The end of November marks a full 12 months of ownership of my mad little yellow bucket of crazy. At the risk of incurring the wrath of the mechanical gods, it's been absolutely faultless to own. It breezed through its first MOT and major service in my ownership and, even more remarkably, it's still sitting on the same set of (expensive) performance tyres it came with - with only minimal wear. And I've made some decent use of the Loud Pedal, but all perfectly legal, officer.
A full spectrum of seasonal driving has revealed some of its downsides though. It only really has two states of being: switched off or absolutely berserk. On smooth, curving roads its general manners and ability to surgical slice through apexes is genuinely breath-taking - a particular highlight being one particularly cocky Focus ST owner, flashing their lights for a race on the daily commute home, left for dust whenever we hit the twisty stuff. When the conditions are right and the surface decent, it's easily the most rapid cross-country drive I've ever had.
Reflecting on when I was researching the Abarth last summer, I think Autocar captured its character best: "bumper-car compactness and manoeuvrability, brusque handling, and the fierce yet patchy acceleration of a terrier gathering speed on wet grass." But one thing I don't love is the punishingly hard ride for a "daily." Try to push it too far on our more typical bombed-out British B-roads, and you risk being chucked through the nearest hedge and coming to rest coughing up a vertebrae or three. It's an utter savage through and through.
Still, it is consistently brilliant fun, and I'm also quite fond of its Marmite nature with other motorists; from angry boot-hangers, thinking it's "just a noisy 500" - before binning them with a quick drop-shift into second gear and a stomp on the accelerator - to boy racers' jaws hanging open when they hear the frankly rude 'Record Monza' exhaust system detonate into life. That thunderous burble is likely as close as I'll ever get to owning a V8, and I'm okay with that.
All said and done, its proud unhingedness still makes me grin like a loon when I walk back to it at the petrol station. Just like this first photo I ever took of it, about 20 minutes after collection in late 2020.
