
If anyone wanted to take a glance at the differences in attitudes and economy between Europe and America in the mid to late 1950s, you could do no better than observe the radical contrasts in motoring trends of that period.
America was enjoying a post war economic boom, and this was reflected in the grand, chrome laden largesse of their vehicles. Fuel consumption wasn't really a major consideration- who cared if the latest Buick, Chevy or Cadillac only did 10 to the gallon when oil and petrol (gas) were cheap and plentiful.
In stark contrast, much of Europe was struggling to stay solvent.
If America was rocking 'n' rolling, the other side of the pond had the blues.
With economies devastated by the conflict only a few years earlier, the raw materials and ready supply of goods that we all take for granted today were in short supply. The slogan 'export or die' was burned into the conscience of a nation in Britain, and the rest of mainland Europe faced an uphill battle to regain economic independence whilst maintaining a beady eye on the ambitions of a belligerent and communist Eastern bloc.
New cars were available, but few had the spare income to purchase or run them. A car was a luxury few working class families could afford. Some people owned a motorcycle and sidecar combination, while others would seek out something pre war, overpriced and often clapped out. The rest were left to shiver at the bus stop—and the winters were colder back then. Brrrrr!
What was needed was an inexpensive and cheap-to-run small car—austerity motoring for the masses.
The big motor car companies seemed to show little interest in producing a small and extremely cheap car. In the UK, although small cars such as the A30 and Morris Minor were in production, owning one remained an impossible dream for many.

As a result, small companies sprung up, mushroom-like, filling a gap in the market by producing baby cars like the Bond with sub-700cc (35.7 cu.in.) engines. Cars in this category were officially defined as 'micro' cars.
Often very crude little creations, they could be considered little better than a motorcycle with a hood. The styling of these cars often looked like they had fallen out of the ugly tree, and hit every twig on the way down!
They got people from A to B relatively cheaply, and at least you didn't get soaked when it rained. But they could hardly be considered good fun motoring—although many owners seem to have fond memories, and they still have their enthusiasts to this day.
However, in Italy an altogether more stylish alternative had been conjured up by a company better known for producing refrigerators and scooters....

In the early 1950s, Iso s.p.A of Milan had been building fridges, scooters and small three-wheeled trucks for a few years. The fridges weren't doing so well, and Vespa were competing a little too well with Iso's scooters and trucks, so, Iso's owner; a certain Count Renzo Rivolta, hinted to his engineers that he would like to build a small car for the masses.
In true Italian form, this car would need to have a degree of style, whilst remaining practical and cheap.
By 1952 the technical team of Ermenegildo Preti and Pierluigi Raggi had finalised the design. It was to be named the Isetta, literally translating as little Iso.
What they presented to the motoring press caused a sensation. Nothing like it had ever been seen before.

A tiny, egg-shaped car with dimensions of just 7.5 feet long by 4.5 feet wide.
A 236cc (14.4 cu.in.) twin cylinder two-stroke engine, mounted in the middle of the car provided the motive power—all 9.5BHP of it!
The Isetta had only one door, which also formed the front of the vehicle—a bold move which made for easy entry and exit from such a small vehicle, whilst reducing construction costs. One door is easier to make than two!
It was extremely curvaceous in shape—a large expanse of glass and a large fabric sunroof completed the exterior styling. This was the first 'bubble car'!


As legend would have it, the stylists had arrived at the design of the Isetta by taking two scooters, placing them close together, adding a refrigerator and shaping the result 'like a teardrop in the wind'.
Whether this is true or not is debatable, but it is certainly poetic.
Inside things were slightly less radical, but still innovative. The steering wheel, complete with steering column swung out with the single door, as this made access to the single bench seat simpler. The latter was often covered in plaid and provided reasonable comfort for two occupants, and perhaps a small child, provided you all got on well.
A large parcel shelf behind the seat was the sole space for any luggage. A small gearstick—which sprung out of the left-hand side like a stick of liquorice—provided four forward speeds and reverse. The sole gauge, a speedometer, was mounted in a small binnacle-like dash, which was hinged to the door along with the steering wheel. Three small warning lights were dotted around the speedo, like cherries on a cake.
A heater was an optional extra, and air conditioning was provided by opening the fabric sunroof—luxury. Central locking came as standard!

There was no petrol gauge, however the petrol (gas) tank was equipped with a reserve tap, which was good for about 30 miles—enough to get you to the nearest filling station.
Performance was pretty lame, even by bubble car standards, with 0-30 mph taking almost 30 seconds and 0-60 achievable only off the edge of a very steep hill (i.e. like a cliff)! Top speed was about 50mph.
The lack of performance didn't stop it winning its class in the Mille Miglia in 1954, though.
Fuel economy was decent enough for a car of the period—in excess of 50 miles per gallon, dependant on how the car was driven.
The 'little Iso' went on sale in 1953, but sales were slow—perhaps the little car was ahead of its time, or maybe Iso's marketing was flawed. Whatever the reason, Iso made a decision which was to make the Isetta the most mass-produced bubble car in the world.

In the early 50s BMW were in a whole heap of trouble. Half of their manufacturing base had been swallowed up behind the iron curtain, and what was left had been heavily bombed in the war, further reducing production capacity.
For the first few years after the war, BMW concentrated on producing motorcycles, but eventually started to move back into car production by the fifties.
However, things were not going well. Consumers in Europe were not interested in the company's range of expensive luxury cars, and the Stateside market had dried up. Its motorcycle division was dwindling, and they were barred from building aircraft engines by allied nations.
By 1954 Iso decided that it wasn't selling enough cars to remain profitable, therefore it decided to sell the design to other companies under a license scheme.
BMW saw an opportunity to produce a small car without incurring massive development costs (at a time when it could ill afford them), and at the same time rescue its business from the hatchet-men.
With the Suez Crisis brewing in the middle east, an oil embargo made the demand for small, economical cars stronger than ever. Now was a good time to be selling tiddly motors.
A license was duly purchased, and BMW engineers set about breathing on the Isetta design.
German no-nonsense engineering, meets the Italian flair for the aesthete—not a bad combination.


First thing to get the boot was the smoky two-stroke twin, and in its place went a detuned version of their R90 single-cylinder four-stroke motorcycle engine, complete with a specially designed transmission.
Rated at 250cc (15.25 cu.in.) and 300cc (18.3 cu.in.) for export versions, this little thumper produced an earth shuddering 12BHP and 13BHP respectively. It also produced quite a bit of vibration, Singles weren't very well balanced back then, and everything shimmers and shakes in an Isetta, especially when on tickover—part of the character of the car.
All the same it made the Isetta positively sprightly compared to it's Iso incarnation—0-30mph acceleration time was reduced to just under 14 seconds! However 60mph was still just a far away dream, with top speed pegged at 53mph.
Economy was up, too. Now the Isetta could easily return 55 miles per gallon, even when driven hard. A lighter right foot could return economies in the high 70s!
BMW's designers worked on a few other areas, to the extent that nothing was directly interchangeable with the Iso design.
The Germans found the car practical, but comical. Almost immediately it earned itself the nickname 'Die rollende ei', which translates to 'the rolling egg'!
A major revision took place in 1957 with sliding windows, which improved ventilation and visibility but altered the original styling somewhat (for the better, in my opinion). A much-improved suspension system gave a softer ride.
At this time a three wheeler was also introduced for the Swedish and British markets, which favoured trikes with lower road tax.

From 1958 the BMW version of the Isetta was being built in Britain under license. This company was called, imaginatively, Isetta of Great Britain.
Under the laws of the day, for the Isetta to be classified as a 'British' car, more than 50% of the car had to be made in Britain. Thus British Isettas had Lucas electrics, Girling brakes, chassis made by Rubery Owen, glass by Triplex and tyres and wheels by Dunlop.
The factory was based in Brighton, Sussex. It was a former locomotive works which was impossible to reach by road. The car parts arrived by rail on one side of the factory, and shiny little bubbles left by rail on the other side, like a job-lot of mobile gob-stoppers.
This unusual arrangement somehow fitted well with the quirky nature of the cars.

You may think that a car like the Isetta would have little appeal in the States. But you'd be wrong if you did. Whilst they didn't sell in the great numbers that they did elsewhere, some 8,000 German-built cars were exported.
Whereas in Britain and mainland Europe the Isetta was seen as an essential—if somewhat unusual—means of transport, in the States it was regarded as a bit of a joke.
Cars were 'given' away by dealers as a 'spare', or used for pizza delivery. Most American owners bought them as a second car, until spare parts suppliers ran out in the early sixties.
Consequently, most American cars have very low mileage compared to their European counterparts.
Some enlightened owners realised the Isetta's merits, and a surprising number have survived to this present day. About a 1,000 cars exist in the States.
Owners of the cars border on the fanatical, and the cars fetch high prices—I bet those dealers wish they'd hung onto those 'spares' now!

The Isetta did get some celebrity attention. Elvis Presley owned one and even purchased one for his manager, Colonel Parker. Cary Grant also owned one. Peter Sellers was another famous owner.
Stirling Moss owned a BMW 600 (a 'bigger' bubble) for a few years—perhaps that one was race tuned!
Isetta production in Britain continued until 1964. About 30,000 cars were produced, with the majority of them built as three wheelers, and a roughly equal number of LHD and RHD cars. Most were sold on the home market, with a reasonable number exported to Canada.
In Germany, the car sold well under the BMW guise. By the end of production in 1962 almost 137,000 had been built and sold by the German factory. The 'little Iso' had fulfilled its role, and helped keep BMW in the black.
Iso also sold licenses to companies based in France (Velam), Spain, Brazil (Romi) and Belgium. Iso, in fact, only made about a 1,000 cars, and made far more money from licensing the design to other companies, than producing them.
Iso went onto grander ambitions, producing high-powered and expensive sports cars in the sixties to compete with the likes of Lamborghini and Ferrari.
Be sure to check part 2, where wel talk about the other great bubble cars that followed. We also cover the resurgence of micro-motoring, and a listing of links is provided for further reading.