I know I mentioned this before, but I’m now the proud owner of a Citroën 2CV. This is quite literally an automotive dream come true for me; I’ve wanted a 2CV ever since I first saw them in car books from the library as a kid. They had all of the strangeness and charm of the Volkswagen Beetles I loved and was familiar with, but were somehow even weirder, which just made them even more intoxicating to me. And the more I learned about them, the more I wanted one! All the lore of being designed to replace horses and carts for French farmers, the carrying the eggs over the plowed field, the fact you can’t roll one, the astounding austerity and cleverness – I love it, openly, unashamedly.

And now, somehow, I have one sitting right there in my driveway. I still can’t believe it’s real. I’ve gone out and sat in it like half a dozen times already, just obsessing over every strange little wonderful detail, delighting in all of the peculiar decisions that went into making this car what it is. When the 2CV was introduced in 1948, a reviewer for The Autocar was quoted as saying that the 2CV

“is the work of a designer who has kissed the lash of austerity with almost masochistic fervour.”

…and I absolutely love that description. It’s true. This is a car that doesn’t cut corners, it chews those corners off with a wild-eyed, ecstatic glee. You can almost picture how each little detail that made something simpler – the way the hood hinge is just a bit of metal bent into an extruded triangle, or how the windows just flip up or how there’s not really a distributor in the engine – was met with some designer or engineer letting out a ragged, long sigh of pleasure and then lighting up a cigarette.

Oh, and again I should thank our own Stephen Walter Gossin for rescuing this thing and taking care of all the hard stuff – new glass, new roof, lots of wiring, and, perhaps most importantly, sorting out the title – and then dropping it off at my house.

Stephen made this dream real, especially because there really aren’t any 2CVs in this ideal middling state available. Everything out there is either a basket case project made of rust and hopelessness or a completely restored beauty that I can’t afford if I want to remain someone who uses the plural when talking about his kidneys. SWG got this fixed up just enough that it can be a fantastic, usable, daily driver. By no means perfect, but perfect’s never been something I’ve found that interesting. I mean, look at me up there.

As an aside, I’ve also kind of wanted a Citroën because Citroën is the only major automaker that was founded by someone Jewish, Andre Citroën. As a Jew who has spent his whole life obsessed with VW Beetles, a car with a, let’s say, checkered family history when it comes to getting along with my people, it just seemed right that I should have a Citroën in my stable to, you know, maybe bring some balance.

This 2CV I now own has the big engine, a 602cc air-cooled flat-twin beast. That makes it the smallest-displacement combustion engine I’ve ever owned in a car, beating out my Pao’s 987cc inline-four. This got me thinking about engines and horsepower, as the 29 horsepower the 2CV makes is, I believe, the second-lowest hp car I’ve ever had.

I decided to make a little chart to see how it stacks up against every other daily-driver car (meaning that these were cars that I used, for at least some decent period of time, as my primary transportation). Incredibly, I’ve never quite reached that stratospheric 150 hp level:

Wow! It looks like the most power I’ve had at the tip of my right foot has been around 145 hp, a figure tied between my old Scimitar and my F-150. The Scimitar was much faster, though. The Volvo 1800S was fun to drive, too, and I think my ’73 Beetle, when I upgraded to a twin-carb engine, was pretty quick, too. The Yugo also, was a beast with 87 hp! And of course, the Changli is at the bottom, with a horse-and-a-horse-fetus 1.1 hp.

But 29! That’s going to be fun to wring out! I’m told a 2CV with this engine should be able to hit 71, flat out. My Pao can hold 70-75 on the highway without much trouble, but that is still about 20-something more horsepower, and with a fifth gear. The 2CV’s fourth gear is an overdrive, though, and if it can hold 60-65, I’ll be happy. I can do the occasional highway with that! But I’ll likely prefer to keep this on back roads.

Okay, now for the harsh reality. The 2CV doesn’t quite run just yet, but I’m confident it will soon. So, here are all the things wrong with it I need to sort out.

What’s Wrong

The Fuel Pump

It’s down there, just above that yellow wire nut. It doesn’t suck, which in this case is a problem. They’re $40 and two bolts, pretty much, and that’s the first thing I’ll do. It should start after that? I hope?

The Driver’s Seat

The rubber bands that support the driver’s seat seem worn out, and as a result, I sink down into the seat a bit too much, which, for a short homunculus like myself, is a problem. I think I can fix that. Also, I need to get these seat covers off and clean them, especially getting out all the broken glass – and at least one dime – from the crevices.

A Bit Of Rust Here And There

There is some rust, but overall, it’s not that bad. The hood “hinge” has a good bit, there’s one Kraft Single-sized patch under the mat on the driver’s floor, and really, other than some little bits here and there, it’s not bad at all. All of the crucial chassis bits are quite rust-free, so I think I can take care of these little rust colonies before they spread.

The Fuel Gauge Doesn’t Seem To Work

The earliest 2CVs just had a stick, so maybe I shouldn’t complain. I think it’s just the sender in the tank, which drops out with four bolts. Should be easy enough to fix.

The Headlight Aiming Adjuster Needs Fixing

There’s a knob under the dash to adjust how high or low the headlights aim, so if you have, say, a large meteor in the trunk or a full grown rhino in the back seat, you can make sure your lights don’t just light up the undersides of aircraft. I think it just needs a little clip thing to hold that cable in place.

The Wiring Needs Tidying Up

Stephen got most of the wiring sorted out, but I’d like to just make sure everything is where it needs to be and bundle up that mass of wires. There are only about 18 wires in the whole car, but it sure looks like more under here.

The Dome Light Is Pretty Janky

It’s very much an afterthought, no matter what – just something some Citroën engineer found in the first eight pages of a parts catalog and stuck on there. I can likely get a replacement one cheap.

One Headlight Must Have Gotten Water In It

I need to clean out this headlight really well and see where it may have had a leak. Also, likely new bulbs for both lights, which have full headlight bulbs and small “town light” bulbs, like on my Pao. Also, I’m going to get rid of those headlight visors, because I’m just not crazy about the look.

A Broken Taillight!

Oh no! There’s a broken taillight! The good news is, I already have a replacement! Which means I can hang the cracked one by my desk, where I can readily contemplate its beauty.

I Need To Put The Fan Assembly Back On After I Make Sure The Points Are Good

I have the fan and all related parts; the sorta-distributor is in here, behind that leathern sheet, where it fires both plugs at once, every time, because why not? Sparks are cheap. So I need to get that back together after I confirm I’m getting good spark.

Okay, I think that’s all the wrongs; what’s right?

I Need To Get Bolts To Install Those Side Panels

See those gaps under the hood and over the fenders? I have the panels that fit there, but I think I need a few more bolts. That should be easy enough.

What’s Right

It’s a 2CV!

It’s motherflapping 2CV! A Deux Cheveaux! A car I’ve wanted forever! That’s what’s right about this thing.

Really, There’s Hardly Any Bad Rust

Look in the spare tire well here, normally a bad rust trap. It’s pretty damn clean! As is most of the car. It’s not rust free, but who amongst us is? It’s very solid, overall.

The Bullet Hole

A bullet hole in a car just makes it look tougher. And, I checked, it missed the fuel filler pipe.

These Little Window Clips Are So Clever And Simple

When you flip up the windows, a little peg pops into that hole, pushing aside that spring-loaded rod. Pushing that little lever on top releases it. It’s so clever, I want to spit red wine.

The Fresh Air Vent Flap

A knob opens up this flap under the windshield. You could peek through it to drive if you had to, like, say, if you replaced your windshield with a nicely-sanded piece of plywood.

I Love The Ridiculous Dash And All The Strange Controls

That’s the headlight stalk; it has an O, a V (ville, town), and an R (route or rural or something, for main headlights). You push it for the horn. The turn signals don’t even have an on-dash blinky light, because what are you, a king? I love the moped-like speedo, the strange little push buttons, the crazy shifter, everything. I can’t explain or justify it, I just do.

The Windshield Washer Is A Squirt Gun, Basically

You know how much I love the VW Beetle’s use of spare tire air pressure to drive the windshield washer? Well, the 2CV has a system that’s about as basic and clever: the washer works by pumping, with your finger, a little plunger on the dash. Basically, a squirt gun. Who needs some fancy-ass electric pump when you have perfectly good working fingers? It’s fantastic.

I’m just thrilled I finally have one of these in my life. I can’t wait to get it going and sorted and just drive the the merde out of this thing. I think it’ll be a blast!

Stay tuned for more, lots more.