Distance No Object – Fiat 126 Adventure

We’ve all been there. Selling a car, only to be met with the response of “oh, if only you weren’t so far away”. It’s exhausting. How can a car be too far away? It’s a car. It’s primary function is to travel from one point to another. It’s literally its job. People are strange. Not Car & Classic contributor, Bruce Holder, though. He saw a car – a Fiat 126 – he wanted, so he bought it and drove it home. The fact it was 1,280 miles away was neither here nor there. Plus, a yellow Fiat 126 was the perfect addition to his fleet of small, yellow cars. So, flights were booked and a glorious adventure unfolded. An that’s the key, right? Adventure. Memories. Fun. Is that not what classic cars are all about? Bruce, over to you…

Words and photos by Bruce Holder

Circling over Wroclaw for over a hour while waiting for a thunderstorm to pass, I did start to wonder if this might be another omen trying to tell me my latest car purchase was a bad idea? Prior to this, the train, from home in Wales, to Bristol had been cancelled due to strikes, combined with the sheer mayhem and delays at Bristol airport, were both worrying signs that things weren’t really going to plan.

Not Bruce, this is the seller

All of that changed the minute I saw the car for the first time in the flesh. A little yellow Fiat 126 P, which made me smile a lot, and any thoughts of thunderstorms & train strikes were suddenly gone.

Any sensible person would arrange to have the car professionally transported home from its place of purchase. Let someone else take the responsibility, plus the car can’t really go wrong when it’s on the back of a truck or trailer. But where’s the fun in that? Where’s the adventure? Where are the stories you get to recount of the countries you passed through, the people you met, the interesting food you ate, or the mishaps and issues you had to deal with along the way because you decided paying a transport company was far too conventional and, dare I say, boring?

Night time isn’t really a thing when you’re this yellow

So here I found myself stood in a garage just outside of Wroclaw looking at my purchase and wondering how on earth two of us (I’d brought a road-trip buddy with me AKA; RTB) were even going to fit in this thing along with our luggage and the included spare parts? Let alone make the 1,280-mile drive home to Wales? After all, what lay ahead was going to be asking a lot of a 42-year-old 2-cylinder air cooled 650cc engine wrapped in equally old and antiquated Fiat 126-shaped tin box.

An average of 425 miles a day lay ahead over the next three days. Would the car make it? There’s only one way to find out.

Driving a left-hand drive car isn’t an issue for me, I have a few back home. Driving on European roads isn’t a problem either, I’ve done that plenty of times. With the assurance that Google Maps has my back for actually finding the best route home, that’s quite a few boxes ticked. The biggie, however, was coverage/insurance for breakdown. I’ve yet to find a way to get breakdown cover for a UK guy driving an EU registered car on a journey across Europe and home. And this is where that nagging doubt about making this a road trip starts to play on your mind again. With every mile covered you wonder what could happen at any moment. What is that noise? Was that rattle always there? Certainly, for the first few hours at least, then after that, you start to feel a bit settled because if it’s made it this far, it should be OK for the rest. It’s not a dead cert, but a good start is generally a good sign.

Everything is fine…

65 miles into the journey, somewhere on a Polish motorway in the pouring rain problem #1 hit us from out of nowhere. A blow-out on the rear tyre meant I had to make an evasive manoeuvre onto the hard shoulder. Ahh yes, 30 year old tyres that have probably never done more than a few miles at a time aren’t the best recipe for sustained motorway journeys. Spare fitted (with an equally old tyre), a 3hr detour the wrong way commenced to get to a garage that actually stocked the tiny 125 width, 12” tyres.

Whenever someone says new cars aren’t getting too big, show them this

Eventually, two new tyres fitted, we commenced our trip only to hear a loud cracking noise and the rear of the car drop in height. Some checking and it was found the rear suspension spring had snapped in half. In the absence of available springs, some rubber blocks were sourced from a nearby truck mechanic and utilized to prop up one half of the rear spring, enough to allow the car to drive, albeit a bit bouncier than the already bouncy ride. Problem #2 temporarily sorted and, finally, we were able to continue.

Problem #3 didn’t rear its head as we finally crossed the border into Germany. I drove well into the night with only a fuel and food stop, trying to make up the time we’d lost with the tyre and suspension sagas. Around 1am the car was given a proper rest as RTB and I attempted to get a few hours sleep inside the car. A comical idea that was only (partially) achieved through sheer tiredness.

Day two dawned, a fresh tank of fuel, a check over of the car, and some breakfast, then we hit the autobahn again. Target – Helmond in the Netherlands where we could rest at a friend’s house before heading to the ferry at Calais on day three. The remainder of Germany was dispensed with fairly easily, albeit slowly, and we arrived at our Dutch stop without a single glitch. Roughly 2/3 of the journey completed and nothing more to report thus far, the car was running like a champ and thoughts of further incidents were being put further back in my mind.

After a proper night’s sleep and a 4.30am start we headed out of the Netherlands, through Belgium and down through France to Calais in pretty good time for the ferry. Again, the 126 covered this 200-mile stretch without any issues. The vibe was good.

Disembarking at Dover, the remaining 320 miles on home soil were also trouble free, with problem #3 never actually rearing its ugly head, whatever it could have been? It seems the initial run of bad luck was just that… a run that had ran its course. The car may have been slow, but it was faultless the rest of the journey. Well over 1,000 miles without a glitch.

I never see myself as a gambling man. I don’t bet money on anything, I can’t stand fruit machines etc… but this trip made me realise that I am actually a man who likes to roll the dice, just in a different way. The sense of achievement earned from getting home under our own power is a large part of what makes me love buying cars from abroad. The car itself is like the prize at the end of a great adventure. Lots could go wrong, but the reward is so much greater that you put the doubts to one side and just crack on.

Back home in Welsh Wales with Bruce’s collection of small, fun, yellow cars

If you’re thinking of making a vehicular purchase abroad, I can highly recommend it. This was my fourth and it certainly won’t be my last. I’m already eyeing up cars in the US for a much more adventurous purchase and road trip next year.