Alfa Romeo GTV 6 2,5

Alfa Romeo GTV6 2.5
The Alfa GTV6, along with the Alfa 75, could be described as the ultimate evolution of the "Alfetta" concept, known as the Type 116. Its roots trace back to 1972 with the launch of the Alfa Romeo Alfetta Berlina—initially as a 1.8, later a 1.6, and finally the 2.0 QO (Quadrifoglio Oro) version. All these factory models had to make do with the all-aluminum four-cylinder engine, a design dating back to the 1950s known as the "bialbero" or twin-cam.
The coupé version, designated the Alfetta GT, arrived with a slight delay in 1974, also equipped with the 1.8-liter (1779 cc) engine. As the engine range for the Berlina evolved, the 1.8 displacement was phased out; the Alfetta GT was then offered with a smaller 1.6-liter engine, alongside the introduction of the GTV version with a 2.0-liter unit producing 96 kW. The GTV was distinguished by two chrome slats in the grille and "GTV" lettering on the C-pillar air vents.
The pinnacle was a limited series called the Alfetta GTV Turbodelta, featuring a 2.0-liter engine bolstered by a turbocharger. Output climbed to 175 hp, and the top speed broke the 200 km/h barrier. These cars featured matte black hoods, colored side stripes, and Autodelta badges. Only 400 units were produced to satisfy racing homologation requirements.
A major modernization took place in 1980. This wasn't just a simple facelift, but a comprehensive redesign of both the exterior and interior. To support this new direction, the "Alfetta" name was dropped, and the car was simply rebranded as the GT. The base 1.6 engine was discontinued, leaving only the 2.0-liter version available.
As is often the case, modernization was a double-edged sword. Objectively, the car matured, and build quality improved significantly. This was most noticeable in the interior, where the highly original dashboard—which featured a standalone tachometer directly in the driver's line of sight, like a race car, while the speedometer and other gauges were relegated to the center—was replaced. But honestly, the original quality had been desperate; it's interesting to see the decline when compared to the 105/115 series. Sitting in a 1972 Giulia and then stepping into a 1978 Alfetta GT feels like moving backward in time. The update brought better upholstery, seats, door panels, and a unified dashboard where all the gauges were grouped together. The angular 1980s in all their glory. It must be said, however, that even after 45 years, that dashboard doesn't creak, crack, or warp.
From my perspective, the exterior lost a bit of its elegance; there was less chrome and more plastic. The original taillights were merged into large "YTONG-like" blocks. The front bumper became quite massive, plastic side skirts were added, along with various other details. When you stand an early Alfetta GT next to the GTV6 we're testing, it sometimes feels like you're looking at two different cars. What undeniably improved the look, though, were the original 15-inch "campagnolo" wheels, often called "manhole covers." They are beautiful, light, and look stunning in the two-tone finish with black centers.
But enough about history and four-cylinders; we are here for a different reason today. Alfa had something on the shelf that definitely wasn't meant to stay there. A true gem that still makes many of us hold our breath when we turn the ignition key: the 60-degree all-aluminum 2.5-liter V6. We'll dive into the engine designed by Giuseppe Busso in a separate article, but today we'll focus on its very first displacement variant. This engine, which debuted in 1979 in the Alfa 6—a car I find hard to grasp and one that history truly swallowed—remained in production in various evolutions until December 31, 2005. That's 26 years! Show me an engine today that a manufacturer would cherish for a quarter of a century. And now, 20 years after production ended, it lives a second life in the hearts of us collectors and enthusiasts...
he Alfa 6 was not exactly the most fortunate choice for the debut of this engine, a fact I believe even those at Alfa realized. In that controversial flagship, the engine was paired with six (!) DellOrto carburetors—not exactly a match made in heaven. Syncing them was a full day's labor, and we all know the stories of Roman taxi drivers complaining bitterly that driving the car in the city was pure punishment.
Moving to Bosch L-Jetronic fuel injection was, therefore, an undeniable step forward. I often wonder, though, how the engine would behave with, say, three DellOrto DRLA carburetors? We all know the symphony that exits the exhaust pipe, but the sound of a V6 through six chrome velocity stacks would likely give one goosebumps. But enough dreaming.
Today, we aren't driving a run-of-the-mill GTV6; for this test, we've taken the Grand Prix version. It's worth noting that quite a few special editions were created for various global markets, usually differing in aesthetic touches, interior trim, wheels, or decals. Our Grand Prix was a 200-unit limited run for the German market, celebrating Alfa Romeo's success in Formula 1. The car features a lowered chassis and was fitted with wider 225/50 R15 tires instead of the standard 195s. Fog lights were added to the front bumper, and the rear is adorned with an original "Grand Prix" badge in the same font and style as the GTV6 2.5 lettering. It's debatable whether such wide tires improved steering feel, but bringing the car closer to the asphalt, stiffening the suspension, and adding wider rubber certainly enhanced cornering confidence and high-speed stability.
More changes occurred inside, where a custom leather-wrapped center console was created, supplemented by oil and air temperature gauges. The cassette tape storage compartments act as a fascinating relic of the era. But watch your thumb! The space between the handbrake button and the edge of the center console is like a medieval crushing tool. In 1984, the interior was modernized, giving birth to some of the most magnificent seats you could ever own. The fabric is incredibly pleasant and high-quality; even after decades, it shows no sign of damage, wear, or fraying seams. And the originality of the mesh-insert headrests speaks for itself. The same fabric was used for the door panels. The interior quality is truly impressive—the upper door trim is soft and pleasant to the touch, and the carpets are thick and premium. Just compare this to today's production, and you'll immediately see what cost-cutting looks like in practice. While the Grand Prix version originally came with a specific leather-wrapped three-spoke steering wheel, our example features the traditional GTV6 wooden-rimmed wheel. A charming detail is the gear knob emblazoned with the "Grand Prix" inscription.

The car is designed as a 2+2; children up to 12 years old can fit reasonably well in the back, but I certainly wouldn't want to seat an adult passenger there. On the other hand, the wide-access trunk is a pleasant surprise. Due to the layout and specificity of the rear axle, the fuel tank is located behind the rear seatbacks.
But let's be honest: no one bought a GTV6 then, or buys one now, for its practical trunk or pleasant seat fabric. The essence lies in the driving experience and the car's charisma. Most people likely recall the scene from the James Bond film Octopussy, where Roger Moore steals a grey GTV6 from a woman at a phone booth.
It's perhaps the tiny details that a regular driver might overlook, but even the sound of the doors closing is specific—no tinny bang, they just click shut with a certain sense of purpose. The driving position is set very low but is fundamentally comfortable; looking over the dashboard at the hood bulge hiding the V6 gives you the sensation of piloting a larger car. Turn the key, the fuel pump buzzes, and after a brief crank, the engine fires up—idling a bit roughly at first before settling into a beautiful, steady hum. Anyone expecting a modern "get in and go" experience will be disappointed. This is old school. While the 105/115 series excelled in buttery-smooth gear changes due to the gearbox placement and short-throw lever, the linkage here—not the gearbox itself—is the project's greatest weakness. The rod from your right hand travels under the car all the way to the rear axle. It's a long and indirect journey. Consequently, the first few miles might be a letdown as your attention is consumed by the struggle to find gears rather than the engine. But it takes practice. The key is not to force it; first "feel out" the gear with a gentle wrist movement, then slot it in. It creates a delay, but once you master it, it becomes paradoxically fun. The biggest challenge is fishing for 1st or downshifting to 2nd, but the other gears are significantly better. It's worth noting that once the gearbox oil warms up, the situation improves. In a way, given the car's age, this is a good thing—by the time you get used to the rhythm, the engine has had enough time to properly warm its oil. If this engine is sensitive to anything, it's the quality, volume, and temperature of its oil. Scrimp on whatever you want, but never on the oil. Keeping an eye on the pressure and temperature gauges pays off.
Once the car is warm, you begin to truly discover it. You'll find yourself naturally hovering around 4,000 RPM, returning to that part of the rev range again and again. This is where the magic happens and why this engine is so unique. It's the sound—as if every 1,000 RPM represents a different octave, a different character, a different density. First it bubbles, then it bites, then it hums, and finally, it lets out a metallic wail. It's impossible to describe; it must be heard. Perfect from the inside, even better from the outside. And if I may offer a small tip: ask Santa for a twin-exit exhaust from the Italian firm ANSA Marmitte. It will acoustically elevate your GTV6 to the realm usually reserved for the legendary SZ/RZ. And that is worth every penny.
A classic "quirk" of the 116 project was, and still is, significant body roll in the corners. This can scare the uninitiated and prevent them from discovering the true potential of this layout. Even the Alfetta Berlina can take a corner as if on rails, even while you feel like you're about to tip into a ditch. The GTV6 is much faster, and what it allows you to do in the corners had no rival in its day. The perfect balance and weight distribution between the front and rear axles, the reduced unsprung weight at the back, and the relatively light V6 in the nose—combined with a stiffer chassis and wider tires—give driving a 40-year-old car a completely different dimension. This specific car has undergone an engine overhaul. Its first trip to the Mille Miglia shortly after purchase resulted in a very unpleasant memory: at 160 km/h on the Munich highway, the oil temperature suddenly spiked and the engine died. Exactly what you're thinking—a seized crankshaft. Insufficient pressure and lubrication on the crank bearings. Normally, a pressure relief valve ensures that as RPMs rise during spirited driving, the oil pressure doesn't become excessive. If pressure exceeds 4–5 bar, it overcomes a calibrated spring and bypasses some oil back to the pan. It is crucial to adhere to the recommended oil viscosity—ideally a 15W-50 semi-synthetic or mineral, or a full synthetic like Selenia Racing 10W-60. Changing it every 5,000–8,000 km or once a year is essential. High-quality filters with a check valve, such as Purflux, are also recommended to keep oil in the system after the engine is turned off.
Follow a few basic rules, and your engine will thank you. Don't lug the engine; at low RPMs, oil pressure can be lower while cylinder pressure is high. Keep the oil level near the MAX mark, as hard cornering can cause oil starvation in the pan—with consequences you'd much rather avoid.
Warning Signs and Rare Evolutions
What warning signs should you look out for? Be wary of the oil pressure light taking too long to extinguish or the pressure dropping below 1.5 bar on a warm engine. This may indicate excessive bearing clearances, where the oil flows through too quickly, preventing the system from building sufficient lubricating pressure.
For the sake of completeness, it's worth mentioning the 212 units produced with a 3.0-liter engine (2934 cc, 93x72 mm), which were exclusive to South Africa. The reason was a need to compete in local racing against the BMW 535i, which the 2.5-liter version couldn't quite match. This 3.0 version was created from the 2.5 by increasing both bore and stroke (the 2.5 measures 88x68.3 mm). Output was set at 128 kW, and the car was fitted with six DellOrto FRPA 40 carburetors. It is important to note that this was not the same 3.0 engine (2959 cc, 93x72.6 mm) found in the Alfa 75 3.0 or the SZ/RZ. Both engines had different bore and stroke dimensions; the South African version was more "square" and acted as a pioneer for the later 3.0-liter unit we know from the Alfa 75, which debuted in 1987—four years after the South African version.
We should also not overlook rarities like the Dutch Alfa Romeo dealer and tuner Savali (Sam van Lingen), who focused on increasing the displacement and power of the GTV6 and Alfa 75. They are known for versions with 3.3 or 3.5-liter engines, with outputs exceeding 210–230 hp.
While the track successes of the Alfa GTA in the 60s and 70s, or the various iterations of the Alfa 33, are notorious, the sporting achievements of the Alfa GTV6 are often unfairly overlooked. Yet, the GTV6 dominated the European Touring Car Championship (ETCC) for four consecutive seasons between 1982 and 1985, defeating cars like the BMW 635 CSi or the Jaguar XJS with significantly more powerful engines. Even behind the Iron Curtain, these cars in their green-and-white ToTip livery could be seen—and heard—as the roar of their V6 engines echoed through the hairpins of the old Brno circuit. The Alfa GTV6 was also highly successful in rallying between 1983 and 1986. Most fans will recognize the famous car from the Tour de Corse in the blue-and-white Rothmans livery, driven by Yves Loubet.
And that is how Alfa Romeo used to be... successful, admired, a canvas for tuners, and the very center of every enthusiast's attention.
Photo: Press Stellantis Heritage
