Everyone loves to hate the Allegro, but it was revolutionary and popular when new – and quietly charming now
Naming the Austin Allegro as one of my favourite cars might seem wilfully contrarian, seeing as it has come to be viewed as a symbol of what could only be described as a ‘malaise era’ for British car manufacturing.
People of all ages seem to hate the ‘All-aggro’. Some have even put the downfall of the British motor industry on those Harris Mann-designed shoulders, so glaring were its reliability issues and so uncompetitive was its performance in most core respects.
It was downright dangerous in some regards too: a lack of structural integrity led in extreme cases to the rear window popping out when the car was jacked up and there were several cases of wheels falling off in motion.
British Leyland management blamed strikes and the government’s three-day week. Workers meanwhile, blamed poor designs, optimised for money saving and efficiency rather than quality.
There’s probably a bit of truth to both sides of the story, but there’s no denying the issues.
Indeed, the only time the Allegro seems to enter modern automotive discourse is when it turns up near the top of a web article about ‘the worst British cars ever made’ or similar.
But I can only assume that anyone awarding the Allegro this most dubious of accolades has never driven one or at least has only skimmed the contemporary media coverage.
When the car was launched back in the spring of 1973, reviews were actually positive. Autocar’s own read: “Compared with the much older Austin 1300, it is a big step forward in all respects. Apart from its advanced engineering, the Allegro comes with a very complete list of standard equipment and in 1300 Super form offers very good value for money.”
And it still holds up today. I once drove an Allegro 3 more than 600 miles, from Peterborough to Seneffe, Belgium, where some examples were made, and back. It was white with a sorrel (brown) interior, making it possibly the most 1970s thing I’ve ever seen.
It broke down only once, which honestly is fine for a car of that age. And my overriding impression was that it was actually a pretty good car: comfortable suspension, a big enough boot for a weekend away, easy to park and, like with most old cars, a fantastic view of the road. It even sat at 60mph pretty easily.
History paints this unloved Austin as an automotive antihero, but I can only report that we had quite a lovely time together, and I came away feeling like the car had come to be rather unfairly lambasted.
I would have had a worse journey in a similar-vintage Volkswagen Beetle, I bet, and people aren’t quite so mean about that. All hail the Allegro, then.
It was a car that had to be built down to a price during a time of great national unrest but, instead of playing it safe, British Leyland doubled down and made something really weird, with Hydragas suspension, edgy, futuristic styling and a ‘quartic‘ steering wheel that didn’t really work but somehow manufacturers have started copying some five decades later anyway.
Actually, thinking about it, now we’ve had Renault 4 and 5, Ford Capri and Fiat Grande Panda, surely the stage is set for an electric-powered Allegro reboot? Anyone? No? Just me, then
