Alpina B10 BiTurbo
"There are cars that are faster. But none that are faster and still look as though they're on their way to the opera." That is more or less the entire idea behind Alpina, and nobody understood it quite as well as Burkard Bovensiepen. While BMW itself was flexing its muscles in Munich with the M division, Bovensiepen chose an altogether different approach in the quiet town of Buchloe.
No brute powerhouse with racing stripes, but a velvet-soft assassin in a tailored suit. A car you'd spot looming in the outside lane on the M25, one of those neat, dark saloons, and which would then simply vanish before you could spell "Alpina".
Bovensiepen did something BMW itself never dared: he took the big straight-six, hung two turbos on it, and lifted the whole thing to a level the standard M5 could only gawp at. Where the M division sold high revs and naturally aspirated drama, Alpina sold torque. Mountains of torque. A wave of power that builds so smoothly your passenger thinks you're not doing more than sixty, while the needle has long since sailed past a number you'd rather not mention out loud to your insurer.
And then those details. Alpina never did anything by halves. The famous twenty-spoke wheels, the decorative pinstripe along the flank, the Alpina plaque on the dashboard with its own production number. This was not tuning as the average lad down my street practised it, with a sports exhaust and a spoiler from the charity shop. This was German engineering with an Italian taste for elegance.
It was no accident that Alpina was registered as a full-fledged marque in its own right, with a chassis number of its own that begins with WAPBA. Not a converted BMW, then, but a genuine Alpina.
Right, back to the B10 BiTurbo in question. This black one, Diamantschwarz to be precise, stands here as one of the most coveted Alpinas of the E34 era. 360 hp from that BiTurbo straight-six, manual gearbox, and a history many a collector would kill for. What makes this car so special, you see, is its service record. And I don't mean a handful of loose receipts in the glovebox.
This B10 was, in fact, largely maintained by Alpina itself in Buchloe. Not at some random garage round the corner, not even at a specialist, but simply in the place where it was born. The complimentary delivery inspection in 1991, the running-in check at just under two thousand kilometres, and after that a series of services that for the most part took place right back at the factory.
Motorölservices, Inspektion I, Inspektion II, brake fluid, coolant, microfilter, all neatly ticked off and stamped. For a car of this rarity, that is the difference between a gamble and a certainty.
What appeals to me personally about this generation of Alpina is the subtlety. In an age where everyone now has their EV roaring a fake soundtrack out of the speakers, here stands a car that hides its power in a whisper, behind a body that could just as easily have belonged to a branch manager. The ultimate wolf in sheep's clothing. You drive it to the opera, park it neatly by the door, and nobody knows that beneath that unassuming bonnet lies a biturbo straight-six that sends most of the sports cars of its day packing.
It's precisely the sort of car I have a weakness for. No brash show, no stripes and spoilers for the gallery, just pure, restrained class with a punch of torque when you ask for it. The connoisseur spots it at once, the rest drive obliviously past. And, honestly, that is exactly how Alpina intended it.
This one doesn't just drive past. This one stays with you.
Special features
- Rare Alpina B10 BiTurbo based on the E34
- Powerful BiTurbo straight-six, good for 360 hp
- Elegant colour 181 Diamantschwarz
- Extensive service record, largely with Alpina in Buchloe itself
- Its own Alpina chassis number (WAPBA), a full-fledged marque
- The ultimate wolf in sheep's clothing
Full insight into the papers our assessment is built on. Carfax vehicle history, service documentation and paint thickness report — page by page.
