Cinquecento Racing!

Warning: do not try this at home!

T

he Cinquecento and I . . . we seemed to see a lot of the world together. I moved out of home with the Cinquecento, cruised the streets of Stoke-on-Trent, and of course raced my housemate, who had a similar model Cinquecento with a registration number that was almost identical. Mine was M689 and his was M709: scary!

Of course, mine was a lovely metallic red in colour and his was metallic blue, and as everybody knows, red is quicker than blue. I just had to prove it!

Our campaign of Cinq Racing originally started with “Gran Turismo” on the PlayStation. The Gasman, as we used to call my housemate, used to go pop under pressure but he claimed that this was because it wasn’t real. On the road, he said, he would be loads quicker than me, oh and also because blue is quicker than red.

So of course, we tried it. Our initial clash was when we happened across one another on the way home from work. We didn’t make it home until we’d diverted to Hanley, and I’d demonstrated my “around the roundabout” technique using the /ahem/ wrong lane. The inside lane, then giving it some lock to scream (a Cinquecento Scream of course) around his outside.

The second incident was a planned dash from Trentham, Stoke-on-Trent, to Stone, in Staffordshire, early one Saturday morning, along the A34. Now the A34 has lots of hills, a few decent sized roundabouts: plenty of opportunity to pick up distance. The Gasman did have a head start, and given that both cars were the same model, catching up proved to be a challenge! The one advantage of the Gasman being in front was that the DervMan could see where the speed cameras were.

Upon arrival at Stone, the DervMan conceded that the Gasman had won that round.

The final confrontation was in Hanley, one warm summer evening and it is this encounter that was most interesting. I watched as the Gasman filled his tank and left Sainsbury. As soon as I appeared behind him, windows down, arm hanging out, I heard the glorious sound of a small Fiat engine heading towards the red line! The Gasman took his Cinquecento around the roundabout the ragged side of loopy and shot up the road. The DervMan followed at a more sedate pace (mainly because he was stuck behind another car). Once clear of the old dear in the Micra, we dropped down a cog, raced up the bypass, heading towards the Gasman who was waiting in the queue to go left. As I reached the roundabout, he was the second car to go. A gap appeared, of which I took full advantage, in the right hand lane, signalling right. I careered around the centre of the roundabout on two wheels, probably much to the annoyance of everybody else, emerging at the right place and I know that was to the Gasman’s annoyance.

He pulled out in front of me, so naturally I swept past using a part of the road not usually driven on (!) and proceeded, at best speed, down the slip road, trying to match road speed with the traffic (doing about 70 or so). The Gasman was still some way off. I snuck between two HGVs and felt smug, right until I saw a blue streak shoot past on the hard shoulder and get in front of the lead HGV. Boxed in, all I could do was wait for the passing cars to give me some space to accelerate, down to the next roundabout, where again the Gasman had been held up. We crossed the line together, but given that we were leaving the roundabout on a single carriageway, I decided not to push a bad situation and let him get in front. Now we’re on the dual carriageway heading for home, which is a 40 restricted area, and he’s doing 42. I accelerate, then ease off for the camera, then accelerate, boxing him in behind somebody doing 40. The look of extreme frustration on his face as I inch past the second camera should be framed.

Sadly, the other car pulls off, so the Gasman accelerates back towards me. We both go through the third camera at the same time, about 45. Nothing: no flash. We both accelerate in third gear, but I decide that I don’t want an SP30 for the fourth, and final, camera, and ease off. The Gasman gets in front...

Flash! Flash!

These days I’m far more responsible, I’ll stick to track days for this kind of fun.