Continuing on from yesterday's entry, my mother used to use a garage in Southampton when her cars were serviced, which would often leave her with a loan vehicle. The one which she had most often was a 1992 Citroen BX TZD Turbo. The garage owner had had it for years, and it was well over 15 years old when I drove it.
My mother's BMW 3-series was in for a service, and I had to do something in town, so rather than using my own car, I asked the garage owner if I could borrow the BX. After all, I do occasionally use my mother's car anyway. It wasn't quite what I had expected.
The Citroen BX was launched in the early 1980s at a time when Citroen was still making really peculiar cars. Their line up consisted of the extremely outdated, but crazily loveable 2CV, the tiny little LNA, the interestingly styled (some would say ugly) Visa, the GSA (which had a speedometer like a set of bathroom scales and no conventional column stalks) and the CX, successor to the incredible technological powerhouse DS, but more modern-looking. Not much about any of these cars was conventional. All of them either had strange engines, weird suspension, bizarre steering, odd stylish or oversensitive brakes. Some had all of these at once. The BX was no different.
Carrying on the tradition started by the DS with fluid-filled suspension, the BX had no springs or shock absorbers, but instead had a series of gas filled spheres which formed part of the suspension system. This allowed the car to lower and raise its ride height on its own, which was always an impressive party trick, and theoretically made it possible to change a wheel without jacking up the car!
The bodywork contained many plastic panels, and the interior (especially on early models) was just as idiosyncratic as Citroen fans had come to expect. Available as a hatchback and an estate, with a choice of petrol or diesel engines, the BX was a popular car in Britain in the 1980s and 1990s, even if Citroen seemed to think that having just one windscreen wiper was sufficient for reasons best known to themselves...
By the early 1990s, the 'bathroom scales' speedometer had gone, there were normal indicator and wiper stalks, and the BX had acquired the famous XUD Turbo Diesel engines (available in 1.7 and 1.9 litre capacities). One of the best diesel engines ever, the XUD was rightly famous in the 1980s and 1980s for powering a whole host of Peugeot, Citroen, Suzuki and even Rover cars. Mileages of over 250,000 were common without major problems.
This particular BX TZD Turbo still had a very reliable engine, but the rest of the car was not so impressive. Like a lot of older diesel cars, it was necessary to wait for the glow plugs to warm up before starting the engine from cold (although this did give the car a chance to rise up from the 'parked' position on its hydropneumatic suspension into the normal driving mode). Despite having plenty of equipment, including electric windows and mirrors, I could not find the electric mirror control, and so had a few problems parking when I reached my destination.
The gearlever, unlike most cars, does not have the positions for the gears marked, but at least they are in a conventional 'H pattern'. Like a lot of Peugeot and Citroens I have driven, however, the gearlever was notchy, vague and loose feeling. I was expecting great things from the ride and handling, but was solely disappointed. The car crashed and thudded on surfaces where I expected it to just glide over bumps, and the handling didn't seem that impressive either.
For such an old car, the interior was not in bad order, but the plastics and door trims seemed flimsy and the seat wasn't as comfortable as I had expected. It is not fair to compare a BX to cars 25-30 years younger than it, but I had expected more somehow. The visibility, at least, was quite good, due to a large glass area, although ergonomically, like many of its time, I found the car a bit flawed. The stereo was right at the bottom of the dashboard, and hidden under a flap, and to this day, I still have no idea what happened to the mirror controls.
A common phrase in the classic car world is 'never drive your heroes', and although the BX was never an object of desire (really just more one of curiosity) for me, I can see why this may be true.
