Armed with a vintage-style camera to document what the vintage-style car would get up to, we immediately found that it’s damn near impossible to be unhappy in the Three Wheeler. Its little face, burbly noise, and, well, interesting handling characteristics make it hilarious at any speed. In the dry it enjoys understeering, in the wet it’ll lose traction and make you look like Chris Harris at 6 mph. Once you’ve figured out the quirks it’s one of the most joyous cars you’ll ever drive. Despite looking like a bathtub with a face, it’s surprisingly comfy, too, thanks to soft suspension. You can cruise in it without getting a numb arse.
Cars like the Three Wheeler aren’t about comfort, or even dynamic brilliance (the newer Super 3 is much better at being a car though). They’re about FUN. Not just fun for the occupants, but for everyone who sees it. Hurling ourselves along the roads between Lisbon and Sintra, even in the wet, people craned their necks to see what was going on. Who are these people? What are they driving? Why are they driving it? How is it not full of water? The love for it means people let you out of junctions to have a better look, or just gawp and whip out their phones to take pictures. Not only was it bringing us joy, but other people as well. And, unlike in the UK where it’s not unheard of to have people swing in front of you at speed so passengers can get a better look, people were broadly respectful and safe while taking pictures on the highway.
When the weather was good the car was pretty much perfect. Sun shining, engine noise bouncing off the trees, an ally at your side, there’s a calming energy to it all despite the cacophony. The din fades in your ears, the world itself opens up, troubles are forgotten, and, even for a moment, you’re in the happiest of happy places. I’d say it was like floating, but then a pothole jars one of the three wheels and you snap out of it. Like dropping your toast on the floor, or when you realize you’ve made a tiny error at work. This too shall, or should, pass.