The Serpent's Global Bite: Alfa Romeo Obsession Across Continents

Alfa Romeo has always attracted people who see cars as more than machines. Across different cultures, climates, and professions, the brand connects individuals who value emotion, craft, and involvement over convenience. From Oslo, Norway, to Bangkok, Thailand, these two stories trace parallel paths shaped by the same instinct: to build, maintain, and drive Alfa Romeos as they were meant to be experienced.

Alongside this work, Frode runs his own small company, Myhrindustrial. He spends countless hours in his workshop developing prototypes, building chassis, shaping aluminium and steel bodywork, and solving mechanical problems. Cars have always been part of that equation. For more than twenty years he has been involved in developing parts for racing cars, mainly Italian ones. Ferrari, Alfa Romeo, Lancia, and Fiat have passed through his hands, most of them destined for vintage racing and gentleman racing. At the same time, he has designed furniture for just as long, producing both small unique series and large scale pieces for the contract market. Even his most recent venture, a company called Goodmood that produces handmade vintage toys inspired by early Grand Prix and prewar race cars, comes from the same place. Mechanics, form, movement, and joy.

The first Alfa Romeos he clearly remembers noticing were the Alfa 75 Turbo and the Alfasud. They looked different, sounded different, and carried an attitude that set them apart. His first Alfa, however, was a 1976 Giulia Nuova Super 1300, finished in dark blue, Hollandese Blau. He found it online for sale and bought it for 1000 euros. That car did more than just get him from one place to another. It quietly set the direction for the next decades of his life.

In 1997, Frode and two friends started their first shared garage. At the time, the collection was modest but telling. An Alfetta GT, an Alfetta GTV, and the Giulia Nuova Super. Three years later, he moved to Oslo where he quickly discovered that Alfa Romeo has a way of pulling people together. On the streets, through shared cars and shared obsessions, he met a group of like-minded characters who were already calling themselves Rodeløkka Jekkeklubb, bonded above all by their love for Bertone coupes. They had talked about finding a place together, but nothing concrete had happened. Frode’s arrival was the final push.

Ten people committed to finding a shared space. Within days, they secured an old chocolate factory, roughly 1000 square meters of raw industrial space. Rough, imperfect, loud, and completely right. That was in 2002. The garage has moved several times since, but the core group remains. Today, they share around seventy cars, with eleven active members and a wider group of about twenty.

Living with a classic car in Norway is easier than expected. Parts are accessible, insurance is cheap, and the roads are exceptional. Winter simply requires patience. The cars rest, maintenance is completed. But, when the snow melts, the driving begins.

Frode laughs when talking about critics who believe electric cars alone will save the planet. Restoring, maintaining, and continuing to use old machines is also a form of sustainability. And more importantly, it makes people happy. A happy planet, as he puts it, is a better planet.

When asked about favorite Alfa Romeos, Frode does not hesitate. The Sprint GTA stands above everything else. After that comes the Tipo 33. Both cars represent something fundamental about the brand. Lightness, intent, and a sense that driving should always be an active experience.

That is what, for him, truly defines Alfa Romeo. Having worked on and driven so many cars over the years, what still surprises him is how alive they feel. The steering, the brakes, the gearshift, the cockpit layout, there is always something that communicates directly with the driver. You can push them again and again, always getting feedback in return. They may not last forever, but they are easy to understand, fix, and rewarding to maintain.

Pasin Auttayatamavitaya is known to most people simply as Tamm. He is 37 years old and grew up in Phuket, Thailand. Though far from Alfa Romeo’s origins, he formed a deep connection to the brand. His professional life did not begin in a garage. For many years, Tamm worked as a fashion photographer and film director, building a career around visual storytelling. Cars were always present in the background, not as a hobby but as a quiet obsession. Eventually, that pull became impossible to ignore, and he left his profession to work full-time on vintage Alfa Romeos.

The first Alfa he remembers was a neighbor’s dark blue 1750 GTV. He still recalls how striking it looked, parked quietly yet full of presence. That image stayed with him. When it came time to buy his own, it was a 1972 2000 GTV. A kind gentleman introduced him to the previous owner. At first, the car did not look particularly impressive in photos, but everything changed the moment Tamm drove it. The connection was immediate. In Thailand, there is a phrase for that instant and irreversible fascination: being “bitten by the serpent.” Tamm knew right away that this small machine would bring him a great deal of joy.

Veloce was born naturally out of that passion. Tamm founded the garage together with Jo, another classic car enthusiast who shared the same values and standards. Before opening Veloce, Tamm trained under Chang, an old-school Alfa Romeo mechanic with 45 years of experience. He spent years repairing and tuning vintage Alfas for friends. Jo, at the same time, was deep into the restoration of his Alfa Romeo Montreal. They respected each other’s work and approach. Opening a garage together felt less like a business decision and more like an inevitable next step.

Today, Veloce operates with a core team of four people, supported by trusted specialists when needed. It is not a large operation, but it is focused. Every car is treated with care, patience, and a clear philosophy about how these machines should be built and driven.

There is a reason the explanation always comes back to the same word. Emotion. Not as an idea, but as something mechanical. Felt through the steering, the brakes, the rhythm of the engine.

On track, an Alfa does not ask to be forced. It asks to be understood. You push, you adjust, you listen. The car responds. Light, balanced, forgiving. Lap after lap, it becomes less about speed and more about feel.

They are not perfect cars. They never have been. Parts fail. Things wear. But that, too, becomes part of the experience. Each repair sharpens the connection. Each adjustment brings the car closer to you.

Across different countries, different garages, and different lives, the appeal remains unchanged. These are cars that reward attention. That ask for involvement. That are meant to be used.

And once understood, are difficult to leave behind.