Four friends with a shared passion for their definitive Alfa Romeo 75’s. Diehards of the brand, colloquially referred to as Alfisti
We find ourselves deep in Greek lands, where the mythical beasts called the Centaurs once roamed
On a mystagogic journey to invoke the carbureted spirits of an era long gone and forgotten
Driving on roads carved deep into slate, defined by legendary retaining rock wall. Resounding echoes from a Tour de Corse.
The meet was talked about and planned ad nauseam. The fated day finally arrived.
Their tight formation cutting through deep fog that descended upon the valley of Thessaly.
A few miles out, Thannasis and his “Muse” eagerly awaiting by the port of Volos. The other Vangelis and his “Bianca” unfortunately having to bow out last moment.
As if Monica Bellucci strolls down the Piazza Navona to grab a cappuccino with equally attractive long-legged company. A sight for sore eyes these three. Not that you needed further proof of Italian design mastering the boxiness that is characteristic of the period. Mama mia, che culo!
In the frame above, the elegant parade of the 1.8 Turbo America flanking two 2.0 TS’s at center and right
No time for endless basking under a brilliant Greek sun
A snake-like mountain route carefully mapped out beckons.
Keys turn ignitions and the Twin Spark signature rattle joins the Turbo’s deep hum and bass. Transaxle rear-wheel drive Milanese stallions ascending, in search of their element.
By the outskirts of Portaria village, the road narrows and taunts. But you don’t stomp an old girl through the hairpins. At first, any classic Alfa calls for a leisurely pace and gentleness, like a skilled dancer needs her warmup.
Double-clutching your downshifts into 2nd gear and engine-braking to prevent fade. In the straights gracefully stretching 3rd, momentarily upshifting into 4th to relax the revs. The smoother the input the higher the speed. A gold standard and deliberate balance an Alfa 75 invites the user to consider
Rhythm and melody, our convoy blends with the surrounding scenery
Never disruptive but part of this morning’s nirvana. The occasional pop or bang from the exhaust simply adds to the whole energy of the place.
A few miles outside Tsangarada the tarmac turns coarser. Traction improves and the Rossa surely finds her footing.
The convoy’s leader, Giorgos, marvels at two beauties filling up his rearview, as they start to push, nimbly traversing each apex.
As if he needed more excuse. Alea iacta est. One downshift and a heavy right foot is all it takes.
Vangelis from behind witnesses a puff of black smoke from the Rossa’s exhaust. The rears dig in, revs climb up to 5,500, slot in 3rd and 4th. This is what we’re here for!
The devil is always in the details. Fallen leaves swirling around behind the undercarriage, picked up violently by the archetypal Ronal A1 15” wheels. The Momo Zagato steering wheel (standard equipment on the SZ/RZ and shared with the NSX Type-S) feels hefty in hand, with a solid turn-in feel despite the 75’s softer suspension setup. Just a single degree of negative camber in the front axle makes all the difference
No matter how many years shall pass these are savory rituals of long-term 75 ownership
The Alfa Romeo racing pedigree is engraved in the 75’s DNA. Twisty roads her bread and butter.
A timeless piece, three decades past her roll out of Arese, she’s still got the moves. Not many 35-year old’s do.
And so it doesn’t take much to understand why one bonds with a vehicle like this and to such degree. For life.
Somewhere by Afissos, we let the girls cool off in search of some sustenance.
For the body, traditional Greek yogurt with nuts and honey. It is a soothing flavor like none other. For the soul, flexed chassis ticking away rhythmically in pursuit of homeostasis. Silence gradually melds into reflection. A strong memory stirs, led by the 75’s characteristic scent of calcined exhaust mixed into that of a well-weathered cabin. Recognized by discerning 75 owners alone
But it is this nature that surround us, all still and overwhelming. Deep Greek blue and pine green. Centaurs live here indeed
Milies – Vyzitsa – Pinakates. As night’s blanket slowly draws, the Rossa, the Nera, and the Turbo move our content friends all the way back into the city of Volos.
The return trip can be a solemn one as experiences “download and store” onto hard drive.
No doubt, batteries recharged to the maximum, time has come for our friends and the 75’s to part ways.
They do so with a promise. To meet again for another pilgrimage to the south of Greece. To carve the magic mountains of the Peloponnese.
Somewhere, not very far, Bianca perks up. What’s better than a triumvirate of 75’s you ask? Only a quartet, of course!
Text: G. Dimopoulos / Photos: V27 Photography / 4Drivers.gr
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