Welcome to a new installment of curbside classics in the streets of my neighborhood, Berlin Neukölln where I present some of the curbside classics that I come across on my daily walks with my son. Today’s installment features cars whose design spans 8 decades. Today’s post focuses, but isn’t limited to, the Germanic and what better way to start off with the grandfather of German mass produced vehicles, the bug aka beetle aka Käfer.
Now why the Käfer turned out to be the success that it was is beyond my comprehension. I assume it to be a melange of it being the only small car design available in Germany that was ready to be mass-produced, and the British occupants certainly helped with that. But why did the rest of the world buy it? Performance was abysmal, packaging was a disaster. My theory is that in no small part it has to do with a morbid fascination for all things Nazi that prevails until today, all over the world. After all, the Käfer was Hitler’s car for the people. Now you could get one for yourself. (ED: that is the first time I have ever heard that theory, and it is by far the most unusual (and controversial) one as to the VW’s success. Hmm)
While the mostly fabricated unintended acceleration scandal almost did Audi in in the US market, the vehicle under attack, the 100/5000 C3, marked a big step forward for the brand in Germany. Some argue its shape to be the mother of modern sedans. The desgin – reused on the Eagle Premier – was clearly Giugaro: An angular body over wheels too small. And while Americans complained about the lack of reliability which was to some part due to a plethora of extra equipment installed on US bound C3s and to another to mechanics inexperienced in servicing Audis, in Germany – where most models where manual windows, manual trans no A/C – the Audi 100 C3 enjoyed and still enjoys a reputation for sublime reliability.
The dashboard of the facelifted 100 C3 was actually reused on the 100 C4. And since the first Audi A6 – the C5 – was but a slightly facelifted Audi 100 C4, our blue A6 C5 wagon pictured here shares most of the controls with the 100 C3. Talk about the Germans‘ knack for recycling! To me, the C4/C5 wagon is one of the most beautiful vehicles of all times. The color makes a point – this is proper eye candy.
Not quite as beautiful, but still pretty attractive and better suited for the inner city parking spot hunt is the Audi 80 Avant B4 that was never available in the US because the tides had turned in favour of the minivan by the time of its conception.
Though officially it is a B4 Avant, it seems more apt to speak of a B3.5: While the front lights are identical to those of the B4 sedan, the rear illumination stems from the B3 sedan. It would be interesting to hear the story behind that factoid though my research has not yielded any results. Ideas?
Moving backwards in time we have now arrived at the B2 chassis which the above Passat Variant station wagon shared with its Audi brethren Audi 80 B2 and the Audi Coupe. The pictured vehicle features the rare inline-5 engine and light brown leatherette seats.
Moving away from the Germans – before we return to them towards the end – I want to talk Prius. The Prius has become almost synonymous with gasoline electric hybrid propulsion and with millions and millions sold they are so common by now that we fail to notice them. But what about the Prius‘ (literally) small beginnings? What we see here must be one of the shortest hood-to-wheelbase ratios of any production sedan ever sold. It’s telling of Toyota’s engineering prowess that they managed to fit both an inline-four and the electric motor in this miniature of a hood.
I love myself a strange story when it comes to the developmental history of a car and this is where the Citroen BX really shines. Sure, we all recognize a weird French hatchback when we see one but what if this French hatchback looks actually much more like a Volvo? And what, if in fact this design by Marcello Gandini from the Bertone design studio were actually conceived in the late 70ies as the Volvo Tundra? Be that as it may, the BX may have looked Italian Swedish but with its hydropneumatic suspension it was properly French. Would I like to drive one with the crazy 160 hp non-catalyst 1.9 liter inline-4 that also propelled the Peugeot 405 MI16 and the 309 GTI-16? You bet I would.
In a common theme with Giugaro’s Audi 100 C3 and the Eagle Premier, design recycling is much more prevalent than big automakers are happy to admit. Nowadays, as the Italian design studio’s have lost quite a bit of their influence, particularly the recycling crazy Germans have taken design recycling to the next level. Or can you really tell a C-Class from an E-Class without using a measuring tape? Even the S-Class coupe looks like a C-Class coupe. Bruno Sacco would not have liked this.
I fancy myself a nice visual juxtaposition. It’s pretty unlikely that the Saab 900 and Trabant 601 where involved in the same car crash but who knows. In the early nineties there were still some Trabants on the newly reunited Germany’s roads while the 900 was at the height of its popularity. Though it is hard to say why they are sitting were they are sitting the owner of the garage seems full of faith in the structural rigidity of his garages. With the Trabant’s plastic body he is probably on the safe side (it also spreads its weight across two garages) but with the Saab, I wouldn’t be so sure.
I remember vividly the sensation of the first generation Mercedes SLK coming to the market in the mid nineties. It is hard to fathom that this event now lies more than 20 years in the past and that the unloved SLK now qualifies as a proper curbside classic. I am not a sucker for modifications but the smoked lights and the – probably faux – golden Brabus wheels actually lend to the design the purposeful stance for whose lack the SLK was harshly criticized in 1996.
If I had to pick a Mercedes that was the polar opposite of the SLK this would be a worthy choice. With the flat front tire it may not be going anywhere anytime soon, but does it matter?
My neighborhood seems to undergo an inexplicable fad for classic camper vans and while not all of them are that interesting, this VW T3 with its ocean cruiser bull’s eye and multiple bicycle rack seems worth a shot.
When – or in case of our US readers: ever – have you last seen a Rover 200? Neither have I, or at least not in years. Note the „floating“ roof, a popular late eighties early nineties design feature the 200 shared with his Japanese half brother Honda Concerto.
“But why did the rest of the world buy it?”
Speaking as an American in the midwest when I bought mine (from the 1968 model year): superior quality.
From the point of view of a German, used to quality in design and production, you may not know how very bad, and irritating, the quality was of American cars in the era of the “kafer”. The “beetle” was slow, somewhat cramped, unsafe, cold in the winter but it had one thing in abundance that no American car did: high quality at a reasonable price.
VW in the Nordhoff era was also quite insistent about building out parts and service infrastructure wherever they expanded to. Most other purveyors of imported small cars weren’t, and stories of weeks- or even months-long waits for parts weren’t uncommon.
I would add that for anyone who wanted the “import experience” that provided tight handling and an involved driving experience (as opposed to the oozing slothfulness of so many American cars of the 50s) the VW was the only one that was really worth a damn. The many French, English and Italian small cars offered here during the first great import boom may have been satisfying out of the gate but were disasters over the long term in American conditions.
Add in the fact that VW was the only one to really concentrate on a decent dealer network here and this explains it all.
I would also add clever marketing, particularly in the ’60’s U.S. Doyle Dane Bernbach made buying a noisy, tail-happy, chilly, dangerous, outdated little car seem smart! And most buyers loved them. Then the counter-culture latched on to the bugs and vans to give them more anti-materialist cred.
I was also going to say quality. Both quality of the product as manufactured and quality in the underlying engineering. This showed itself in longevity, and the ability to endure harsh conditions in service, far beyond what your average British or other European small car would take. You could take a Beetle anywhere in late-fifties Australia; not so an Austin or Renault.
But then the Japanese came along with equivalent quality and service backup in a more modern and conventionally-engineered package. Game over for the Beetle.
Really, I don’t think a fascination with Nazis had anything to do with VW’s US popularity. American car buyers in the Beetle’s heyday were largely made up of 1) The WWII generation who despised Nazis, 2) the mainstream liberal establishment who hated Nazis, 3) Hippies and flower-power youth who hated Nazis and finally 4) Post WWII-age middle Americans who merely disliked Nazis.
Hell, my father (after leaving the Chevrolet dealership) turned down an offer by Volkswagen of America to set up a new dealership in Indiana, PA. And they really pushed hard to get him to take it.
His attitude was that he’d be damned if he was going to sell cars for the same people who were trying to kill him at Cassino twelve years earlier.
“When –… – have you last seen a Rover 200?”
Monday, a white 5 door, but there’s a convertible in metallic green that’s a regular round here. Not quite rare, but not as common as they were even 5 years ago in North Wales.
Dad fought (and killed and captured) Germans in WW2, didn’t stop him from buying his ’66 Beetle 20 years after the war. He explained to people who wondered why that war is war, the people he fought were doing what they were ordered to do as was he.
The Beetle was able to be driven top speed all day long when most small imports couldn’t survive freeway speeds hour after hour. Beetle was by no means perfect, but was quality built, had a good dealer and service network so if you had a problem far from home you could easily get the car repaired. And it got good MPG for the day. His other car was a ’67 Continental, he kept the Lincoln 2 years, the VW he sold to me in 1972.
I’m sure there were/are those who would not buy VW because of the Hitler connection, but I never met a VW owner who bought one because of it. Don’t forget VW owns Audi as well, and Porsche designed the Beetle.
Wonderful explanation, and reminds me of the old bumper sticker: “what if they threw a war and nobody came?”
My uncle, whose older brother was a Marine killed at Iwo Jima, despised all things Japanese, would not own anything made in Japan, and he looked at everything he bought. As he got older, it got increasingly difficult to buy a TV or any kind of goods that did not have Japanese content in it.
Theres at least one more Rover 200 in Germany, English friends dumped theirs somewhere there when the engine died and were unable to find someone to fix it, though its probably a VW door by now. Another varied range of cars interesting theory on the VW beetle they had the nickname ‘Hitlers revenge’ here.
It’s interesting to follow the discussion on the beetle. I said at no point in my article people bought it because they liked Nazis. That’s like saying people who watch WW2 movies like Nazis. Obviously my post failed in getting that point across.
Then perhaps you should explain it in greater detail.
“morbid fascination” is defined as an intense interest in death. I can’t even begin to wrap my head around the idea that Americans and others bought the VW because of “morbid fascination of all things Nazi” unless it was a morbid fascination with the Beetle’s tendency to flip under certain circumstances. 🙂
Americans are by nature a rather optimistic folk, especially so in the 50s and 60s. For that matter, that was a rather common outlook during the Beetle’s ascendancy in the post war era. People wanted to get on with life, and the VW offered them a way to have economical, reliable mobility, often for the first time.
Maybe you’re projecting a somewhat stereotyped tendency to characterize Germans, especially Berliners, as commonly having morbid fascination in general?
Even still. My Dad and Grandpa had one. A red one and a green one. Yet their decision to buy one had nothing to do with Nazis. They bought one because it was inexpensive and easy to maintain.
The Beetle was the Corolla of its day. It was relatively user friendly, dependable, well built (locally built in a multitude of countries) and was a better car than you’re giving it credit for.
Having recently moved to the US, it is striking how many TV documentaries are about WW2 and the Nazis, but I think connecting that (relatively recent) fascination with the T1’s success is a red herring.
It was a car ahead of its time, built for a modern road network. I daily drove Beetles in the early 2000s and they were still pretty effective transportation, although admittedly that was in Scotland – there’s no way I would do that here, but they are still daily drivers in many countries.
I think the theory is incorrect.
My extended family was rife with beetles in the 60s and 70s, this despite our being Dutch. I asked my mother (who has actual first hand experience with Nazis) if there was any conflict or angst about this and she said. “No, we just needed to get to work. And Germans needed to eat too.”
Nice write-up! Being from China, I don’t get the whole beetle discussion. But the Prius! Unbelievable it is now more than 20 years old – great find. Who would have thought the Prius was gonna be such a game changer when it first came out.
Audi’s unreliability has to be more serious than just lack of dealers. Recent Audis stand out in two categories: cars that sound awful, and cars that are permanently parked. I can’t think of another modern car that matches them in those categories.
Roofs can take more than you think. A good snowstorm can add one or two tons to a roof. The Saab’s wheels are over the walls, so its weight is taken by wood in compression. Pretty safe.
Given this is Germany I’d doubt the walls are wooden but I’m saying that from an ignorant British perspective and I’m viewing them on a phone.
Another interesting post, never understood the appeal of the Beetle as it underwhelmed me when I finally tried one unlike a Mini, though I do appreciate quality and reliability, but it was too slow and the lack of a decent heater was a major problem
Don’t necessarily agree with the Nazi fascination perspective though it does exist in other areas, some really odd people about; but why it was picked by the hippy crowd seemed a bit perverse given its origins.
The Audi100 is lovely, my experience of Audi reliability and durability is an exemplary one, it must have been the crap they had to put on it to sell in the US, it was quality where quality counts and great design, I loved my A6, the first generation A8 is an elegant, beautiful looking large saloon
I really like the design of the first generation SLK, classy and not too flash unlike the later models, reminds me of the old 190SL especially with the 200 SLK alloys that look like the wheels of the 300SL , not a balls out sports car, but a nice cruiser. I have been really tempted on many occasions, in silver or white , black leather not the vulgar two tone leather, and black not white dials, but I see so many with rusty arches, I cannot live with a Mercedes that rusts.
Rover 200, there are still quite a few Rovers on the roads in the UK, the 1999 plus Rover 75 is a great car, very underrated, I still have the diesel but looking for a Rover 75 Connoisseur 2.6 v6 petrol for a hobby car
Great article, interesting viewpoints, and quite proper use of the word morbid even if I disagree with the conclusion offered. Other bon mots left me smiling and nodding in agreement.
The reaction, for me as a kid in the US in the 60’s, was that they were intriguing and different. VW’s seemed so molded around the doors, the smells were new, sounds were new, the plastics were unusual colors and textures, the fonts were even something new.
There were extra levers on the floor, a simple dash. I approached it like a dog approaches a new thing, taking in the sensations of it.
Unlike anything I’d seen before, and people around me liked them and used them happily. No idea about Nazis at all at that point, never heard a word about that idea in my circle, which included quite a lot of German heritage.
I didn’t really like them after all that exploration, and never owned one, but drove a few for other people and rode around in them from time to time, as well as the Type 3 which felt like more of the same.
But when I bought my first car, it was a 76 Rabbit, and it had some echoes of those stimuli, without the harshness and slowness and weird internal packaging. It was pleasant and roomy and practical and fast, yet carried over the simple and direct parts I had no objection to.
Guigaro, for all his small wheels, made nicer shapes than Ferry. I put big B sidewall tires on my wheels, eating some sidewall derision from my muscle car friends, and the proportions worked out very nicely. People liked my car, girls wanted to ride in it. Bug girls were a little different than I liked.
I will respectfully disagree with the theory on why people in the US bought VWs. Of course, everyone knew they were German, but I didn’t know about the Hitler-KdF wagen connection until much later in life. (And I grew up loving Muir’s VW book.)
BX and Audi C5 Avant for me. That Audi somehow has a typical German glasshouse look. Hard to describe, but I know it when I see it. See BMW Neue Klasse, Merc W123, VW Type 3 Variant, sundry Opel estates for more details.
I don’t buy the VW-Nazi fascination theory either – people bought a strong, reliable, affordable and capable car from some one who cared about them and the car enough to make them buy another. It was in a different format, but that was much more common in the 50s and 60s. Being German was not an issue to many – after all, 99.999% of modern Germans detest the Nazis and their works as much as you and I do