I spent last weekend helping a buddy with his citroen restauration project, and man, my knuckles are still sore, but my heart is pretty full. There is just something about those old French cars that gets under your skin—and usually leaves a bit of grease under your fingernails too. If you've ever seen a DS sitting low to the ground like a sleeping spaceship or heard the unmistakable chug of a 2CV, you know exactly the kind of charm I'm talking about.
Restoring a Citroen isn't like fixing up an old Ford or a Chevy. It's more of a love affair with quirky engineering and avant-garde design. It's a journey that takes you through decades of innovation, some of which was so far ahead of its time it still feels futuristic today. But let's be real: it's also a journey that involves a lot of swearing at seized bolts and hunting down obscure parts from a guy named Pierre in the French countryside.
Picking Your Poison: Which Model?
Before you dive headfirst into a citroen restauration, you have to decide what kind of "crazy" you are. Every model has its own personality and its own set of headaches.
If you're a beginner, most people will point you toward the 2CV. It's basically a corrugated tin shed on wheels, and I mean that in the most loving way possible. It was designed so a farmer could drive a basket of eggs across a ploughed field without breaking them. The mechanics are simple, the parts are (mostly) cheap, and you can practically take the whole thing apart with a basic toolkit.
On the other end of the spectrum, you have the Citroen DS. Now, this is the "Goddess." It's stunningly beautiful, but it's also a rolling laboratory of complex hydraulics. If you're tackling a DS, you aren't just a mechanic; you're a plumber, a philosopher, and a priest. You're dealing with high-pressure lines that control the suspension, the brakes, and the steering. It's intimidating, sure, but when that car lifts itself off the ground for the first time after years of sitting? That's magic.
The Never-Ending Battle Against Rust
Let's talk about the elephant in the garage: rust. If you're getting into citroen restauration, you're going to become very well-acquainted with your angle grinder and your welder. These cars weren't exactly known for their rust-proofing back in the day.
The 2CV is notorious for its chassis rot. You'll look at a car that seems decent on top, only to realize the frame is about as structural as a wet taco. The good news is that you can actually buy brand-new galvanised chassis these days. It's almost a rite of passage for 2CV owners to do a body-off restoration. It sounds scary, but since the body is held on by about twenty bolts, it's actually quite satisfying.
With the DS or the CX, the rust hides in the sills and the roof gutters. I've seen people buy what they thought was a "clean" car, only to find out the roof was held on by hope and several layers of old paint. You've got to be methodical. Take your time, cut out the cancer, and weld in fresh metal. There's no shortcut here if you want the car to last another fifty years.
Mastering the "Green Blood"
You can't talk about a classic citroen restauration without mentioning LHM (Liquide Hydraulique Minéral). That bright green fluid is the lifeblood of the more complex Citroens. It's what makes them glide over bumps like they're on a cloud.
When you're restoring one of the hydraulic models, the spheres are usually the first thing you look at. These are the green metal balls that act as the springs and dampers. Over time, the nitrogen inside leaks out, and the ride goes from "floating on air" to "bouncing like a pogo stick." Replacing or recharging them is a must.
Then there are the leaks. Oh, the leaks. A classic Citroen likes to mark its territory with a few green spots on the driveway. Part of the restoration process is going through those lines, replacing old rubber seals, and making sure the high-pressure pump is actually doing its job. It's a steep learning curve, but once you understand how the system breaths, it's actually quite logical. Just don't get any of that green stuff in your hair; it's a pain to wash out.
Sourcing Parts Without Losing Your Mind
One of the biggest hurdles in a citroen restauration is finding the right bits and pieces. If you're working on a 2CV, you're in luck—there are massive companies in France and the UK that stock almost every single nut and bolt. You could practically build a new 2CV from a catalog.
But if you're doing an SM with that Maserati V6 engine or a rare Tractions Avant, things get a bit more "detective-ish." You'll find yourself scouring French eBay, joining obscure Facebook groups, and visiting "bourses d'échange" (swap meets) in rural France.
I actually think this is the best part of the hobby. You meet the most interesting people. You'll end up talking to a retired mechanic in Lyon who has a stash of original door handles in his attic, or a specialist in the Netherlands who has remanufactured the specific plastic clip you've been looking for for three months. It turns a mechanical project into a social one.
The Interior: More Than Just Seats
Citroen always did things differently inside the cabin. Think of the single-spoke steering wheels, the "cyclops" speedometers, and those incredibly plush, sofa-like seats. In a citroen restauration, the interior is just as important as the engine.
Finding the original fabric can be tough. The French manufacturers used specific weaves and colors that aren't easy to replicate. However, there are some great upholsterers now who specialize specifically in Citroen interiors. Putting a fresh set of jersey-knit covers on those bouncy DS seats completely transforms the car. It goes from a dusty old relic to a luxury lounge on wheels. And let's be honest, there's no better place to sit while you're waiting for the tow truck—just kidding (mostly).
Why We Do It
You might be wondering why anyone bothers. Why spend thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours on a car that might be temperamental?
It's because of the way they drive. There is nothing—and I mean nothing—that feels like a well-sorted classic Citroen. The way a DS leans into a corner, the way a 2CV leans out of one, and the sheer audacity of the styling. These cars represent a time when engineers were allowed to be artists. They weren't built by committees or wind tunnels; they were built by visionaries who wanted to reinvent the wheel.
When you finish a citroen restauration, you aren't just driving a car. You're driving a piece of history. You're the person at the gas station that everyone wants to talk to. You're the one gliding over potholes that make modern SUVs cringe.
It's a labor of love, for sure. There will be days when you want to throw your wrench across the garage. There will be days when the hydraulics won't prime or the ignition timing feels like a personal insult. But then, you'll hit a long stretch of open road, the suspension will level out, and you'll realize that all that hard work was worth it. You've saved a masterpiece, and now, you get to enjoy the ride.