Just recently I was back at my favorite motor museum, Lane Motor Museum in Nashville, to shoot a new series of Jason Drives episode. While there, I became reacquainted with a car I’ve seen and driven before, but haven’t really discussed much here: a citroen dyne. Diane is interesting in many ways, but today I want to focus on just one disturbing detail: how do you get out of the damn thing.
Dyane is, essentially, 2CV in more trendy clothing. It was supposed to be a 2CV replacement (the original 2CV remained in production longer) and kept the 2CV’s drivetrain and chassis, but updated the body design to something similar, while generally keeping the same shape and proportions. One was a bit roomier, felt a bit more modern than the corrugated shed-feeling of the original, and was an actual hatchback.
In addition to decadent luxuries like headlights actually integrated into the fenders and more seats than lawn chairs, the Diane also sported a somewhat more modern and refined looking interior, still very Citron idiosyncratic, but slightly less than the 2CV Spartan.
One of the changes Diane brought in was the more generic-car-appearing door cards, which were filled with armrests and door pockets and all that kind of grandeur. Here’s what they looked like:
Ooh-la-la, he’s living, right there.
Now, I have this question to you: If you’re sitting in this car, how do you get out?
If any Diane owner is reading this, please don’t spoil it for us Americans and other dummies, okay?
Where is the door release on this thing? I’ll give you a few clues: It’s not in that little finger pocket that acts like a handle to close the door, and the padded armrests give your hand anything other than a comfortable shopping spree Doesn’t or doesn’t either.
It’s not even in that bottom pocket, and it’s not part of that molding under the sliding window.
As far as user experience is concerned, it will be called not searchable.
If you’re amazed, don’t feel too bad—when Lane first got this car, David Yando—the museum’s manager and someone who sits on the board of directors—came in after hours to drive it, when he was alone in the museum. , and found himself trapped.
David told me that after a while, the real panic started, as he wasn’t interested in spending several days without food, water, or a bathroom, living in a French compact car.
Eventually, he was able to pull half his body out of the sunroof and reach down to grab the exterior door handle to free himself.
There Is There’s a door handle. Want to take another peek? This time, I’ll take a picture from the angle you’ll No If you were sitting in the car, it’s a little deceiving.
Still, if you’re stuck, you can see if this angle helps:
Watch it now? Want Answer? OK, click here.
Wow, isn’t it? This may be the worst interior door handle placement I have encountered. It’s effectively invisible when you’re sitting in the car, and even if you know roughly where it is, you still get a weird feeling for the little hole in there. Will have to do
Why would Citron do this? Would it have killed them to shield some sort of recess or panel or Some In that panel to give a visual indication of where you have to put your hand to open the damn door?
How many people have been brought to the brink of claustrophobic panic because of this absurd creation?