Don’t tell the North Wales Police, aka the Traffic Taliban, but I’ve just got back from an absolute blast round Snowdonia in a proper boy racer. Well, actually, you can grass me up to the heddlu as much as you like, because I’ve only tooling around the principality in a digital, virtual reality, sense, and even then the speed limit was obeyed. Abarth, you see, a Fiat group performance brand, is offering prospective owners of the souped-up versions of the familiar Fiat 500 what is claimed to be the world’s first VR road test.
When the marketing folk first offered me the VR ride of my life I admit I got my hopes up. I was expecting a full-on Nasa-style flight-simualtor pod to turn up on my doorstep, complete with steering wheel, pedals and full g-forces. But no. Instead, a gigantic Abarth-branded crate turned up, and inside was a headset, some earphones and a sort of control stick. That was it.
Still, once I’d got everything organised, surprisingly easily, I was indeed flying through the Welsh countryside. Rather than “driving”, I was the passenger sitting next to some bloke in a beard who’d stop every so often and point out the unique features of the Abarth 595 Scorpioneoro special edition, whether I liked it or not. At least it wasn’t raining (in “Wales”, not my living room).
These unique features are a matter of your own unique taste, being a gold coach stripe, 17-inch gold alloy wheels and gold badging inside and out. It’s bling, but so well done it almost transcends bling – but not quite. A little plaque between the front seats tells you that your car is number something of 2,000 manufactured. It’s a tenuous tribute to an earlier fast little car from the Fiat group, the 1979 Autobianchi A112, a hatchback from 1979, which was a pretty little hot hatch in its day, though never sold in the UK. I think the “Scorpioneoro” bit refers to the famous Abarth badge. The Abarth’s interior is nicely appointed, I should hastily add, and not vulgar at all.
Sitting on my living room sofa but suddenly immersed in a 360-degree Abarth in Snowdonia was great fun, it has to be said. Look to my right, there is this stranger beardie, look up and there’s a clear sky, and all around the world passing rapidly by. Obviously I didn’t get the full driving experience, but I did start to feel a bit car sick after the 20 minutes I spent on the imaginary road. Apart from that it impressed. It made me wonder what a real Abarth 595 Scorpioneoro was like to drive.
The spec
Abarth 595 Scorpioneoro
Price: £22,345
Engine: 1,368cc, 4 cyls, turbo; 5-speed manual, front-wheel drive
Power (hp): 165@5,500rpm
0-62mph: 7.3 secs
Top speed: 136mph
MPG: 37.7mpg
CO2: 167g/km
Fortunately, rather than a drive simulator, a real life Abarth 595 Scorpioneoro was outside my front door, and I can confirm that it’s as much of a hoot in the real world as it is in VR. Plus you do have more fun punting it around, albeit relatively locally. The noise the Abarth makes is a sort of constant gurgling, and maybe a bit too loud, but then again you’d not really want one of these if you’re a bit bashful. The Abarth, being so noisy and small, feels much more sporty and fast than it actually is, because it’s not that great a performer in real reality, as opposed to virtual reality. It’s not even that more sporty than any Fiat 500 fitted with the 1.4 litre engine, though it is agile and handles well.
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The downside is that it only has a five-speed gearbox, and no cruise control, which makes motorways even more of a bore. The Abarth has a “Sport” button on the dash, which doesn’t seem to have much point to it, and the steering is a bit light and disconnected feeling for what’s supposed to be a sports car of some sort. In objective terms, the VW Up! GTI is a better package, but it’s very boring looking next to this extrovert.
At my age, with mulletesque hair and temporarily a little arthritic after my Covid jab, I felt a bit like the oldest swinger in town clambering out of the half-leather bucket seats of my black-and-gold four-wheeled midlife crisis fashion accessory. It’s an old model now (the car, not me) and it costs over £20,000. There’s no great case to be made for it on any sensible grounds, and you buy it because it looks cute, sounds ridiculous and is better in real life than in VR.
