All in all, it’s a proper fettling. And it
works. The steering is remarkable proof of the ability of small incremental
changes to transform something: it’s familiar from the standard 3-series yet
somehow far better. It’s slightly lighter than on the basic car, but reactions
are more positive and there’s a vastly better sense filtering through the
electric power steering of what the front wheels are doing.
Classic
19in Alpina alloys feature; some love them, some hate them – but everyone
agrees they take ages to clean
It’s when you increase your pace that
things get really interesting. The engine is definitely a diesel, and if you’re
an avowed enemy of compression ignition then it’s never going to win you over.
But it’s a very, very good diesel, with a broad powerband, almost instantaneous
responses and a sense of unstoppability. TheD3 is all about torque, seeming to
pull pretty much as strongly at 2,000rpm as it does at 4,000rpm. And as the
reprogrammed gearbox software resists kicking down when left in Drive unless it
really has to, you can find yourself attempting overtakes with the car still in
sixth or seventh gear, the level of acceleration barely less than it would be
if you were a couple of ratios lower.
In fact, revving the engine out to the
4,800rpm red line, where the gearbox will change up no matter which mode it’s
in, actually feels pretty counter-intuitive. Using the manual gearbox mode also
means dealing with the slightly odd buttons that Alpina sews into the back of
the steering wheel – there’s none of those fashionable paddles here. Let’s just
call the buttons an acquired taste.
The
Alpina name is moulded into the front bumper with no additional colouring; gold
or silver inlays are optional
The most impressive thing about the chassis
is the way it deals with the sheer quantity of torque owing through the rear
axle. You’re always aware of its presence: on even gentle throttle applications
you can feel the car’s rear twitching despite the protection of the stability
control. In corners the yellow light ashes before anything more dramatic
happens, but switching the DSC into its more permissive Sport Plus mode allows
a modest degree of slip and certainly makes the D3 an amusing challenge to
hustle down a damp road. Turning it off altogether makes the D3 properly slidey
– find a wide, empty corner and it proves itself a tyre-smoking hooligan,
although it takes a while to get used to the low engine speeds at which the
torque overwhelms the available grip. Our test car came with the optional
limited-slip diff, which is probably a decent investment if you’re planning to
drive it hard or take it on track.
Subtle
tail-lip spoiler isn't just for aestetics; it almost cancels lift
Performance diesels often fall down because
they try too hard with narrow power bands and horrible-sounding over-boosted
engines to do something that just doesn’t suit them. The D3’s big appeal is
just how effortless it makes everything feel. You would be very hard pressed to
think of another car that manages to cover quite so many bases.
This leaves the big question – fuel
economy. Alpina claims an official figure of 53.3mpg for theD3 saloon. We
couldn’t get close to that, but after 600 hard miles, including performance
testing and repeated cornering shots, the trip computer reported 36.5mpg:
realistically the worst you’d see anywhere short of Autobahn use. It’s a
diesel, but it’s also rather brilliant.
