SAMMY JUMBO

After the blog about my Euroweenie 106 XR was released, thousands of American car buffs e-mailed me asking for more information - although none showed any interest in actually buying the car. So, here goes, and I’ll try not to lose the rest of my readers by getting too technical.

I’ll start with the engine. Yes, it’s got one, although I haven’t yet found it, but something’s burning gas, unless there’s a leak in the tank. There’s no radio because that drains too much power from the aforementioned engine, particularly if you’re going up a slope while playing anything by Abba. There is no rev counter because Peugeot wanted to hide the fact that the Euroweenie motor idles at 5,000RPM, but there is a large clock so it’s easy to gauge acceleration. After exhaustive tests I can assure you the Euroweenie 106 XR zooms from 0-60MPH between 3:00-3:25PM.

Next, wheels and steering. The Euroweenie’s wheels are roughly the size and thickness of an Oreo cookie. And probably about as sturdy. The tires are so narrow there’s no space for treads, just one wiggly line down the middle looking a bit as if it were drawn by a one-eyed ten-year-old boy with hiccups and a magic marker. They might also be solid rubber – or cookie dough.

The steering is a marvel of Belgian engineering and a credit to a nation of fine lace-makers. The steering-wheel is firmly connected to the front wheels by four rubber bands: two thin, two thick, one of each per wheel. Turning the steering wheel from rest is easy because the thin rubber bands stretch. Then at speeds over 40 KPH (about 150 MPH) the thick bands take over and you drive with the sudden understanding that although fine control of the vehicle is a bit elusive, life is truly precious. It usually helps that no other car on the road will come within 5 kilometers (175 feet) of a moving Euroweenie 106 XR.

The Euroweenie has power-windows, one per side because it is a two-door sporty vehicle, but they’re each powered by six AA Duracell batteries stuffed in holes in the door arm-rests and don’t last long. Four ups, three downs and you’re about out of juice, and these Euroweenie windows neatly disprove the old adage that what goes up must come down.

The locking gas tank can only be opened with a pair of pliers because the key is broken and there’s a mere stalk left - or maybe it came that way to deter theft and encourage frugality. The gas tank shows half-full while going uphill and nearly empty going downhill, so when I’m low on fuel I try to drive uphill as much as possible. At least I did until someone pointed out that the little engine uses more gas going uphill than down, so it all works out about the same.

And gas is expensive. A liter of gas costs about ninety euros and in warm weather there are approximately twenty five liters to an American gallon. For easy reckoning, twenty dollars equals about a euro and a half and the dollar is pegged directly to the day’s temperature in Celsius.

The Euroweenie runs on unleaded, in Portuguese charmingly called sem chumbo, which to my cultured American ear sounds an awful lot like Sammy Jumbo.

The Euroweenie 106 XR has a five-speed gearbox - automatic transmission being unknown in Portugal. But not all gears are connected to the engine. First gear is because you’ve got to get going somehow, and usually second gear is too so the engine isn’t screaming its valves off after a few minutes. The other gears are only incidentally linked to the engine. They’re cleverly routed through something quite unique. The Portuguese name for it is beyond me to translate, let alone pronounce, but the nearest thing in American would be revverizer.

The revverizer makes all the appropriate sounds as you shift through the gears, BUT none of this in any way affects the speed of the car. You can flash up and down the gearbox like a really good race-car driver, right hand a blur, little legs pumping madly away at the pedals as you look serious leaning hard into the curves, and all the while creating just wonderful sounds. But it’s all quite safe because you’re only doing 50KPH (12MPH) and saving sem chumbo like a sem champ.

And while we’re discussing driving, let me mention European drivers. Now in America we’ve got acres of land, millions of cars and lots of Mafia-owned concrete companies, so our highways are really wide with dozens of lanes. As all Americans are created equal they have an equal right to drive in any damn lane they want and at any damn speed they like. Not so over here. The lane(s)on the left are for folks driving faster than you and it’s best to stay out of them. Otherwise you’re likely to get a honking great Mercedes so far up your tail its fancy hood ornament will leave a permanent impression on the back of your neck.

Portuguese cars also have this amazing little device that really should be standard on all cars, particularly American ones, and everyone here uses them. A short stick pokes sideways out of the steering column and as you’re about to make a turn, you push it up for right or down for left, and blinking lights on the outside of the car tell other drivers which way you’re going. It’s a safe and considerate signal for fellow motorists and someone has to bring it to the States. They’d make a fortune, surely.

And then there are roundabouts, or rotundas as the Portuguese call them. We, of course, know them as traffic circles and they scare us witless. But they’re actually much better than the American eight-way stop intersections where you’re supposed to let the guy on the right go first, but your car’s nicer than his and you’re in a rush and pretend you lost count as you wave an apology and miss him by a millimeter - that’s almost six inches. Stop signs stop traffic while rotundas keep everything moving.

We Americans are rightly terrified of rotundas, but they’re very easy to use if you just follow the Portuguese method of entry. When approaching one, slow down, look to your left and then accelerate, regardless of traffic, unless it’s a gigantic semi loaded with abacaxis - pineapples - just showing off my Portuguese vocabulary. Once in pole position, if you miss your turn keep going around and around, accelerating all the while, just as if it was your very own miniature NASCAR race-track, and then use your accumulated speed to slingshot away down the right exit before you get dizzy and throw up. Space shuttle pilots exiting the atmosphere, whirling Dervishes getting closer to God and professional skaters screwing themselves into the ice have no difficulty with this manouevre -- and neither will you with practice.