Meet your heroes: is the E30 M3 the most iconic BMW ever?

The love began years ago. Every morning on my way to work I would walk past one. An E30 M3. Something about the shape, the stance, the trim perfection of the profile, the kidney grille (remember that?), the box arches. It was this very car that made me fall in love with old cars in general, but the M3 in particular.

For me, it quickly became the car. The one I wanted to own and drive above all others. Reality bit – they’re quite a bit of money now. Nevertheless, an E30 stepped into the breach. Still a limited edition. One of only 400 built in fact. But a Design Edition convertible. I adore it, but it’s not an E30 M3.

Discussion point: could this be BMW’s most iconic car? Think of its legendary reputation, built around its astonishing motorsport success. Even today, 30 years since it deserted racetracks (presumably to sighs of relief from the opposition), it remains the most successful touring car ever.

Photography: Olgun Kordal 

And the road cars were only created to homologate the racers. That’s genuine motorsport pedigree. Initially the plan was for 5,000 to be built. BMW underestimated demand for the car magnificently. By the end of its production run in 1994, over 15,000 M3s had been built.

They weren’t all identical. In total, there were 12 E30 M3 models, from the standard 200bhp car in 1986 to 1990’s 230bhp 2.5-litre M3 Evo III. This one is arguably the most special E30 M3 of all. BMW built a limited run of 505 Evo IIs to celebrate the success of its dominant drivers, Johnny Cecotto and Roberto Ravaglia. There were 480 Cecottos and just 25 Ravaglias – the latter made exclusively for the UK market. 

And today one of them is mine. Looking at it sitting in a layby on Exmoor I feel both exhilarated and intimidated. Nervous, too. It’s been my dream to drive this car, but what’s it going to be like getting back into mine afterwards?

It feels like blasphemy to say, but it kind of left me wanting a bit more

In all the excitement, I had completely forgotten all original E30 M3s were left hand drive. That required a small adjustment, as did the realisation it has a dogleg manual gearbox. Sure, 215bhp is nothing these days, but the 2.3-litre S14 engine is renowned as one of the all time greats. I’m expecting fireworks. 

I don’t think I’ve ever had a bigger grin on my face from driving a car. The achey cheeks, the daft expression. I love the fact that it feels so light, so easy to see out of, I love the challenge of the gearbox, the curiously angled wheel. But where’s the performance? You really have to go looking for it. Ravaglia must have been flat everywhere. My biggest fear was that I’d go back to my own car and be like, “Bleh! this is NOTHING compared to the M3”, but I was shocked to find the power difference wasn’t nearly as dramatic as expected compared with my uprated 2.5L engine. 

But it’s the chassis, the balance and steering that made the E30 the force it was and gave it a reputation it has enjoyed for the past 36 years. It’s come a long way since then of course, power has more than doubled as BMW has dabbled with six and eight cylinders, with turbocharging, even four wheel drive. But that’s not how to breed a legend. To do that, you need to go racing. 

Overall? It feels like blasphemy to say, but it kind of left me wanting a bit more. I actually came away from it conflicted, thinking that there might be other, later, less legendary M3s that might be more fun to drive. So which side of the fence do I come down on? I could argue this one either way. I’m very glad I had this opportunity, left with a massive smile on my face and the knowledge I had driven an 1980s icon. But getting back into my car wasn’t the trauma I feared it might be. I’ve ticked the box, scratched the itch. That’s enough for now.