16 July 2024
I have long been fascinated by large Italian saloons of the 1960s, the sort of cars mainly encountered in the World Car Year Book, The Observer Book of Automobiles, and films starring Alberto Sordi. Nicholas Heywood-Waddington’s 2600 Berlina is not only a highly distinguished vehicle but was also assembled in South Africa. Eight years ago, I had the honour of driving it for Classic Cars magazine.
Alfa Romeo launched the Tipo 106 2600 as the heir to the 1957 Tipo 102 2000. Compared with its predecessor, the new model had modified bodywork and quad headlamps. The engine was a central selling point; the 2600 was powered by Alfa Romeo’s last inline six-cylinder plant with twin overhead camshafts and twin dual-choke Solex 32 PAIA carburettors. The specification also included front disc brakes and a five-speed transmission, while Alfa Romeo claimed the 2600’s power plant was “heir to 1,000 victories”.
In its homeland, the 2600 was to be the Alfa Romeo for diplomats, government officials, and police chiefs, as well as lawyers and business owners. But between 1962 and 1968, only 2,038 Berlinas found homes, compared with 6,998 of the Sprint Coupe. The Guilia, launched in the same year as the 2600, appealed to the Italian bourgeoisie. Meanwhile, motorists who required six cylinders tended to opt for the less prestigious but very agreeable Fiat 2300 Berlina.
In terms of domestic rivals, the Lancia Flaminia Berlina was even more exclusive, while overseas competitors included the Mercedes-Benz 220S ‘Fintail’. As for UK sales, Thompson and Taylor imported a handful of 2600s, sold in RHD form by 1963. The Berlina had a floor gear lever (home market cars favoured a steering column change), and at £2,271 5d, its price was comparable with a Jaguar Mk. X.
In other words, the 2600 Berlina was destined to be an exclusive sight in the UK; Alfa Romeo is believed to have made approximately 500 in right-hand-drive form – Nicholas thinks this figure may exclude CKD-assembled cars. Autocar found it “a splendid machine which anyone would be glad to own – particularly those who can really appreciate the feel and sound of a first-class mechanism”. In other words, Alfa Romeo’s flagship saloon was a car for an owner who thought themselves the Marcello Mastroianni or Sophia Loren of Belgravia.
Alfa Romeo assembled Nicholas’s Sea Foam White 2600 in South Africa to circumvent local import duties. He remarks: “As far as I know that colour was particular to cars made in Port Elizabeth. It was not used by Alfa for their domestic market”. It left the plant on the 22nd October 1964 and was imported into the UK by its previous owner, Jeremy Wilson, who first encountered the Berlina in February 2016. He told Classic Cars: “I already had a Maserati and an Innocenti Sprite Coupe, but I had always been interested in the big Alfa saloon and I wanted a four-seater classic that was able to carry all of the family at 100 miles per hour”.
Jeremy had the 2600 inspected by a South African-based friend, while the paperwork needed to have it shipped from Durban to the UK included a police check. The Alfa Romeo was then shipped by container to Felixstowe via Cape Town, Kuala Lumpur, Singapore, and Rotterdam. On arrival at the Wilson home, it was clear that two months in a container had done little to improve its mood as it would not start. Jeremy was then faced with the entertaining prospect of attending to the engine, suspension, and electrical system.
Finally, the 2600 returned to the road and here is my impression of this fine car from eight years ago:
After just a few minutes, I had forgotten almost all the mundane issues of life in 2016 Britain as I was now Vittorio Gassman en route to a meeting with Gina Lollobrigida. In between images of speeding down the Autostrada A4, I did manage to note that the Alfa Romeo’s ride qualities were perfectly balanced, being neither overly firm nor possessing that marshmallow-like sensation familiar to anyone who has piloted the likes of American influenced European saloons of the 1960s.
And it was the details of the 2600 that especially fascinated me. There was the hand throttle on the dashboard, the circular rev counter and strip speedometer, the bench front seat with separate reclining backrests, and the elaborate heating and ventilation system with fascia vents and a demister for the rear window. The generous headroom was a reminder that Alfa Romeo designed the Berlina when male Italian drivers favoured Borsalino fedoras.
Then there was the 2600’s interior trim: Nicholas points out the home-market models had more luxurious trim than their South African counterparts. If the cabin of the Rover P5 3-Litre Coupe resembled an airport departure lounge – and the Jaguar S-Type a headmaster’s study – then the Alfa Romeo appeared quietly functional. The Berlina could never be described as Spartan, and the best way to explain the decor is “business-like”. After all, if you drove an Alfa Romeo 2600 Berlina, you have little else to prove.
February of this year saw the 2600 find a new home, and I must express my thanks to Nicholas, as I was so taken with the white Berlina. To quote Martin Buckley in Classic and Sports Car:
It had a sweet and tuneful engine that sang freely to 6000rpm, yet with enough torque that you rarely had to drop below fourth, and solid shove to its pick-up in all the gears. It was a hefty old thing to drive, but not the barge the looks suggest. It was very stable and accomplished when driven ambitiously, quite happy on its narrow little tyres, with a ride that was firm but unperturbed.
Since acquiring the 2600 Berlina, Nicholas has made several improvements, including having the steering box and brakes rebuilt, the half-shafts attended to, and the prop shaft re-damped. He finds the Alfa Romeo a delightful car to drive with a free-revving engine, although he is now in two minds about another change:
I reverted to the original airbox and carburettors. In South Africa it had been fitted with Webers and individual air filters. The original carbs, the air box and the air filters were extremely hard to find as they were only ever used on the 2600. But the huge original air box restricts the air flow making the car less spritely than before, though it fills the engine bay much better. Aesthetics or performance?
Thompson and Taylor once described the 2600 as “Ultra-sophisticated and just a touch arrogant”. Or, in the words of Heon Stevenson’s splendid British Car Advertising of the 1960s - “Alfa Romeo produced sporting cars for motorists who appreciated advanced engineering but could not spend days learning about or tending it”.
With Thanks To: Nicholas Heywood-Waddington and Jeremy Wilson for their time, and to Nicholas for the permission to use the image in this blog.