An Alfista In Paris

Event Report

"I was like a kid in a candy store getting a sugar high"

Alfas at the 2008 Salon Mondial de L’Automobile

By Stephan de Pénasse

a year ago, my wife Wendy and I started planning to go to Paris to celebrate her birthday this year. Tickets had been commissioned and sleeping arrangements were made. (I was lucky — one of my sisters and her husband had a ‘pad’ in Paris not far from the Eiffel Tower and they were gracious enough to lend it to us — wow!)

One week prior to our trip, I had sent a message to the folks at the Alfa Classique forum (I send them messages from my racing here in the USA) advising, "J’Arrive! (I’m arriving!)". None of the members who responded lived in Paris, but I did learn about the Paris Auto Salon, and began my ‘begging’ to the birthday girl: "I know it’s your birthday, but all I need is five minutes. Here are the directions, easy access from the metro," etc., etc.

During the five days we were there, we turned Paris upside down: Eiffel Tower, Arc du Triomphe, Champs Elysees, Versailles Palace, the Louvre, a boat ride in the Seine, Sacre Coeur, Place des Tertres, Place Vendome (where we bumped into former CSI actor Gary Dourdan), Quai Voltaire, Montmartre. We took trains, planes, the metro, automobiles, and boats, and we walked what felt like millions of miles. My sister had left us a long list of restaurants and brasseries, and, on the last day of our trip, at the intellectual hangout Brasserie Lipp in Saint Germain (the only place I would trust eating a steak tartare), Wendy said, "Why not skip visiting de Musee D’Orsay and go see your Alfas at the Salon?"

I looked around to see if she was addressing someone else, pinched myself, and then asked, "Are you sure? I mean, it’s your birthday week and we are here to see things you want to see! We still need to go to the Musee D’Orsay…"

As soon as she said, "No, it’s okay," I quickly called the garçon and asked for the bill ("Vite! Vite!"). I literally bolted thru the metro toward the Porte de Versailles station with Wendy in tow. We paid 12 Euros (each) and asked where the Alfa stand was. There were seven pavilions loaded with cars, karts, concept vehicles, etc. We learned that the Alfa stand was in Pavilion 1, Stand A130. That was all I cared!

Immediately, a new Alfa MiTo stared at me. (I could swear she even winked and said, "Come to me, my darling Alfista!") I was in a trance … I was like a kid in a candy store getting a sugar high … I was in full adrenaline mode as if coming out of a race session and winning. "Hey! Who gave you permission to sit in my car?", I said to myself as people were lining up to sit in her and check her out.

Finally it was my turn. I slipped into the driver’s seat as comfortably as putting on a silk pajama. The seats embrace you with nice padding but also provide firmness, as if telling me, "I’ll hold you, my dear, as you twist me through the street corners". I held the steering wheel and for once experienced a modern one that held your hands like a GT race wheel. The shifter was nice and short.

Suddenly, a salesman named Max stuck his head in and said (in French), "Six gears!"

Right away I replied, "Yeah, but does it redline or is it like an overdrive?"

"No — redline!"

Yes! I then continued to parlez avec Max. "This will give the Mini some real competition, for sure: faster, cheaper, seats five, and tons of trunk space." (The back seat folds and you can fit stuff like a small station wagon.) "Magnifique! Combien?"

"A partir de 15,000 Euro." At a conversion rate of 1.4 in the middle of our global financial crisis, that gave me about $21,000. Wow — not bad for all that it does!

Wendy was sitting on a bench in the middle of the stand, while I ran around like a kid in an amusement park, figuring out which ride I was going to try next. They had a Brera, a GT, a 159 Sportwagon, two 8C Competitiones (Coupe and Spider), a 159, a 147, and a Spider.

Tucked in the VIP area I saw a Tipo 33 Historique. I asked the security guard if I could go in and take a picture and he said, "For VIPs only." Adamant that I was not going to leave the Salon unless I got in there, I pulled some rank. I approached a senior manager there, said (truthfully) that I was a Director of the Alfa club in New England visiting Paris, flashed a picture of my Alfa on my palmtop, and voila! "Please come with me — it’s such a pleasure to have you visiting our stand." And there I took the picture.

After going through the stand at least five times and looking all the cars over and over again, Max came up to me and said, "Look at the stand design." All of the Alfas were red except for the 8C Spider in the middle (which was pearl white) and the silhouette in the background with a hint of the Alfa logo on the right side — artistic, classy, majestic, beautiful.

I stopped by the boutique to get a nice key ring and a miniature Alfa MiTo (I have all of the others from my previous trips to Europe, Latin America, and Asia, where they do have Alfas). I asked Max when he thought Alfa would come back to America. He shrugged his shoulders and said, with a sad face, "Je ne sais pas!" He asked me, "When was the last time Alfa was there?"

I said, "When Alfa had the 164 in the 90’s — that’s a long time not to have new Alfas, n’est pas?"

"Oui, oui, mon ami."

I left the stand with a smile of delight. Wendy asked, "So what you want to visit next here at the Salon?"

"Nothing else," I said. "We can go home now. Thank you for allowing me these few precious moments in Paris, to come see the new Alfas at the Salon."

Wendy rolled her eyes and said, "Okay, let’s go home!"

I took a million pictures of all the places we went in Paris. As I was on the plane coming home, I was still looking only at the ones I took from the Salon. "Shhh! Wendy is sleeping!"