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Music and muscle – or owning a Fiat Dino as a life goal

Boys and toys. Sure you recognize it. Bigger boys, bigger toys.

The Dino wriggled its way into my life in different stages. Some rather surprising. It took various sparks to light the fire. Let me start at very low age, I was 8 years or so.

As a little boy, my time was filled with racing my Dinky Toys on the rectangular patterns on the floor and carpets. My loving parents knew what makes a little man happy and knew what to choose on December 6^th, when Saint Nicolas brings toys to the well-behaving children. That year, just like the year before and the year after, they went to the store and asked for some scale model cars. What brand? What type? Whatever, little did they know. They let the shop assistant choose. And that’s how, one 6^th December morning, the Holy Saint had brought me a grey Dino coupé 2000. At that precise moment I must have developed a fascination for automotive design. I could tell the aesthetic difference between my Dino on one hand and the boring other cars in my collection. It became my favourite toy. I looked out for Dino’s in real life but couldn’t find any in the street. So it had to be special.

Jump forward a year or two. My favourite uncle, an excellent mechanic and joyful character, had a garage workshop in a small town near to us. A diverse selection of cars came in for maintenance, amongst which many Alfa Romeos and Fiats. The blood in his veins must have been a mixture of green, white and red petrol.

At some point he got the dealership for Fiat. Although very small scale, he received the marketing materials from Fiat Belgio and was presenting them in his little office. One day I was in his office, nosing in the latest Fiat sales catalogue. All models from the 500 to the 130 were twinkling and laughing at me. Hell yeah, there on the last page was the grey Dino Coupé that I was so fond of ! The exact copy of my toy.

I smuggled the catalogue into my bedroom and come home drooled in it for hours and hours. Playboy-esque men with a Colgate-smile were pictured driving the Dino, ravishing long-legged Italian models were apparently their prey.  If ever there was one prospect in life to prove that one was a man of high esteem and success, it must have been to own and drive a Dino. I was convinced. One day I would drive one.

As it goes, young boy’s dreams linger on, they slowly dissipate in the background but never go away completely. Things get more serious in life, secondary school asks your attention and girls too. Until my last year in secondaries. I must have been 17 when the following spark appeared.

Our class was situated on the fourth floor of the school building with a view on the street. I had the premium position by the window – maybe I was the bravest pupil but I honestly doubt it – and could see all traffic passing by in the street.

One morning I was early in class and could see teachers arriving in their ridiculous boring cars. Austin Allegro’s, Opel Kadett’s, Ford Escorts. Suddenly – as if a gigantic hole formed in the clouds and a ray of sun illuminated only a few square meters – an apple green Dino 2400 coupé appeared in the street. I was scotched, as if a nuclear fallout had just frozen all life around me. I couldn’t believe my eyes. And even less when this supercar parked right in front of the school building. Wow, what a fantastic day this would be. I could contemplate this green beauty all day.

I was of course curious to watch the driver getting out of his car. Was this the successful man that I had imagined all Dino drivers to be? Would he meet the imaginary profile? Would he be the modern playboy or rich guy that could show off his success and good taste with an almost socially acceptable flair?

None of all this. The guy that stepped out of this car was bluntly Filip, an 18 year old boy that was just like myself in the last year of secondaries but in another class. At that moment the rationale behind this miraculous event began to clear. Filip was the son of the local Fiat dealer. By that time – I guess we’re talking 1975 – Dino was out of production, but some dealers had a few leftovers that they had been unable to sell or kept for themselves. So Filip, from the day he had his driver’s license, took this leftover Dino as his daily driver to school. Imagine the faces of the teachers who parked their lumpy cars next to the Dino in the morning. Although…. They were illiterate when it comes to car design and didn’t have the slightest clue about how unique this car was.

I did. And was jealous – wouldn’t you? I tried hard to become good friends with Filip. I succeeded to the point that I had one short passenger drive in the car. But that was it. Filip left school, I never saw the car again. And Filip? He will make a short cameo further in the story.

The next leap forward now is a giant step. Again, life takes over, houses are built, children are born and raised, careers develop, no time for hobbies, you name it. All great things but no room for something special like owning a Dino. The aspiration of owning a Dino tumbles to a cellar position of the priority ladder.

Dino’s have never been seen in big numbers, so little chance of crossing one in the street that would spontaneously spark that old flame again. But a good 30 years later, July 2012, that spark suddenly arrived by coincidence. This time for good.

Travelling for my holidays from Belgium to Tuscany, I made an intermediate stop to cut the long driving distance in two. The Lago d’Orta was just under 1000 kilometres from home, and the drive to Tuscany on the following day would be cosy. Moreover, I anticipated the Lago would be a charming place to stay for a night and have a short stroll in the morning.

In the morning I went down to the bakery in San Maurizio d’Opaglio to fetch some rolls and bread for my fellow-travellers. I parked on the little parking lot, got out of the car and then…… was greeted by the rear face of a grey Dino 2000 coupé. Nailed to the ground. Thor had struck me with his hammer.

The Dino was sitting in the forecourt of Daniele, a local mechanic with a small garage. With my pasta-and-pesto Italian vocabulary I approached the guy and asked if I could have a look. At first a little reluctant, Daniele let me have a look. He must have seen the fever in my eyes. Clumsily I asked him if it was for sale. It wasn’t. It was his own toy. Despite the language barrier our conversation was warm and we discovered we shared a passion for automotive beauty – both body and mechanical soul. Around 11 o’clock I left his garage, found out that the bakery had sold out except for a saltless old lump of bread, and returned to the holiday apartment where the others were eager to start breakfast. I wasn’t received with great honours and trumpets. I remember the word hungry.

My meeting with Daniele and his Dino set off a process every owner will surely recognize. Shall I buy one ? What model do I prefer ?  The internet was not as crowded as it is nowadays but my search revealed a number of interesting cars. I settled to look for a coupé, since my budget for a first classic car had to remain realistic. Soon I found a few offers, but all some distance away. Two trips to Italy were planned, to view cars in Bergamo, Verona, Modena and Maranello. None could convince me. Either too much rust, too much effort made to hide rust, poor paintjobs, rattling timing chains, smoky engines,…. Worthwhile trips to learn more about the potential weaknesses.

I was in no hurry but suddenly came across a Rosso Corsa 2400 coupé in the United Kingdom that spoke the right words to me. The fact it was in the UK didn’t bother me : I was working for an English company and drove by the place of the trader at least five times a year. An appointment was made on my way back from a meeting and Dino and I had our first encounter. There she stood, between German steel and English oil barrels. Livening up the showroom with her Italian grace. Originally delivered in Cagliari and subsequent chapters in Rome and the UK. The Rosso Corsa colour was not original, nor was the beige leather interior. But she sounded good, no visible rust, just a few wear marks. And some paint blistering that was a consequence of covering the car with a wet blanket in the sun. The seller promised to tackle the paint blisters and that was it. Yep – you’re coming home with me baby.

On my way back to Dover, I felt like I needed a second opinion. My route went practically past Mark Devany’s workshop in Tunbridge Wells so I decided to drive by and ask his opinion. And no surprise, he knew the customer well enough, had been working on the car and spoke the sacred words : yes, she’s a good car. Buy it.

One month later I got confirmation that the car had a fresh coat of paint and could be picked up. I loaded it on a trailer and drove home in pouring rain. The car saw more rain on that trip than she had ever seen in her entire life.

In the next couple of days I must have spent more time in the garage, contemplating that pure beauty, than in my living room. After my emotional balance restored, I set about registering her and preparing her for a happy life together.

And what a happy life it has been so far. Next to the pure joy of driving her, working under the hood, going on various trips, she offers the incremental joy of being a people magnet. Is that a Fiat ? Yes sir. One thing’s for sure : if you want to easily bond with people, buy a Dino. Or a dog. But I prefer the Dino.

The first fellow-Dinoisti I met were Dirk and Giovanni. They learnt me so much about our common cars, we did a few local trips together and made plans for more. That’s how we discovered that Dino Club Italia organized an event in Alba, in June 2016, to celebrate the 50^th birthday of the launch of the Dino line. Of course we had to go there. By road, not on a trailer. Trailering was for sissies. We asked 3 other Belgian owners to join us on the journey to Alba, and halfway the trip a number of Dutch owners joined the party.

What an impressive cavalry we formed along the way to Alba. A travelling orchestra of dozens of cylinders spreading their glorious hymns through France, Switzerland and Piemonte. On top of that, the programme of the event was mouth-watering, with a roundtrip through the Piemontese winehills, an encounter with Aldo Brovarone and Paolo Martin, and most of all, a visit to Leonardo Fioravanti’s private studio. Unforgettable. Still I can’t praise Walter and Lincoln enough for the quality of this event.

In 2017 I joined a group of classic car enthusiasts for a Mille Miglia trip. We followed parts of the roadbook between Brescia and Rome and mingled with the competitors on the roads that were accessible for non-competitors. Thousands of tifosi lining up along both sides of the roads awaited the arrival of those heroic cars. My colleagues in their MG’s, Mercedesses or Porsches drove by without any reaction from the public. But when the Dino appeared in sight, we were welcomed with waves of enthusiasm. Guarda, guarda, una Dino!! Auguri!! Grazie!! How a Dino can make you feel very special.

The following year I was invited to participate in a high level Belgian concours d’élégance for various types of cars. As expected we didn’t win a prize but being invited to present the car before judges and a public is an incredible reward in itself. Dino had its well-deserved moment of glamour.

And what about schoolboy Filip, you will ask. Well. In the autumn of 2017 I met with the curator of the Autoworld museum in Brussels who was in the process of developing his program of temporary exhibitions for the next year. A few beers later I suggested to create an expo dedicated to Dino. I rang every enthusiast I knew, resulting in at least 20 owners committing to lend their car for the exhibit. Some surprising beauties came up : the ex- Le Mans Dino Spider, the ex-Eric Clapton Dino 206GT, etcetera.

The exhibition was opened with a cocktail on the Friday evening. Anyone interested was invited, especially the owners who let us use their cars, and many responded positively. Guess who also turned up? Right. Schoolboy Filip. He joined a friend who had given us his 2000 Spider on loan. Many stories of days gone by filled the room. The apple green Dino that once sparked my interest was sold long ago. But Filip had been driving many Dino’s after that and the soft spot remained.

The last trip Dino and we undertook was the Dino Club Italia event in Modena in 2022. Again, the machine fulfilled its duties wonderfully. High speed motorway driving? No problem. A mountain pass? Pure music and muscle. Those two words summarize the essence of the Dino. Plus pure beauty.

We would have liked to also join the trips in Silvaplana with the Dino. In 2023 it wasn’t ready for the trip since we had an oil leak issue. I participated with my friends’ Spider but we broke down. In 2024 our professional lives took priority over entertainment. But we’ll be back.

Owning a Dino is not like owning any other car. You give proof of having a special taste and a deeper background, you give expression to your fascination and demonstrate how unique you are. Remembering how I perceived Dino drivers back when I was a child, I think I realized at least one of my life goals.  Except for the suggested playboy-overtone.

A thing of beauty is a joy forever.