Three Classic Skodas
by David Finlay (30 December 2010)
422 (1930)
I am very slowly building up my experience of driving cars from the 1930s - so slowly, in fact, that it has taken longer than the 1930s lasted for me to bring the total up to three. The first was a Ford Model A, the second a Vauxhall H-Type 10hp, and I loved them both, but I think the Skoda 422 is my favourite.
That may partly be because Skoda UK's example of the 422 is in such spectacular condition that, on this evidence alone, it looks as if it might have been built yesterday rather than 70 years ago. However, it may also be because in those days Skoda was what we would now call a premium brand, and the 422 seems to be in a different class from the more mainstream Ford and Vauxhall.
Not that it's any less awkward to drive. The first two things you have to bear in mind about this are that the brake pedal is on the right and the accelerator is in the middle (you wouldn't want to get mixed up about this) and reverse gear is where you expect first to be on the H-pattern gate, with second and third gears in the positions now regarded as being the homes of third and fourth respectively. Adding to the difficulty is the fact that the driving position is very cramped, and not really suitable for a six-foot-three person like myself (though oddly enough there is plenty of room for me to sit in the back).
The gearbox has no synchromesh, so as well as having to remember where the ratios are you have to be very careful to match engine speed to road speed, otherwise each change is going to be accompanied by a loud metallic graunching sound. Actually, the gear issues are less of a problem than they might be, because although the maximum power is feeble by modern standards, most of it is already being produced when the engine is running at only slightly more than tickover, so once you've reached top gear you can pretty much stay there no matter how slowly you may go subsequently.
This is not, of course, a fast car. I didn't push it at all hard, being very conscious of not wanting to damage something so old and precious, and I don't think I went much over 25mph. Well, that's okay. For a start, the brakes are so weak that applying them fully has about the same effect as an unfavourable change in wind direction. Furthermore, the 422 is so tall and narrow, its steering so wayward and all its mechanical processes so obvious, that even at 25mph you have plenty to think about. From 30mph onwards I imagine it can all get a bit fretful. Better, I reckon, to make more relaxed progress and enjoy the ride.
It's not the sort of thing you'd want to use for commuting on a daily basis, but the 422 is a charming car, and I want one.
Felicia Cabriolet (1963)
No, this has nothing to do with the Felicia that was produced between 1994 and 2001, but well done for making the connection. This one is the first Felicia, from an altogether different generation. It's a 1950s design, and when this late example was built in 1963 it must surely have been starting to look rather old-fashioned, though from a 21st-century perspective that hardly matters.
Of course it's a great deal more advanced than the 422, though this particular car is not in quite such good condition. Something has gone wrong with the driver's seat back mechanism and it won't adjust, so to drive it I either have to sit up with almost no back support (painful) or more or less lie down (impossible - I'm out of control).
We're back in the world of modern pedal and gear layouts here, which makes life a lot easier, but the steering is still vague, to the point where it's difficult to keep the car in a straight line without appearing to be acting in a 1950s Hollywood film. It's certainly not better than that of the 422 to the extent that the 33-year difference in their ages would suggest.
Modern convertibles feel less structurally secure than the solid-roofed saloons or hatchbacks on which they're based - because they are - but the difference isn't usually too alarming. The Felicia Cabriolet is a different story, and even at gentle speeds I can't help wondering if it's going to fall to bits around me, so I'm not sure I would want to have one in my life.
But look at it, and imagine yourself behind the wheel. Wouldn't you come across as elegant and dashing if you were seen driving it?
1000 MB (1966)
Although the 1000 MB I'm driving is only three years younger than the Felicia Cabriolet discussed above, it's very different. The Felicia, as mentioned, is from the tail end of the production run, whereas this car is one of the earliest of its kind. In between the lives of these models, Skoda took the decision to switch to rear engines, and the 1000 MB is therefore at the start of a line of Skodas which became (more for reasons of desperately low budgets in what was then Czechoslovakia than because of where their engines were located) increasingly disappointing until, in the 1980s, the once proud Skoda name had become merely a punchline to joke after joke after weary joke.
At least the later cars had gearchange patterns - yes, we're back to those again - which made sense. That of the 1000 MB is upside-down, so that first, second, third and fourth gears are where you think fourth, third, second and first should be. Once again, you don't want to make a mess of this, and I have to admit that I was occasionally nervous about releasing the clutch after a shift, half expecting the car to stand on its nose and conrods to come rocketing through the boot lid because I had accidentally selected a gear two lower than the one required. Fortunately, this never happened.
With a relatively sturdy power output of over 40bhp and not much weight to carry, the 1000 MB is in theory the quickest of the three classic Skodas mentioned here, though this one isn't running quite right (possibly because the choke - remember chokes? - isn't working properly). All the same, I'm prepared to take it above 40mph because it feels so much safer than the others. I suppose I would go right on to 70 if I had time to visit a motorway, but that might feel a bit perilous with impatient drivers zipping around in their more capable machinery.
The 1000 MB (those initials stand for Mlada Boleslav, still Skoda's home town today) is nevertheless quite good fun, in the way that classic cars usually are. In one way, though, it's also a cause for sadness, because with hindsight it's possible to see it as the start of Skoda's decline. On the other hand, that same hindsight tells us that the decline was later fully reversed, in a manner that struck me with almost shocking clarity.
The very next car I sat in after the three classics was a 2010 Skoda Superb estate. In comparison, its quality was mesmerising, its technology beyond the wildest possible dreams of anyone who was involved in the design or building of the 422.
How long ago, culturally, was 1930? It depends on which part of the culture you're talking about. In terms of concert music or art it's still relatively recent (works created much earlier than that date are still seen as deeply shocking). In literature or film it's a long time ago. In fashion or technology it's in the age of the dinosaurs, and that's how it is in motoring too.
In the lifetime of a single person, Skoda (among others) has developed its craft to such an extraordinary extent that instead of continuing to build the 422 it now produces the unbelievably faster, roomier, safer, quieter and more economical Superb. If Skoda still exists in 2090, what unimaginable wonders will it be producing then?
