I was a very lucky boy yesterday, because I got to drive a BMW M635 CSi. This was, and still is, one of the best sports cars ever built. I know we're all supposed to get emotional about Porsche 911s as everyday performance cars, but they’re so damned common these days, and not nearly as comfy. The 635 was a proper continent-crusher that would gobble autoroute, autostrada and autobahn with casual abandon.
Sadly, I didn't get to do any gobbling yesterday. The driving conditions were hardly ideal: a monsoon in central London, combined with a traffic-jammed Hyde Park Corner and a South Kensington High Street that was similarly teaming, meant I didn't get to sample the BMW's on-limit handling, either.
Still, I was in highly familiar territory. I used to sell brand new 6s and these were routes on which I used to demonstrate what an all-round sexy beast it was. I remember one customer I passengered with had a bit of a deathwish; she closed in on terminal velocity on The Mall, and nearly gate-crashed Her Majesty’s tea party. Luckily the car stood up to the abuse better than I did; I had to extract myself from the footwell quite carefully.