Alpine A110 GT | Test Drive
It’s like going back to school, to those heartwarming days when once your duties as a student were over you thought ‘bout nothing but relieving stress with what was most fun. The Alpine A110 combines the absolute possibilities of a sports car with supercar performance, making the relationship between driver and road intertwined thanks to its featherweight and precise feedback which is increasingly rare in today’s list. My destination? To the mountains, of course.
Words Andrea Albertazzi Photos Jay Tomei
It seems like the A110 arrived yesterday, but it’s a bit as if it had always existed. Few cars know how to convey this impression, this sort of timeless identity which beyond any shadow of a doubt owes a lot to its progenitor produced between the 60s and 70s. Dusting off a memory that has been on the shelf for decades is a treacherous task that remains in the balance between consensus and disappointment until the moment of the proper test arrives, the one on the road in our case. Alpine has amply demonstrated that it has done its homework well by creating a small sports car which, despite offering decent on-board comfort, does not have any flavor of compromise. The new A110 is a sharp knife that wants to be waved on a mountain road, on the track and if necessary even in that urban environment which rewards the choice of having it equipped with power steering, the main difference compared to those that until a few years ago were its competitors: Lotus and Alfa 4C.
Keeping its work with great commitment and taking on the burdensome role of the defunct RenaultSport, Alpine is expanding its proposal by further differentiating the options available once you go to the showroom to purchase a car whose first objective is to make the life of a human being more entertaining. In fact, the entry level 252 horsepower is followed by the high-performance S (300 horsepower and a chassis more devoted to performance). Today we have the GT, which maintains the extra power compared to a standard A110, but which combines it with the Alpine chassis, the one identified as most suitable for a less exasperated use of the turbocharged 1.8. As mentioned, the output power is therefore 300 horses and 340 Nm of torque, with a weight that remains unchanged at 1,194 kg and which best summarizes the concept of performance in the body of a small rogue who will be able to be compliant even when you don’t have warlike intentions regarding the asphalt under the wheels.
To characterize it externally we have smaller tires, with 205 at the front instead of 215 and 235 at the rear instead of 245, some GT badges inside and out to highlight how a sports car of this size and with this pedigree winks at the world of more traditional grand tourers, obviously with the necessary differences due to the type of car itself and the loading capacity which is still limited to the small rear compartment and the front one. The 18″ wheels then complete a look which, despite its traveler nature, leaves no room for misunderstandings: an Alpine is made to be unleashed around the curves. Despite summer tires I don’t hesitate a moment and challenge the uncertain weather conditions by directing the unmistakable nose with those big rounded eyes towards the mountains. If there is snow it will be fun.
Tightening that steering wheel is pure pleasure. The Alcantara melts into your hands and while your fingertips pinch the paddles fixed to the column, I don’t think I need to point out that I only leave the Comfort mode for city context. In Sport you gain decibels and pops on release, you shorten the turning radius while appreciating a chassis that, although more civilized than that of the S, knows how to move from one apex to another. Sink the throttle down gives you the opportunity to quickly round curves and straights, but when you have overcome the thin confidential border with the brogue and start holding it down until over 6,000 rpm, that’s where the A110 brings out the best of it. The 300 horsepower 1.8 is the perfect representation of how much power can be needed in a sports car, the fact of having it placed in mid rear position then offers a weight balance and a road behavior similar to that of a supercar. But it is the incredible sensation of analogue driving that amazes me the most, above all because it is still a car equipped with power steering and with the only possible transmission, a 7-speed automatic which suffers from a few too many interventions, at least as far as downshift concerns.
Now forget all of this and go for the most extreme driving mode – Track – traction control is excluded and you finally find yourself face to face with the true essence of the Alpine driving mood. There is no snow on the road, but the recent rainfall has left damp and a lot of dirt give way to treacherous curves that I know like a glove. In some cases it could be a shortcut to disaster, but with the A110 it equates to the funniest result in the world: the more you widen the rear, the bigger the smile on your face. And it is there that the central exhaust spits out its small – albeit artificial – explosions and while the excellent Michelin do their best and even a bit more of that, I navigate with that steering and its endless connectivity with my heartstrings. It is as precise as a scalpel and although it requires a few millimeters more action than, for example, a similar maneuver with a Cayman (or a Boxster), it allows me to position the front wheels exactly where I had in mind, launching myself towards the next bend after a inhuman speed for a road of this type and in today’s conditions.
Once this pace is reached it immediately becomes a frenetic race against common sense to try not to lighten too much and get back to that performance curve which for most other sports cars would almost equate to the maximum limit possible here and now. If the power delivery arrives rather high on the rpm scale – at 6,300 – the 340 Nm torque plumps up the rear axle already at 2,400 rpm, making the 4-cylinder flexible and always ready to blow air from the single turbo. You perceive how close you are to the ground with the seat at least how much you are positioned in the best point of a car which on more than one occasion reminded me of the pocket rockets of a few decades ago, an unfortunately increasingly less crowded category. With the necessary differences represented by the fact that the Alpine has an automatic gearbox and a much more refined chassis compared to those small coffins on wheels that our elders used to spank on weekend late nights, the A110 however manages to convey the same sense of freedom and involvement, a value inextricably linked to everything that has gravitated and will gravitate around the RenaultSport brand and obviously Alpine. This is also thanks to a weight reduced to just 1,194 kilograms, a value far from being anorexic, but contained enough to emphasize that sense of empathy that you can only establish when you truly feel one with the frame.
With the excuse of various stop in favor of the photographer, I dart in front of Jay Tomei’s camera, turning around at increasingly distant points, so as to take as much as possible from this day. In that moment when I find myself alone with it – with the A110 – I realize how today it is no longer correct to define it as a timeless car. Alpine is a timeless brand, because it puts fun first in an automotive landscape where true driving concepts are increasingly lost. In second place again fun and in third – take a guess – that’s right, fun. The pure, absolute, sincere one which, to be honest, doesn’t even involve selling some organs on the black market, given that the still high-performance 252 horsepower A110 costs just €63,800. I mean, what do you buy today with a sum like that? A boring sedan with wheels that look like scrap from the junkyard, a crossover like so many others? If you buy an Alpine you will have to play Tetris to stow away the little luggage you can carry with you, you will hate your smartphone when you break your wrists trying to get it from the shelf under the central tunnel and you will probably spend half your salary to pay for fines. But the moment you find yourself in this cockpit you will no longer want to get out, you will want to drive for the pure pleasure of doing it and you will do it quickly, S chassis or Alpine chassis.
The GT version of the A110 starts at €77,350, while the S needs €79,050, then we have some other special editions while stocks last just like the most extreme R Turini at €108,000. The latter, which we hope to be able to try soon, will be the diabolical embodiment of all of the above, but taken beyond the limit. It will be the best way to tear up your driving license and discover how everything great done by Alpine still had that little margin called madness. I already know I’m going to go crazy about it. The GT is the more reasoned choice, but no less satisfying. 7 years after its return, the A110 has amply demonstrated that it deserves a place in the hearts of enthusiasts and is undoubtedly one of the first cars that come to mind when talking about alpine adventures and certainly not because of the analogy between the names. It’s a rare pearl in a sea of boredom, it’s the one that makes you smile again as you grip a steering wheel. I haven’t yet found a person who claims otherwise and if I ever do, they’re probably crazy or stupid. These are the cars we want and need. Everyone get over it.
ALPINE A110 GT
Engine 4-cylinder Turbocharged, 1.798 cc Power 300 hp @ 6.300 rpm Torque 340 Nm @ 2.400 rpm
Traction Rear Wheel drive Trasmission 7-Speed Automatic Gearbox Weight 1.194 kg
0-100 kph 4,2 sec Top Speed 250 kph Price from€77.350