Description
In a Nutshell the Main Points:
Matching chassis and engine numbers (not a Frankenstein build)
Restored in 2015 by an Italian garage and bought straight from a classic car show
Original Campagnolo wheels from the era
A proper document folder with receipts, MOTs, pictures, original Italian logbook, and more—basically, a scrapbook of her fabulous life
Italian, sexy, and guaranteed to turn more heads than a Lambo in a Waitrose car park
Early, rare example—I’ve never seen another on the road. (She’s more elusive than a builder who shows up on time.)
Original chrome bumpers—no Volvo esk monstrosities here
Well, the time has come to sell at least one of my classic cars. I can no longer justify keeping both—due to many factors I won’t bore you with (late life crisis? Storage wars? Who knows).
More importantly, this beauty deserves to be out on the open road, turning heads—not sulking in the garage, collecting dust and silently judging me for the past three years.
So, meet Rosa—my gorgeous 1967 Fiat 124 Spider.
I acquired Rosa in July 2018 from a fellow enthusiast down in Tiptree, Essex. This chap was a serious collector—think two Ferraris, a Lotus, and Rosa, all sitting together like the coolest car club ever.
He bought Rosa at an Italian car show in 2015 for €20, 000, then had her personally driven to the UK by a friend. Clearly, Rosa doesn’t do Ryanair.
He handed over a mountain of paperrwork—photos, receipts, even the original Italian logbook—and spent about an hour passionately explaining why this little Fiat meant so much to him. Bear in mind, this was a man who owned actual supercars, and yet here he was, raving about a tiny Italian convertible. Respect.
As they say, every day’s a school day. That day, I learned the Fiat 124 Spider is affectionately known in Italy as the “Petit Ferrari,” “Bambino Ferrari,” and even “the poor man’s Ferrari.”
Why? Because it was designed by Tom Tjaarda—the same man who was simultaneously designing the Ferrari 365 GT California and this little gem for Pininfarina in 1965. The family resemblance is there—just, well, one has champagne and the other has Prosecco.
Being one of the early production models, Rosa comes with the original 1438cc DOHC engine and none of the dodgy ‘70s steel quality that caused so many of her younger sisters to dissolve in British weather.
She also boasts the original flat bonnet—not that awkward ‘bubble’ thing they stuck on later—and definitely no oversized Volvo bumpers here. Just clean, curvy Italian lines the way nature (and Pininfarina) intended.
The day I bought her, I knew. Love at first sight. We drove her all the way home—280 miles—with just one stop for fuel, and she purred like a contented kitten the whole way.
Fast forward seven years: I’ve only added about 1, 000 miles. In all that time, she’s never failed to start.
The only maintenance I’ve done? Replaced the battery because my charger gave up on life (clearly not as reliable as Rosa).
Before I found her, I viewed loads of 124 Spiders—most looked like they'd been parked underwater. Rust, bubbling paint, tears (mine). Out of the bunch, only two stood out:
* One was a very original but slightly tired example priced at £25k
* And then there was Rosa—restored, well-documented, and mine for £20k
I'd class Rosa as being in very good condition. No rust, very reliable, and with that undeniable Italian charm that makes strangers smile and old men get nostalgic.
With a little notice I am happy for anyone to come look over Rosa’s curves to their heart content.
I am open to sensible offers but bear in mind I have already taken quite a hit since I bought her in 2018
