Rapid, light of my life, fire of my acceleration. My sin, my soul. Ra-pi-d: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Ra. Pi. D. She was Ra, plain Ra, in the morning, parked bright red by the kerbside. She was Rapid in more than name. She was a supercar on the motorway. She was Rapid through the gears. And with my hands on the steering wheel, she was always Rapid.

(with due apologies to Vladimir Nabokov).

It was love at first sight. When I first moved to Slovakia, I needed a car for commuting in and around Bratislava and Vienna, as well as weekend jaunts further afield. Something beautiful to look at. A real eye-catcher. And cheap. And, er, reliable. The Škoda Fabia had just been launched so was too expensive and was not a very inspiring look, and the Octavia was too big. Then I saw her: a red sports car cruising down Dostojevského rad (Dostojevsky Street) in central Bratislava – a literary auto landscape come true. Unfamiliar to me, I enquired about the car…the make, the model…and then the search for the elusive Škoda Rapid began. Eventually sourced in Hlohovec town 50 kilometres from the capital city, the car cost 5,000 Slovak koruna (approx. EUR 250), and was red with a black roof. Do toho!

The Škoda Rapid was a 2-door fastback coupe designed and built by AZNP in Czechoslovakia between 1981 and 1990. It was the first mass production car built in Bratislava. Based on the auto manufacturer’s saloon models (105, 120 and 130) and slated to replace the 110R, the British Autocar & Motor magazine famously described the car “as the poor man’s Porsche” and “a beginner’s course to the 911” due to its rear-mounted engine and rear-wheel drive. And stunning looks. Škoda’s very first five-speed gearbox car, the Rapid had a water-cooled engine that in later models (from 1987) could reach a warp-factor top speed of 152 km/h with dizzying acceleration of 0 to 100 km/h in 16.5 seconds. Vroom.

Incredibly fun to drive, even as its biggest advocate, I would have to concede that the car had some issues.

It was quite hard to start in the winter. And in the summer. All seasons really. The choke was perpetually out. At high speeds, the cockpit wind sound was like flying a biplane. Rain leaked through the window seals. At slower speeds in traffic or in the city, the engine constantly threatened to cut out. Anything about 90 km/h, the vibrations were like Apollo re-entering the atmosphere. The rear engine caused some problems: it constantly overheated, the weight imbalance between front and rear axels caused erratic steering and unnerving nose lift at higher speeds (somewhat resolved by filling the front hood storage with bricks), the cabin had a petrol odour, and the rear windows were smeared with oil.

Technical issues aside, arguably the car’s biggest drawback was being temperamental. Its moods and irritability were matched only by its sensitivity: it was necessary to persuade and cajole. To give encouragement. To praise. Often to plead. Bribery was not out of the question. Like an elderly relative with a dye-hard regimented schedule, it was necessary to adopt a slowly-but-surely approach, even to use trickery or double-bluff (“want to break down at this busy junction? well that’s just fine with me…I don’t even want to catch the 07:32 train…not at all…just enjoying this view…loving this…”). Lending the car to a friend had to be preceded by a sombre and in-depth preclude, a checklist of things the car may or not do and how to respond, what the car likes to hear, how to encourage cooperation.

I had my Škoda Rapid for around four years of happy – sometimes frustrating – driving, before the gearbox disintegrated and the cost of repair exceeded the car’s insurance value. Enjoying a resurgence in nostalgic popularity, the Rapid is now a sought-after classic car, with vintage models fetching high prices at auctions. My current Kia is reliable, quiet, fast and efficient…but it will never take me on the same emotional journey of attachment as my lovely little Rapid.

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