What 911?

The gravel crunched satisfyingly underfoot as I walked towards my test-drive mule – a gleaming Atlas Grey Porsche 911 Targa - a beautiful masculine blue which appears to change its hue in different levels of sunlight and shade; a dark blue in some lights, slate grey in others. With so many modern silver Porsches on the road today I decided if I was to take the plunge, I desired something a little different. A little rarer. And here it was in front of me; my first 911 experience. The kind salesman made me coffee and described to me all the nuances of this particular model. I digested much of what he was saying but was mostly just staring through the patio doors of the cossetting sales lounge, admiring the lines of the car outside. That could be mine, I thought. Patience. I had yet to see any others let alone drive one.

Since seeing the black 911 in my street recently I had taken the time to research the marque, looking back about 30 years to see what was out there. I was almost overwhelmed by the sheer number of variations; 930, 964, 993, 996, 997 and each one with potential variations of their own; C2, C4, C4S, Targa, Turbo, GT2, GT3. I had not seen that many numbers since receiving a breakdown of fees from an estate agent. What did they all mean?

Some Internet trawling revealed to me that the 964 designation (no idea where it comes from) has an air-cooled engine (similar to that of a VW Beetle from which it derives – I could feel the jibes from friends brewing already). It is also notoriously known as a real drivers’ car, a bit of a handful, a rough diamond. A widow-maker even. I had not yet written a will and did not wish to end it all upside down in an air-cooled anything. Not my shot of Jagermeister then.

I learned that the 993 – softer, purer lines of the body, also air-cooled – is termed by “those who know these things” as the last great 911. That might explain their current healthy forecourt values. A quick peer at the interior (without leaving my sofa of course) revealed quite austere, Germanic functional detailing. Next.

The latest model – the 997 - was well beyond my budget though a very pretty car. I chose to focus therefore on the 996 models, in particular the face-lifted version. Shock! The first ever water-cooled Porsche! 'A travesty!', I heard the naysayers cry. Perhaps, but it’s also the engine that probably saved the struggling Porsche motor company of hte mid Nineties. Earlier, pre-face lifted versions had a remarkably similar nose to the Boxster – apparently the Porsche for those who could not afford a 911. I didn’t like the front headlamps – looked like fried eggs cooked on a low heat. I also read about nasty, very un-German inefficient things happening to their engines when oil and water mixed.

My test drive car was in fact a Targa – a German word meaning “full-length retractable glass roof allowing for much hair tousling experience”. Not a convertible; I couldn’t bear to drive a convertible Porsche. I tend to associate such cars with people who talk loudly in restaurants.

“Shall we take her out?”. Oh, yes, of course. I had forgotten Sales Man was still in mid-patter. We sunk into the firm hardback seats and closed the doors with that reassuring thunk of a well built vehicle. Engine at the back of course – an odd sensation which makes you want to turn and look over your shoulder to see where it is. Sales Man trundled us out of the estate, across the gravel and into light early afternoon traffic. Still chatting away I was a muddle of emotions and excitement. I’d already decided I wanted to buy it. I didn’t even need to drive it to be sure. It felt fantastic. Just what I had been hankering after for so long. Upon returning to the garage, we shook hands on the deal. The car was mine. I was now a 911 owner.

A few days later I returned with a spring in my step to collect my car. Finance in place, Sales Man satisfied, 911Rookie ecstatic, keys in hand. This car needed to be driven. Hard. I couldn't wait to turn the key....