It has been very quiet on the Alfa front for a number of years but it must secure its place in the automotive hierarchy and the Giulia is not a bad starting-point. When the red saloon was reversed onto my driveway, I shall admit that it looked splendid, not just from the rear haunches, which are most pleasingly detailed, but from being more competently strung together and possessing a strength of purpose. Taut panel shut-lines create a very 3-Series profile and a slight pout to the door sills aids a hunkered-down stance that is supplemented by the encircling wheel-arches fore and aft, again a sporting visual ploy to draw the car closer to the road surface.
The nose is pure Alfa, from shield grille and prominent, charismatic badge, to the moustache elements, the silver shadow accent and hint of an aerodynamic splitter. Avoiding fussiness and clutter, the car possesses a clean flow that is supported by a slightly feline quality to its bonnet and fenders. It is a complete design that imparts an impression of unerring quality, solidity and strength of purpose.
Inside, there exists a Ferrari-esque appeal to a red body containing saddle-coloured hide in abundance, the dashboard divided from its upper black section by another swathe of neatly stitched tan material and a tasteful sliver of ‘alloy’ trim, all of which is eminently tactile and features no visible brittle surfaces. The signature ‘twin cowls’ harbour the main analogue instruments, although a wider gap between them contains a legible digital display, the contents of which can be altered by depressing the button in the end of the right-hand stalk.
A large, configurable information screen is located in the dash centre, a knurled hand control (just behind the gear selector) providing an interface to its simple text displays and clickable elements. Apart from the vinyl cushioning to the side buttresses of the central tunnel, an ‘alloy’ slider reveals a pair of cupholders but the overall impression of the interior is that it is as unfussy and unadorned as the exterior. There is no complexity, yet it is well-stocked and possesses a ‘does-what-it-does’ relatable quality.
Those tan seats, electrically operated, with their sportingly stitched lateral panels, hip bolsters, manually adjustable thigh supports and a near unheard of extensive range of adjustment ensures a northern European level of comfort that southern Europeans have been reluctant to provide for many years. I would venture to suggest that Audi may have inspired the cabin couturiers in Milan, as the resultant driving position is not merely comfortable and accommodating to a wide range of driver statures but also eschews the sometime notorious ‘Italianate ape’ compromise familiar to owners of older Alfas.
However, there is also space in the rear seats, even though taller front seat occupants might have to jiggle their chairs forwards a notch or two for more comfortable accommodation. It is no better than with any of the Giulia’s perceived class rivals. The boot is well-shaped, with storage panels in the carpeted flanks, although the underfloor is predominated by a large, sound-deadening polystyrene block. There is space for a couple of loaded golf bags but it is not as practical as you might hope.
The best way to describe the Giulia’s on-road deportment is to use words like sinuous, muscly and fluent. Although the customary ‘DNA’ adjustable chassis settings are carried into this car, they are truly superfluous. The default setting is ‘N’ for Normal and the Giulia behaves beautifully, when left to its own devices. The ‘D’ (Dynamic) is stiffer and unrelenting, while ‘A’ is difficult to discern. I have zero issues with the seamless sensuousness of this Alfa’s ride quality. You can feel the suspension working but even the worst effects of broken road surfaces are massaged away from the cabin.
Body roll is only slight and the turn-in to corners is crisp and measured, helped in no small part by high-geared steering that demands little more than thought to alter a chosen direction. The wheel itself is of just the right diameter and features (Ferrari-style) the stop-start button within a left thumb’s reach of its rim. Lane-change manoeuvres are fuss-free and the general handling is a match for any of Alfa’s rivals and is significantly better than most.
Of course, what helps Giulia’s stance is a kerbweight of just over 1.37-tonnes. This Alfa is a welterweight. Rear-wheel-drive is its 50:50 weight-distributed cause celebre and weight-savings have been made by the use of carbon-fibre for the propshaft, aluminium for several body panels and advanced plastics for the sub-structures. Powered by a silken 2.2-litre turbo-diesel four-pot that develops 180bhp and a very healthy 332lbs ft of torque, driving through an 8-speed automatic gearbox, the Giulia’s performance is sparkling. It despatches the 0-60mph benchmark in 6.8 seconds, provides a top speed of 143mph, emits only 109g/km CO2 and sips fuel at an Official Combined rate of 67.3mpg (I obtained 57.9mpg in a mix of town and country driving conditions).
Price-tagged at £35,190 (not including FCD discount), in Speciale 180hp form, from a range that starts at £29,550 (2.0-litre petrol), the Giulia is market-priced, which is understandable, if not entirely excusable. However, it is pitched directly into the middle of the A4, 4-Series, C-Class, GS and XE sector. Fortunately, it out-guns all of them and out-punches the Teutonic threesome. It feels so eminently gorgeous that I was resenting its key fob being prised from my bony fingers at return-to-maker time.
