I went round to a wet windy Coventry house to see a 21 Turbo. I had an idea that the car was a little poorly, but was being worked on. I never had it in my mind that it wouldn’t have four matching alloys, or even a bonnet. The moss growing on top was looked at as a bonus. Think of it like a nice warm blanket. I saw through the moss, and lack of bonnet, and saw a very strong shell – minimal rust, which is a rarity in a 17-year-old French car.

My fascination with Renault started when I was 9 or 10, with my father being a serial 21 owner, not the coveted turbo model, but GTS, and GTX models. Eventually, when I passed my test, I was passed a Renault 21 set of keys. That’s where the love started...

The car I went to view was a phase 2 car, but engineless. I had a choice of phase 1, phase 2, or phase 3 engines. The owner at the time recommended a cat-less phase 3, with distributor conversion (from coil packs) to gain the increased torque of the later version, and the hp of the earlier versions. Sounded good from where I was standing.

3 long months, and a lot of tweaks, later and the car was mine. A phase 2 car with phase 1 alloys, running phase 1 hydraulics, on a phase 3 engine. Also the car had a mild boost tweak to 18 psi, a straight through exhaust and a piperX air filter. A bit quicker than my company Audi A4...

The first drive back was gifted to my wife, who commented, “it’s a bit bigger than my Yaris, and it’s quite fast”.

On the way home the indicator failed to work, so I used the tried and test technique of brute force and ignorance to fix it. The result was a broken indicator, and a phone call went in to Dave, the chap who sold me the car. Incidentally he owns approximately half of all 21 Turbo spares ever made. A new (read old) light was winging its way to me that day, and fitted with the help of some silicon sealant. Nothing on a 17-year-old 21 Turbo hasn’t broken and been bodged. The hinges to keep the lights on are no exception.

Several other problems manifested themselves within a month of buying it, including a dodgy alternator light that shorted the circuit and drain the battery, and a snapped water pump belt. To the seller’s credit, they were all fixed, and we are now firmest of friends.

My first spirited drive uncovered a few of the 21 Turbo’s characteristics: lag, and lots of it; brakes that don’t work, then send you through the front window and a rear end that likes lift-off over steer.

It basically works a little like this: if you see the gap, the turbo will spool, and you’ll miss the space. You have to read the road, keep the car at a reasonable 3000rpm, and boot it on sight of a gap. Point and squirt on the throttle French style.

Twisties didn’t present a problem for the car. This was a major factor that I was worried about. I had just sold an almost mint phase 1 5GT Turbo and was missing its go-kart like handling. I needn’t have worried. The lowered suspension soaked up the bumps and comedy body roll was nonexistent. The similarity of rear-end tail wagging to the 5 was uncanny.

Discs all around help the 21 turbo stop–mine had been upgraded to grooved and drilled front discs and braided hoses. Repeated hard stops cause fade. I’ll have to investigate some better pads. Mixed reports from other 21 Turbo owners make this a potential minefield.

The main thing I discovered about the 21 Turbo was its street sleeper status. No one suspects a tungsten grey 17-year-old Renault as a performance car. The Subaru driver who fell victim didn’t.

I have just done the car’s first service, a month late admittedly. When changing the oil I needed a large spoon to scoop the oil out [why? Is this a feature? –ed]. It was a fraction thick and gloopy. 6.5 litres later of 10w50 oil and a new filter and it all was done.

I plan on taking a trip around Ladybower and Snake Pass soon, I’ll report on those as and when ...