In the 1990s, France produced a showdown between two glassfibr-ebodied supercoupés with boosted Renault V6s: the Alpine A610 and Venturi Atlantique. Do they deserve to remain in perpetual obscurity?
As I regard the pair of polished, distinctive Porsche rivals before me, I find myself wondering why French sports cars like the Alpine A610 and Venturi Atlantique 260 are so rare. They sprung from the nation of Le Mans, arguably the one that invented motor sport full stop. Both hail from a tradition of Renault-engined garagiste specials that have at times dominated Formula One and sports-racing alike. And yet, neither ever troubled sales of Porsche or Ferrari. Today, I’m going to drive both and find out whether either car deserved to sell better than it did.
A610 owner Vince Santini arrives at our test day first after a long early-morning commute in his 1992 example, and it’s clear he’s very relaxed and comfortable with his lot – it’s a consummate motorway car he says, and great fun to drive in the Cotswolds backlanes. Seems like reason enough to jump in and take it for a quick spin to get familiar with it.
Inside, it’s a very mixed bag. The floor-hinged pedals might add a layer of quirkiness, but that’s countered by the quite ordinary instrumentation, uninspiring dashboard and standard-fare Renault steering wheel. Vince has done a great job of retrimming his car, and I love the GTA-spec leather seats he’s fitted, much more interesting-looking than the cost-constrained
A610 pews. The best news soon becomes apparent, and it’s quite simple – the A610 really isn’t an intimidating car to drive at all. It’s a large car – wide, low, and very much an old-school supercar in its proportions – but with all that glass and decent seating position, it’s easy to see out of. Look behind, and there’s even a pair of vestigial rear seats. Probably best for your luggage, rather than anyone with legs or a head.
Fire it up, though, and it sounds very fruity. Vince tells us that the straight-through exhausts are far from standard, explaining some of that magnificent soundtrack. Acceleration is rapid rather than ballistic, but it’s enough to trigger all manner of synapses thanks to the amazing baritone engine note bellowing its V6 music as you search for the redline. Wow.
The flow is hampered a little by the long and slightly obstructive gearchange, but given the heavy flywheel and the engine’s tardiness in dropping its revs, slow gearchanging is probably the best course of attack for the keen driver. Does it feel like a sub-six-second 0-60mph car? Not entirely, but I
