Gibbs autobiography promo poster

It's been a while since I posted on blog. I've been helluva busy. Or something. Whatever. I'm back in the saddle and with the launch of the my Herschelle Gibbs autobiography drawing ever closer (it hits the shelves on 1 November), it's time to start building the hype.

Publishers, Zebra Press (part of Random House/Struik), have unleashed a PR blitz that begins this week with promo posters in book retailers. And here's the first one...

Portraits by my mate Morne Van Zyl - a fantastic photographer - just checkout www.mornevanzyl.com.

YOU LIKE? Si, MiTo

On test… Alfa MiTo Distinctive

Smith The Elder had an Alfa – two actually. Ja, in his day my pop he was a cool oke. One was a lime green 60’s-era Alga Guilia with a brown interior and a thin wood and aluminium steering wheel. The other was a kak-brown Alfetta with white seats that went like stink and boasted an exhaust that made all the right, fruity noises that Italian engines are famous for.

The same can’t exactly be said for this new Alfa. Its 1.4-litre turbo engine doesn’t have that distinctive Alfa rasp but what the hell – you can go a whole lot quicker in this one than pops ever could in his chorries. Especially if you flip the DNA switch (stands for Dynamic, Normal, and All Weather – smart bunch those Italians). Just like BMW’s M cars do when you tap their magic “M” buttons, engage the little Afa’s Dynamic mode and it sharpens up, hunkers down and disappears quicker than mama Rizzo’s meatballs at cousin Vinnie’s wedding.

Looks wise, it might not be everyone’s shot of grappa. Design cues from the stupendously gorgeous Alfa 8C Competizione are evident, but the MiTo can look a little too cartoonish from some angles – especially that front end. The doors are enormous too, not only long but particularly high. Sometimes one does get the impression that one’s sitting in a tremendously quick bath tub. It’s a very plush bathtub though. The leather-lined interior is classy and sophisticated. Italian, in other words.

And, ja, it’s plenty quick too. Not quite MINI Cooper S-quick, but almost. And it’s this Teutonic Brit that the MiTo is clearly going for. Cleverly priced between the Cooper and the Cooper S, it offers a very tempting alternative in a market that the MINI, Renault Clio RS and Opel Corsa have been romping about in.

If you’re wondering where the weird name comes from, by the way, it represents the automotive union of two Italian cities – Torino, the industrial heart, and Milan, the style capital. There are currently three MiTo models in the local line up - all with versions of the 1.4T engine. It ranges from the 100Kw "Progression" (R227 900), to the 114Kw "Distinctive" I drove (R245 200), and the 125Kw flagship "Quadrifoglio Verde" (R264 000).

The World’s Sexiest Cars

Ladies – I know many of you think cars are mere modes of transport, but it’s time to view four-wheels and combustion engine in a slightly different light. Lingerie, after all, is not just underwear now is it? Some cars are definitely sexy. And some aren’t. Take the Fiat 500… cute as hell, yes… sexy, no. These however, definitely fit into the “sheer hotness” category.

RANGE ROVER SPORT SUPERCHARGED Not only knicker-droppingly fast, but it has the kind of power to move a mountain if you ask it nicely. Plus it'll take you shopping in comfort and style without any complaint. Plenty of space in the back seats too.

TALBOT-LAGO T150 C SS Bringing a touch of 1930s-era Hollywood glamour to our list is this sophisticated French raconteur. Described as “positively indecent” when it was first in 1938, this gorgeous car was voted the best car by the jury at the 2010 Concorso d’Eleganza Villa d’Este… basically like winning Best Picture at the Oscars.

LAMBORGHINI GALLARDO This isn't a car, it's a tall, dark and handsome Italian wearing an Armani suit and the kind of wicked grin that hints at 10 kinds of trouble and 11 kinds of fun. Even standing still, it'll take your breath away.

JAMES BOND'S SILVER ASTON MARTIN DB5 Think an interior clothed in soft and supple Connolly hide, with a faint aroma of classic English aftershave and just a whiff of expensive cigar smoke. And the world's sexiest secret agent behind the wheel. Don't even get us started on that ejector seat.

CHEV LUMINA SS There's nothing subtle about the Lumina. It's leery, uncouth and you can practically see the chest hair peeking out from beneath its bonnet. It's the ultimate bit of rough... but it'll also give you the ride of your life.

BMW Z4 If Brad Pitt was German, he’d be a BMZ Z4. They’re both strong of jaw, tight of butt, and both boast plenty of power under the hood. And just like Brad, The Z4 looks even better when it takes its top of. Yes, it’s mesmerising to watch that metal roof disappear into the boot isn’t it.

TOYOTA PRIUS Something of a leftfield choice. It’s not much to look at and it doesn’t have too much in the way of personality. But sometimes something small and powered by batteries does the job. Now if only it could mow the lawn too.

Beemers and big-bosomed Bavarians

On test… BMW X1 xDrive23d

Mine joined the legion of crinkled foreheads around the world when news of BMW’s new X1 first appeared. “Nooit bru, what the…?”. “ Was ist das, Jurgen?”. “Luigi, non posso credere i miei occhi!” Yes we were all a tad taken aback (though not all quite as much as Luigi) by this latest addition to BMW’s X range of SUVs. Surely they already had all the bases covered? The X3 was the baby SUV, the X5 the dad, and the X6 the gold chain-wearing, midlife crises-having rich uncle? Why would they bother with a baby baby X?

I now know. Because I drove one.

Loaned a top-of-the-range 2.3 turbo diesel in that sort of bronzey/brown metallic colour you see in all their ads, the X1 immediately pulled Beemer’s trademark trick… like all its siblings, the X1 looks a lot better in the flesh. And bigger too. Despite being visibly smaller than the X3 when you park them next to each other, the newer car feels bigger inside, benefitting from better allround packaging and inside. At 1 350 litres with the rear seats folded flat, it’s not quite up there with the X3’s 1 980 in similar mode, but it’s still a lot. Put it this way – there’s plenty of space for five adults or a small family

That aside it was driving the X1 that really impressed. Actually not so much “impressed” as converted… in a kind of biblical way. I was carving through Cape Town’s little piece of tarred heaven that is De Waal drive when the epiphany came upon my person. Such is the brilliance of this car’s handling that a beam of sunlight broke through the grey clouds and a choir of large-bosomed, breast-plated Bavarian sopranos sang “oohoooooooooooh!” in perfect harmony.

Then and there the X1’s purpose in life was made clear to me. It’s simply the perfect urban SUV: it’s spacey enough for a two-sprog family; the xDrive 4x4 system means excellent road-handling and safety; there’s just enough pavement-hopping ground clearance; and it’s a real driver’s car without and any of the usual SUV wobble.

One thing though… I don’t know about that fashionable “Marrakesh” brown it’s painted. This year brown might well be the new black, but next year brown will just be… well… brown. Prices range from R335 500 for the two-wheel drive sDrive18i, to R464 000 for the xDrive23d steptronic

Steve's Crap Car Of The Day

ALFA ROMEO ARNA 1984-87

You’ve probably never heard of the Alfa Arna, right? And I say that not as a comment on any inferior knowledge of automotive history on your part. You simply haven’t heard of the Arna because it was so utterly crap both its parents – Alfa and Nissan – have spent the last 30 years erasing all traces of its existence.

Detailed forensic journalism has however uncovered the following sad story…

On the face of it, the Arna seemed like a really good idea. But then again, just about anything seems like a really good idea if you drink enough saki. Which is clearly what happened when Alfa’s bosses met up with their Japanese counterparts for an extended Friday arvie lunch. How else would men of sound mind come up with this abomination…

Yes, Japanese cars were dead boring too look at, but they were helluva reliable. And sure, Italian cars were sexy as hell but – particularly in the late ‘70s and 80s – totally shite in the reliability department. And again, yes, blending the best of these worlds could well make for a decent automobile. The Italians get Japanese reliability, the Nips get Eyetie glamour.

Si?

Ja… no.

Instead of sticking reliable Japanese mechanicals into a svelte Italian body, they did just the opposite.

The body chosen for this Italo-Nipponese venture was the Nissan Cherry – a hatchback from the Ruler-and-Straight-Line School of Design. And the engine. gearbox and electrics came from the outgoing Alfasud – an automobile whose total lack of reliability has become the stuff of legend. Describe anything as “Alfasud-like” and people know exactly where you're coming from. In fact so bad was the Alfasud that its unreliability was something of a plus. It was even crapper when it actually worked (story for another day though)

And that was the Arna. A crap Japanese body stuffed with even crapper Italian mechanicals.

Not much more to say really. The car was a shocker. No-one bought it. After three years production ceased, and Alfa and Nissan agreed to pretend they’d never met each other.

The name, by the way is an acronym for “Alfa Romeo Nissan Autoveicoli”. I have no idea what a “veicoli” is, but it sounds a lot like a small virus that gives you the shits, doesn’t it?

I'm Down with My Sheeps

I am a sheep. I thought I was an individual, but it turns out that I am, in fact, a sheep. This realization dawned on me last night while watching Miss Texas 1977 at The Waiting Room in Long st, CT.

Until I walked into The Waiting Room’s packed space, I’d been under the clearly delusional impression that I was a man of discerning taste. A man whose sartorial and musical leanings, coupled with his choice of profession, made him someone who stood out from the hoi polloi. But no.

Spread out before me at The Waiting Room – leaning against the walls or sitting on the old sofas and chairs – were a whole bunch of people who looked like me. I mean exactly like me. It was a sea of vintage cowboys shirts, old skool raw denim Wrangler jeans (with turns ups, obviously), limited edition adidas originals sneakers, tweed flat caps, Fred Perry jumpers… and beards. And they were all tapping their feet to the Monster Of Folk track playing as a teaser to the Miss Texas 1977 set. Needless to say one of my favourite recent albums is MOF. I probably recognized at least half the crowd as being involved in media in some way as well.

It fucking freaked me out.

There seemed no best case scenario to this. Either the hoi polloi had become a lot more switched on… or I wasn’t quite as unique as I’d imagined. Mom, you lied to me all these years.

Adding a little irony to the mix was the fact that I was there with my mate Dave The Photographer. Dave and I go back to our days working on SL magazine in the late ‘90s. And Dave once had an exhibition of portraits called “People Who Other People Say Look Like Me”. I was one of the people Dave chose to photograph for that. Everyone else in the room looked like me… and I looked like Dave.

I’m not sure why this has all bothered me so much. I should be… I am… smart enough to know that we all exist within social groups of similar leanings. It’s just that when you see all those similar leanings in one room, it’s a little weird.

To cope with this, Dave and I both ordered double Jamesons with a splash of water. Downstairs at the burger joint Royale we’d also both ordered their “Federale” burger on wheat free buns and mixed chips. How could we not. They’re just so damn good.

Steve's Crap Car Of The Day

FORD EDSEL 1958-60

You can’t write about crap cars and not mention the Ford Edsel. That’d be like writing a piece on short-legged, small-‘tached, bulgy-eyed, fascist dictators of the 20th century and leaving out Adolf. Nope, no car in the history of the world has gotten as much bad press as the Ford Edsel.

There are a couple of reasons for the enormity of its crapness.

The main reason is that it’s a classic case of over-selling and under delivering. Prior to its launch, Ford sent out teaser campaigns affording only glimpses of the car and when it was finally delivered, new Edsels in the dealership showrooms were covered by a tarpaulin. The car was also named after founder Henry Ford’s son Edsel, further implying what a big deal this car must surely be.

In fact Ford hyped the Edsel up to such a degree that the Yanks were pretty much expecting a car that could fly, make one of them new-fangled cappuccinos, and park itself at night.

Imagine then their immense disappointment when they realized the car wasn’t much more than a boring old Mercury (Ford’s sibling company) in disguise.

It was then that the more celebrated reason for the Edsel’s demise began to gather momentum. Look at the grill… look sort of vaguely familiar? Yes, it is indeed a giant chrome vagina. Once the idea is planted in your mind, it’s tough to throw off isn’t it? Oh yeah.

And that, car fans, spelled the end of the Edsel. Ford only managed to shift 84 000 models, less than half their break even target. It’s estimated Ford lost about $350m ($1.5b in today’s money). Spare a though too for poor Edsel Ford – a man whose name would be forever be linked with a shiny chrome va-jay-jay.