Yesterday I dropped our Volkswagen Golf family hack off at a local valeter because the children have finally left home and it was time to get the caked-on detritus they left behind off the upholstery.
Actually to call him a local valeter while technically accurate is to vastly undersell his business. He is an obsessive, ridiculously knowledgeable about everything who can make the scruffiest of neglected motors look ten years younger in a day, so the Golf really didn’t present him any kind of challenge at all. Looking around his workshop he had everything from a manual Aston Martin DBS to a Bentley Continental R ready to have his magic breathed upon them. I left the Golf outside. So if you live anywhere west and have a car in need of anything from a light sprucing to completely going over, can I recommend Ti22 in Chepstow? Yes I know the owner and, no, he’s not paying me to write this.
Another reason I go there he always lends me something interesting in which to get home. This time it was 2002 Porsche 911 in the perfect spec: a rear-drive, manual coupe in lovely Lapis Blue paint. Now I’ve not driven a 996-era 911 in many years but you’ll know they are perceived to be the least desirable of all 911 generations, a fact undoubtedly reflected in their prices.
And I didn’t think much about this one until I got it out of Chepstow and onto the open roads. Where it was unexpectedly lovely. You assess a car that is now an affordable classic in a completely different way to that in which you’d have judged it when it was expensive and new because the terms of reference are so different. You don’t worry about the odd creak from the trim of a 19 year old car that’s done 111,000 miles, nor are you fussed that it doesn’t quite cling to the road like a brand new 992 because you don’t drive these things the same way. At least I don’t, and certainly not when they belong to someone else.
What matters is does it feel right? Is it still special? Does it, for whatever reason, keep you engaged and enthused as a driver? And the answer is yes, yes, thrice yes.
In many ways it actually feels more like a 911 now than when it was new. It first came out in 1998 and I can remember headlining the story I wrote for MotorSport magazine ‘Nein 11’ – pretty cheesy I admit, but I wanted to get across the fact that while this was a very capable and competent car, it just didn’t feel much like a 911 to me.
But with over 20 years of water-cooled 911s having flowed under the bridge since, it most certainly does now. For a start, its performance remains utterly convincing. We forget that this series of 911 was not only lighter than all the ones since, it was also lighter than the air-cooled cars it replaced. And the 319PS (234kW) of the later 3.6-litre cars of which this is one, goes a long way in a car weighing only a little more than 1,300kg.
It has a lovely gearbox too, once the oil is warm at least, but most importantly it has perfectly matched control weights, something Porsche always seems to do better than anyone else. It’s important because when you drive, it feels like the pedals, gearshift and steering were all designed by the same team, and that they were thinking of you at the time.
And it is that sense of engineering integrity, as much as the unique sound of its flat-six engine and its location in the boot that today makes this car feel like a proper 911. That and its sublime steering. The fact that such a car could be yours for the same a mid-spec Ford Fiesta is something I find absolutely staggering.
There is, of course, a catch. The 996 series has a poor reliability reputation, mainly because of issues relating to its engine that can see its intermediate shaft (IMS) bearing fail, which can be catastrophic. Rear main oil seal failures on early engines are common too. The good news is that there are good retrofit solutions to both problems so make sure you buy one that’s been done. Otherwise the cars are pretty robust and can provide many years of first rate 911 motoring for a bargain basement price.
Thank Frankel it's Friday
Porsche
911
Andrew Frankel
Historic
Andrew Frankel