’s aversion to understeer and prefers to adopt a neutral stance, while feeding information about grip levels and the road surface through the seat and steering. Like the Giulia, the 75 offers an immersive and delightful experience. It plucks you out of the director’s chair and throws you into the action.