At 80kph, it emits a little beep to warn you that you’ve exceeded the speed limit. And that’s annoying. In the two days I had it, I pushed every button on the dashboard twice to make this beep go away. But it didn’t.
In the same two days I developed the worst backache I’ve probably ever had. So much so that I refused an evening out on the town because I could neither sit, stand nor lie down owing to a driver’s seat that has the size to accommodate only the smallest of children. The rear seat isn’t much better either.
That’s not all because in the city, that engine seems like a collection of parts that were never meant to work together. The throttle has little or no interest in the sort of power you would either want or require immediately. Honestly, at 20kph, I buried the throttle in second and the engine took a good 10 seconds to convince itself that it was responsible for my propulsion.
The tyres on my test car were certainly not the kind you would want. For a 6 Lakh-plus car, it doesn’t have climate control, airbags, anti-lock brakes. All it has is that infernal beep.
You may also have heard that Fiat has terrible after-sales service. I have. A million people told me this when I decided to buy a Linea. But we bought it anyway, and the and the after-sales is fine. It’s just like any other car company — fine for the most part with the occasional problem.
I know I haven’t been waxing lyrical about this car but my rather embarrassing admission is that it quite simply my favourite Fiat. Imagine, if you will, that celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay has made a burger. He probably wouldn’t overcook the meat, undercook the French fries and make it Big-Mac-alike. These are all the things that we, as consumers, have grown accustomed to from a burger. So much so that we’ve grown to like that way. But Fiat’s gone down the Gordon Ramsay route. They’ve designed the Punto specifically for your driving pleasure.
And it may well have been designed in the last decade, but thanks to a certain Italian designer called Giorgetto Guigiaro is about as clean, simple and beautiful as a hatchback can be. There is virtually no detailing on the body apart from the shoulder crease. This is automotive styling at its finest. Modern cars are just so Korean nowadays with their fussy detailing and their over-the-top attempts to catch your attention and you can’t help but appreciate Fiat for sticking to the simple pebble-shaped two-box body.
Despite its diminutive dimensions, it feels big on the inside with plenty of leg, shoulder and headroom for the driver and front passenger. And although the dashboard hasn’t aged quite as well as the exterior, all the knobs and things fall easily to hand. The boot’s huge too.
But when you just want a good drive, you start to realise the point of this thing. The little 1.2l engine that felt woefully underpowered suddenly starts to sing. You start to rev it harder and harder and realise that it feels more like a beating heart than a petrol burning motor. And on a nice twisting road, I fell in love.
When you dive this thing at the limit, you forget all about the seats, the lack of features and everything else that annoyed you. It’s officially, motoring nirvana.
Those poor tyres let you enjoy all the handling that the brilliant chassis has to offer. And you red-line the engine in every gear until you get to grips with the fact that driving pleasure doesn’t always mean going fast. It’s about the way you feel.
This isn’t a fast car by a country mile. What it is, is a ton of Italian city car with all the histrionics.
And don’t bother with the diesel, or the bigger petrol engine. If you want to drive, get this tiny little 1.2. I would even go so far as to recommend it as a second car — just for that weekend pleasure drive in the countryside.