Maserati Bora

Maserati Bora 1970s Italian classic supercar

The Bora was Maserati’s response to the Lamborghini Miura. It matched the latter’s mid-engined layout. Ferrari’s Berlinetta Boxer also joined the mid-engined party. But, it arrived late. The Bora beat the Boxer to it by a couple of years. The Bora was launched in ’71 – and the Boxer in ’73. The name of the game for the mid-engined cars was handling. In Maserati’s case, the Bora was an improvement on the Ghibli’s front-mounted motor. Now they had a car which could ‘handle’ however much horsepower was thrown at it. And the Bora produced plenty of it. Its 4.7-litre Maserati V8 was a motor of a certain age, by that point. Indeed, it now had twelve years on the clock. But – with 310bhp on tap – drivers were not much fussed about its timeline. The Bora was good for 175mph. That left many a motor half its age trailing in its wake!

The Bora was styled by Giorgetto Giugiaro. Previously employed by Ghia, he was now in his own studio. It went by the name of Italdesign. The full creative force of the firm was brought to bear on the Bora. Elegantly space-age, the car radiated Seventies chic. In other words – finesse and excess, in equal measure.

In engineering terms, too, the Bora exuded class. Even with its V8 heart beating for all it was worth, cockpit noise levels were almost eerily low. That had a lot to do with Citroën – who now controlled Maserati. They brought a host of hydraulic parts to the Bora table. Its brakes, pedals, seats and steering-column were precision-fitted by the French firm. The Bora was Maserati’s flagship model – so, equipment levels were high. In the whole of its nine-year run, the sole modification Maserati made was a slight engine enlargement, in ’76. Throughout that time – in true Italian style – the Bora delivered a bravura blend of power and panache!

Lancia Fulvia

The Lancia Fulvia is an automotive legend. An ‘homologation special’, only 1,180 Fulvias were built – just enough to qualify the car to compete in international rallying. As such, it went on to win two world championships. In standard form, the Fulvia was impressive. But the 1.6 HF model took it to another level. Revered as a roadster, it sported many of the features of a competition car.

The HF was powered by a narrow-angle V4 engine. It produced 115bhp – though a few factory-tuned units upped that number to 132. Even the less potent motors provided a top speed of 115mph. Fuel was supplied by twin Weber 42 carburettors. Power peaked at 6,200rpm. Transmission was by way of a 5-speed gearbox. Technically, a 4-speed ‘box was used – and then a ‘piggy-back’ set of cogs was added. With all that hooked up to the front wheels, the HF handled well. Braking was via Dunlop discs. However, Lancia decided a servo was surplus to requirements.

The Fulvia’s bodywork was designed to cleave cleanly through air – be it in a baking-hot desert or freezing forest! A clear pointer to the car’s rally-bred roots could be found in its large 7″ headlamps. As far as wheels went, neatly flared arches topped off a set of suitably wide tyres. The rubber was fitted to deep-rimmed Campagnolo alloys. A touch of negative camber at the front – and a slightly raised rear – were hallmarks of a car for which road-holding was sacrosant. The HF’s interior décor – or lack of it – indicated that weight loss was at a premium. At the front, high-backed bucket seats prioritised rigidity over comfort. Behind them was a padded bench … something to sit on, and not much more! Standard Fulvias – and the ‘luxury’ 1600HF – gave slightly more by way of mollycoddling. Nevertheless, it is the unadorned HF which is the most sought-after Fulvia of all. Seriously iconic, it is arguably the most illustrious Lancia of them all!

Lamborghini Countach

The Lamborghini Countach was styled by Bertone – Italian masters of automotive design. In its first incarnation, the Countach flew to a top speed of 186mph. That was exceptionally quick in the Seventies. Its engine – a classic Lamborghini V12 – produced 375bhp. Again – in the 1970s – that was a gargantuan stat. The models that followed output still more power.

Handling-wise, too, the Countach was well up to snuff. Mid-engined as it was, its gearbox was at the front – nestled snugly beneath the banana seats. Weight distribution was optimised. As a consequence, the Countach’s cornering capabilities soared. A 5-speed set-up only added to the fun!

Countach is a Piedmontese exclamation/expletive. In its mildest form, it means ‘wow’ – though it can have fruitier connotations! Certainly, the first definition was more than apt. Later versions of the Countach, though, somewhat over-egged the stylistic pudding. Pointless spoilers – and over-sized wheel-arches and ducts – bordered on the kitsch. To be fair, by the time such models hit the showrooms, the firm’s founders were no longer at the helm. Financially, it found itself in choppy waters. Latter-day faux pas notwithstanding, it was largely down to the Countach that Lamborghini stayed afloat. When it made its début – in ’74 – the Countach stunned show-goers. Lamborghini’s rivals were left reeling. In a way – over the course of its run – the Countach summed up the Seventies. Insomuch as it was a decade which could veer wildly between masterpiece and parody!

Maserati Khamsin

The Maserati Khamsin was the latest in a line of things automotive to reference the weather. Le Mans has a straight named after the Mistral – a cold wind, blowing through southern France. In similar vein, Ford’s Zephyr namechecked the classical breeze, which has meandered through many a piece of poetry over the years. Another car, too, played upon the ethereal theme. The Khamsin was a scorching gust of air, which seared through Egypt each summer. Maserati brought in Marcello Gandini – of design house Bertone – to draft the Khamsin’s super-sharp shape. Its fluid bodywork lines were fabricated from steel. Spanning the back was a glass panel – inside which, tail-lights sat in suspended animation.

The Khamsin was a technological tour de force. Its four-cam V8 engine abutted the bulkhead. Front-engined though it was – with a full tank of gas, weight distribution was 50/50. The motor was an all-alloy marvel. Its 320bhp gave a top speed of 153mph. Torque output was 354lb/ft – at 4,000rpm. The V8’s powerband surged from 800-5,500rpm.

When the Khamsin entered production – in ’74 – Citroën were still a part of Maserati. A year later – and they were gone. The Khamsin, though, felt the full hydraulic force of the French giant. The steering, brakes and clutch – plus, pop-up headlights and driver’s seat adjustment – were all Citroën-controlled. Rear suspension was double-wishbone. Only the Khamsin’s dashboard let the design side down a tad. Its haphazard array of dials and switches clashed with the simple elegance of the exterior. Unveiled at the ’72 Paris Show, the new Maserati was as stylish as you like. Yet, it was also practical. The huge torque reserves of its V8 powerplant further boosted its already abundant carrying capabilities. And, on top of all of that – as its name suggested – the Maserati Khamsin went like the wind!

Fiat 130 Coupé

 

When Pininfarina consider a design one of the best they ever did, you know it was a bit special! That was the case with the Fiat 130 Coupé. The simplicity of its styling was its strength. The 130 said it all in just a few clean lines. They gave it gravitas – as befitted a first-rate luxury car. Sadly, though – in terms of sales – Fiat simply did not have the cachet of, say, a BMW or Mercedes.

The 130 Coupé’s imposing exterior was matched by the opulence within. Velour seats were drawing-room dapper. Veneer door cappings blended with electric windows. There were dual-tone town and country horns. Plus, acres of space for four well-heeled occupants. Comfort was the Coupé’s stock-in-trade. Power steering pampered the driver. And for the passengers, independent suspension provided a smooth and stress-free ride.

Performance-wise, the 130 was no slouch. Top speed was 118mph. A 3.2-litre V6 gave 165bhp. Torque was plentiful. The gearbox was a Borg-Warner 3-speed auto – with a 5-speed manual available. Mechanically, the 130 was solid, sound and dependable. But, it was aesthetically that the 130 shone. Classic Italian styling cues were written all over it. Commercially, though, the car was hard done by. Had it been built by a luxury car brand per se, the Fiat 130 Coupé would surely have received more of the plaudits it so richly deserved.

 

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