It sounds irreligious, but I’ve never been able to relate to Ferraris. Give me a quirky English rig with an interesting pedigree and a shape you don’t see every day. There’s something about the smell of leather, the way the rain beads on the bonnet, that reminds you of the day when almost anybody in England could build a sports car, and most of them did. A worker in Coventry once said to me about the Triumph TR6: "It rides hard and smells of oil, mate. They just don't make cars like that any more!"