Adorable French Charmers: 1972 Citroen Ami vs 1995 Renault Twingo

Iaorana, Autopians! I have returned, more or less rested, and only a little sunburned, to once more guide you through the weird waters of the cheap used car market. I want to say a heartfelt mauruuru to Griffin and David for keeping the lights on while I was away. And with that, I have exhausted the two words of Tahitian I managed to learn, so let’s get back to cars, shall we?

Yesterday, Griffin showed you some sort of plastic sporty thingamajiggies. I don’t know; they’re popular with retirees, or something. They kinda look the same to me, but he seemed awfully excited about them. The poll as of this moment only shows 43 votes; can that be right? It seems that you all don’t share Griffin’s enthusiasm for America’s Sports Car.

Seriously, though, if you want a Corvette to actually drive, and don’t want to spend a fortune on it, it seems to me you want a C5. Yeah, they’re bland-looking, but they’re good performers without being all “grr” about it. But like some of you mentioned in the comments, just look for a regular C5 for half the price of this one, and don’t worry about the Z06 package.

Now then: We told people we were going to Tahiti, but that’s not quite accurate. Tahiti is the biggest island in French Polynesia, and it’s the one with the international airport, so you kinda have to go there to get to any other island. But we actually spent most of our time on the next island over, Moorea, a half-hour ferry ride away. Moorea has one good paved road, circling the entire coast, and that’s pretty much it. There are one or two roads that lead to the interior, but they get unsuitable for normal cars pretty quickly.

The ring road is about 80 kilometers long, one lane each direction, and definitely puts the “French” in French Polynesia. The road signs are standard round European signs, and the bulk of the cars I saw were little Renault and Peugeot hatchbacks. Most were newer models, like our rented Peugeot 208, but I did see quite a few old survivors still making the rounds. So today, in honor of these island runabouts, we’re going to look at two delightful little French cars.

1972 Citroën Ami 8 Break – $13,695

Engine/drivetrain: 602 CC air-cooled overhead valve flat 2, four-speed manual, FWD

Location: Medford, OR

Odometer reading: unknown

Operational status: Runs and drives, but has a few quirks

Right after World War II, there was a proliferation of cheap and cheerful cars in Europe. Folks needed to get around, but there wasn’t much in terms of resources to make them, or purchasing power to buy them, so they had to be small, cheap, and simple. Volkswagen’s Beetle was the most successful, but the Fiat 500 and Citroën 2CV sold like hotcakes, too. But as time went on and Europe’s economy started moving again, it became clear there was a market for larger or fancier cars, but still not much money to develop them. The old platforms would just have to be stretched a little further. Thus, the Beetle begat the Type 3 and 4, the Fiat 500 begat the 600 range, and the 2CV begat this car, the Ami.

Mechanically, it’s about the same as a 2CV: same air-cooled flat-twin driving the front wheels, same interconnected leading/trailing arm suspension that makes bumps magically disappear, same oh-no-it’s-gonna-scrape-the-door-handles cornering attitude. It’s just a little bigger and more substantial car, though that’s not saying much; the 2CV is about as wispy as cotton candy. In the Ami, the engine displaces 602 cubic centimeters and puts out a whopping 32 horsepower. The seller wrote a whole novel about this car in the ad, and I had to read the whole thing to ascertain its mechanical condition. It runs and drives, after some work to undo damage done by a previous owner, but still leaks a little oil from a stripped drain plug, and third gear no longer has a synchronizer. The seller says it’s just a matter of practice to shift it well.

Inside, it’s all good old-fashioned Citroën weirdness: your interface with the car consists of a single-spoke steering wheel and that same umbrella-handle gear shift that I’m dying to try some day. The interior is in good condition, but it ought to be; it’s not much more than some black vinyl stretched over everything. The front seats are not original, but they do look comfy.

This is the “Break,” or wagon, form of the Ami, and I’m not sure a car is capable of looking more French than this. But not in a “look down its nose and flick a Gitanes butt at you” way, more of a “stylish girl carrying a picnic basket with a baguette sticking out” sort of way. It’s friendly, a little gawky maybe, but appealing. And completely rust-free, according to the seller. Can’t say that about every fifty-three-year-old car.

1995 Renault Twingo – $4,000 CAD

Engine/drivetrain: 1.2-liter overhead valve inline 4, five-speed manual, FWD

Location: Vancouver, BC, Canada

Odometer reading: 85,000 kilometers

Operational status: Runs and drives well, former daily driver

Here is a car that, in these circles, probably needs no introduction. Renault’s delightful Twingo economy car has been an icon ever since it came out, at least among those of us who pay attention to small economy cars we are geographically prohibited from buying. And now that the Twingo has aged into import eligibility, the dream can finally be a reality. This Twingo is for sale in that magical land to the north, where they can import cars a full ten years younger than we can down here in the US. As such, this car has been owned by the same lucky enthusiast since 2013, and was daily-driven for several years.

Behind the Twingo’s charming smile is an absolute dinosaur of an engine: Renault’s “Cleon” overhead valve inline four, which dates all the way back to the early 1960s. This one is fuel injected, and oriented east-west instead of north-south like it was in the Renaults of old.  It’s a simple engine, but if it was good enough for the Alpine A110 and Renault 8 Gordini, I imagine it’ll do fine here. And judging by the condition of some of the Twingos I saw in Tahiti, these are tough little cars. The seller says it runs great, and they’ve taken to driving it daily again just to make sure it’s ready to go.

The Twingo’s interior was pretty stylish in the ’90s, but it’s a bit dated-looking now. I do like that upholstery, though. The carpet is a little grubby, but it’s in good shape otherwise. And while you might think of small economy cars as being “poverty-spec,” you’ll be pleasantly surprised that the Twingo has power windows, power locks, and the all-important air conditioning. And one thing the Twingo was praised for when it was new was its interior space; it’s a small car, but you can actually fold all the seats flat and sleep in it. Or, you know, not sleep. Oh la la.

But it’s that charming face that we all fell in love with, a face that’s instantly recognizable coming down the road at you. Twingos came in a bunch of good colors; this one is a little more subdued, but you don’t see many purple cars. The seller says the previous owner painted the bumpers silver, and now the paint is flaking off here and there. It’s fine; it looks a hell of a lot better than some of them I saw last week.

French cars got a bad reputation in the US, and I’m not sure why. In other parts of the world, they’re known for toughness and reliability; look at the Peugeot wagons and pickups trundling around Africa with a bazillion miles and no window glass, running on pure spite. And after seeing them in action, as well as driving one myself, last week, I have a newfound appreciation for little French cars. Besides, lots of other cars look alike, but nothing looks quite like these. Which one has stolen your heart?