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Peugeot 504 Cabriolet | Driving Classics
Words Christian Parodi / Photos Bruno Serra
Right now my hands are freezing, I smell like oil mixed with petrol and I can hardly see the road in front of me because of the dim light coming out of the headlights. But I’m damn happy, I have a smile running from one side of my face to the other and in the solitude of this out-of-town drive, I’m coming home with the knowledge that I have experienced more driving emotions in this one day than through weeks at the wheel of impeccable contemporary cars. The charm is just that, the unpredictability of what is gonna happen the next kilometer, but also the awareness that the man/machine game will always be visceral and that exactly as in the most classic human relationships it must be managed with respect and dedication. That’s why when the fuel reserve warning light stops flashing intermittently and starts being steady, I start talking to the Peugeot 504 Cabriolet I’ve been now driving for days, begging not to let me down, not to betray me, because so far it has been one of the best experiences of my life.
Now you will probably be curious to know how things came to an end, but I want to start with how they started, telling you what it means for me to drive a vintage car in today’s world. Let’s start with the presentations, approaching a model that you don’t expect, a classic car in the most traditional sense of the term and therefore with chrome profiles and those typical square lines that put an end to the whimsical and refined design of the 60s, introducing that more functional and future-oriented which made the sedans of the 70s above all imposing on the road but at the same time perfectly suited to a coexistence that saw cars increasingly at the center of people’s lives. The 504 is not just any model, so much so that even Enzo Ferrari owned one (indeed a pair), after all we are talking about a design embellished by the gifted pencil of Pininfarina, here in the cabriolet version and with a generous 2-liter 4-cylinder 102-horsepower engine under the hood, at least when it first came out of the gates in Sochaux.
The state of conservation of this model entrusted to us by Peugeot Italia is good, with the logical passing of time you see on some plastics and leathers bits in the passenger compartment, but keep in mind that this lady is 50 years old, which is why you will not pass unnoticed and indeed you will be promptly greeted by admiring glances, especially by those who experienced it at the moment of its birth, half a century ago. Available as a four-door sedan, coupe, wagon or convertible, the 504 represents my connection with an incredibly distant world, a life that does not intend to speak digitally, that has no idea what it means to “be online” and that at the end of the day was more real, sincere and probably also based on more proper values than today. But if time is an inexorable tyrant, the decades that have passed have certainly not aged this pretty convertible that does not hide its desire to manually fold the canvas roof and offer en plein air driving experiences to both driver and occupants, where the rear ones will have to sacrifice a bit in terms of space for legs and feet, while in the luggage compartment there is enough room not to give up anything, especially some tools that will grant to have dinner at home.
Without bringing in economic aspects and therefore deliberately omitting tax breaks offered by the use of a historic car and above all without going into prices-related details – often exasperated – and the almost certain future revaluation and saleability of your favorite vintage car, I pack what is needed for a day out dedicated to the purest driving, no matters where I’m headed and with the sole intention of savoring that pleasure of holding a steering wheel in my hands and letting every turn take me where my heart suggest. The 50 years of difference compared to the cars I usually drive are felt more in the driving approach, than in the real differences with a modern car, after all this 504 has everything that a premium car needed back in the early 70s, everything except for the air conditioning, but I certainly won’t suffer any heat, mainly because at the first light of the morning, when my journey kicks off, a warm sun seems making its way through the clouds.
The Peugeot starts right away and without the slightest hint of uncertainty, the 2-liter runs smoothly and settles almost immediately in a correct revs range. At that point, with the roof still strictly closed over my head, I shift into first gear and move the 504 Cabriolet out of the backyard, appreciating the precision of the clutch pedal and a steering that, despite not being power-assisted, becomes soft and direct as soon as the wheels are moving. The 4-cylinder is silent and together with a set-up mainly directed towards a more touristic rather than sporty driving approach, I soon find myself kilometers away from home, immersed in a landscape that is slowly transforming the green meadows all around into yellow expanses, now ready to make way for the autumn season.
Despite some torque available in the low part of the revs-counter, the 4-speed gearbox will be the way to keep the 504 always ready to tackle uphill stretches, or to decrease the stress on the engine, when it can be let run more freely. Rear-wheel drive then allows you to “play” by controlling hints of oversteer that become more and more insistent with a slippery road surface, without however becoming excessively dangerous or annoying. People with more than a pair of white hairs on their heads smile, children point me surprised to see something so different from what they are used to and it is therefore easy to find yourself clinging to the wheel with a huge and sincere smile, even when you simply walk the road that every morning leads you from home to work. My day trip consists of about 190 km of hilly roads between Liguria and Piedmont, enjoying the tranquility of a morning free from commitments or thoughts and enjoying the simpler things like holding a steering wheel and changing gear, appreciating those movements now more and more away from our everyday automotive life.
A vintage car – albeit all in all recent in design and conception – is a riot of smells and sounds, it allows you to notice if something isn’t going the right way, even before the warning lights are there warning you. And the beauty is that with a simple toolbox, a few cans of oil, a funnel and no fear of getting your hands dirty, you can fix a good 80% of the hitches and start again, happy for having been useful to the car, when by now we are simply transported by them and not even ready to open the hood when something goes wrong in the sea of electronics that cars are fitted with today. The set-up will not be as precise as that of a Lotus and when the road becomes bumpy, it almost seems to jump everywhere, the horn remains stuck leaving me between embarrassed and amused for a few moments and I always forget what those few buttons mean, often without even the slightest indication about their function, but the reality is that I have never enjoyed myself so much, precisely because I have rarely felt so protagonist behind a steering.
For once it’s not about performance, but emotions. You don’t need mind-boggling figures, but stories that you can relive and tell. A vintage car is the uncertainty of what is about to happen the next kilometer, the pleasure of approaching it on the roadside and appreciating the contrast with the rest of the world, letting everyone – even those who do not have the slightest interest in cars – be captured by an object that comes from another era and that is able to drag you back in time simply by turning the key and driving you on an exciting road that smells of petrol. Sitting comfortably on its leather seats and with the seat belts simply placed around my waist, I take advantage of a few moments of sunshine to open the roof and enjoy a few kilometers with my arm out the window, looking at the houses of the small towns that I pass through and scrutinizing the people’s looks. I think to those who, for fear of sudden problems, stay away from these old ladies on wheels and I already begin to review my favorite models, excluding those too expensive, because with the passing of today’s hours I am more and more convinced that a ‘historic car must soon be part of my life, I want it to be an object that can be exploited to relive moments like this and not a precious jewel that must be kept in the garage.
After all, a car is first of all a means of transport and it is up to us if what stands between one place to another is lived with emphasis on every single aspect that makes the moment in which we give life to the engine so special. Driving a classic car is like falling in love and, as in any romantic relationship, there comes a time when things don’t go as planned. Darkness breaks through in the middle of the afternoon and a light rain starts becoming more and more intense. Some water gets in through the windows, but the biggest problem is the cold that is literally freezing my hands and the dim light coming out of the headlights. This is one of those moments in which you would hate everything, but behind the wheel of the 504 it becomes a little adventure, an unexpected turn of events that wants to test me and make me understand that maybe there is also the possibility that I should not give up and call for help.
With an increasingly insistent rain and darkness all around, I retrace the same path that characterized the first part of my day, realizing how much we have become lazy and accustomed to the many comforts of modern cars. In that moment I understand that my comeback journey, no matters how cold and dark it may be, must not be something bad, but the icing on the cake of a day made even more unforgettable. Now the fuel gauge warning that flashed during the last 30/40 km is steady and threatens to leave me in the middle of nowhere. Not much is missing, but there are no fuel station nearby. Please don’t do this to me.
Not today, the indicator starts to fade and then vanishes completely. I don’t even have time to ask myself why, that I take an impromptu last turn – yes, you don’t have satellite navigator, time to read road signs – and I find myself in a familiar area, a few kilometers from home. When I see the gate and open it remotely, the light is there again, but I put the 504 in the garage, leaving out the torrential rain, the cold and a world that I have seen different from usual, more alive , less indifferent. And I can’t wait to get back driving it, appreciating those little things that in the comfort of a cockpit managed by wireless systems keep us further and further away from what really matters, that is the simple pleasure of feeling at one with the car and the road below us. If you are still wondering, the ideal tool to awaken from this numbness is not simply the right car, but the one that leaves us the task of making each driving day different from the previous one.
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