For Sale: 1997 Honda CRX in Katwijk, Netherlands

In the '90s, Honda had something most manufacturers only dared to claim in their brochures: the courage to build exactly what the engineers found fun, and to quietly skip consulting the rest of the boardroom. These were the years of the VTEC, of engines that only truly woke up at 8,000 rpm, of a brand that won Formula 1 on Sunday afternoon and sold a Civic on Monday morning to the lady next door who never had to lift a finger for it. Reliability and fun in one package, back then that was almost a contradiction. Not at Honda. And then there was the CRX del Sol. Officially the successor to the ordinary CRX, in practice a creature entirely its own. Two seats, a Targa roof you lift out of the whole by hand and stow in the boot, and a silhouette that still looks as though it was penned last week. Some people found it too sweet to count as a sports car. Those same people have never driven a del Sol with the roof off along a winding country lane on a spring evening in May, so their opinion is hereby declared null and void. The ESi on offer here comes with the 1.6 sixteen-valve, good for 125 bhp. No VTEC howler to rattle your kidneys loose, but exactly enough to press on nicely without risking your licence every time. Manual, of course. A del Sol with an automatic is like an espresso with a splash of water added: technically still coffee, but why on earth would you. What makes this car so special is not so much the car itself, but the file beneath it. This CRX was delivered in March 1997 by Autohaus Thelen in Neu-Isenburg, tidily near Frankfurt, to a certain Herr Setzer. And from that moment on there was evidently someone who treated this thing like a member of the family. I have been through the service book and it is a joy to read. Delivery inspection in '97. Major service in '98, in 2000, in 2004. Interim maintenance, valve clearances, fuel filter, coolant, spark plugs, brake fluid. All neatly stamped at Honda dealers in and around Frankfurt. Mechanics' names included, Weber noting down the test drive, the lot. And then the detail that gladdens every interested party: the Steuerriemen, the timing belt, was replaced in June 2002. On a Honda from this period that is precisely the checklist you look for, and here it is in black and white in the booklet. This is not a car that sat in a barn for twenty years where the mice regarded the wiring as lunch. This is a car that went to the doctor preventively for decades. The colour is Voque Silver metallic, a shade that lets the shape speak beautifully without shouting. Inside, leather upholstery, air conditioning that according to the book received a service in 2006 ("auch Klima Wartung gemacht", someone noted with German thoroughness), ABS, an immobiliser with that famous red code key you really must not lose, and the spare wheel with tool kit neatly in its place. A time capsule from an era when Honda was still simply Honda. I should say honestly: this is by now a rare sight on British roads. Most del Sols have fallen somewhere between 2005 and today to tuning drift, badly parked vans or the scrapyard. An example with a complete German service book from delivery is almost an archaeological find. This car comes from a time when a sports coupe was still allowed to be fun without a screen the size of a pizza base in the dashboard. Driving it as it was meant to be, with a roof you lift out at the first ray of sun and an engine that asks to be involved. No electronics arranging everything for you, no four driving modes, just you, three pedals and a gear lever. Precisely the reason people like you and me still look at cars of this sort with that faint tingle of recognition. Anyone after a Japanese piece of history you can use without worry and drive open on summer evenings should take a proper look at this one. Take the roof off, turn into the summer, and let the rest of the roundabout puzzle over what that peculiar little silver coupe actually is. **Special features** - Honda CRX del Sol 1.6 ESi