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Diecast Delights: A Goggomobile T250 in 1:18 scale.

Chris Haining September 19, 2016 Cars You Should Know, Diecast Delights 17 Comments


Of all the post-war expansion microcars, the Goggomobil T250 was probably the most conventional, if you can call a tiny two-door sedan with a rear-mounted, air-cooled twin-cylinder engine anything but kerrayzee.

With a Messerschmitt KR200 already in the Diecast Delights fleet, ever since I met a Goggomobil T250 at a car show I had an urge to complete the Diecast Microcar triumverate. Now there’s only the BMW Isetta to go. And something tells me that one will be along soon.

This diminutive beastie grows to larger than life-size if you click the images.


Compared to the KR200 and the Isetta, the T250 looked rather like a regular car.  It had a three-box shape, four seats and four wheels following the convention planform, albeit with some fairly dramatic camber angles going on.

The Goggomobil came in several flavours, T Sedans, TS Coupes and TL Vans and in 250, 300 and 400cc engine capacities. Revell has produced models of various versions of T250. This one represents an example that wears the full dress-up kit, with chrome liberally sprinkled all over, an imitation grille, whitewall tyres; headlamp peaks and a roll-back canvas lid. It’s tricky to be precise on the year, but the front hinged doors tell us it’s post ’64.


The active word when it comes to describe this model is ‘cute’. It’s a lovely thing to hold, if just because it’s so damn small. Right now it’s sitting in my office right next to Hatchtopia’s 1:24 scale Ford Escape and they’re near as damnit the same size.

Part of the charm of this model is probably also its undoing. It’s a little bit toy-like. But then again, so is the original. The fidelity of the model is a bit of a mixed bag. The casting is clean with no sharp edges or obvious sink marks. The paintwork is generally excellent, too. Some of the fine detail – the gorgeously captured badges, the rear lamps and the rolled-back roof are beautifully captured. Yet the side indicator lamps are made from a strange, golden plastic in place of an amber lens, and some of the chrome is rather on the cheezy side.


It has it where it counts, though. The interior’s pretty impressive, with both front seats folding forwards, an accurate-looking white Bakelite steering wheel and an accurately barren body-coloured dashboard.

Those whitewalls, though, are a bit of a disaster. When I first saw how unevenly and inaccurately the paint was applied I wasn’t sure if it hadn’t been done by a previous owner of the model, using white aircraft enamel and a big bushy paintbrush. Nope, it turns out that this is how they came from the factory. They must have produced the whole run of these on the first Friday afternoon back at work after new year’s day.


There is an engine of sorts under a removable rear panel, but it’s decidedly unphotogenic so I didn’t bother. It’s there, though, and finishes off what is a rather charming little model, of rather a charming little car.

As is the usual case with models in my collection, these things are all over eBay. You can either pay hardly anything, like I did, or pay through the nose – such is the random way people price their wares. Something about it means this one will be staying in the collection for a good while yet.

(All images copyright Chris Haining / Hooniverse 2016)