This is how we obtain acceleration figures on a supercar:
Warm the tyres but not the clutch. Engage first gear, feed in a couple of thousand revs, briskly come off clutch while feathering the throttle to optimise a smidge of wheel chirrup. Keep giving just as much power as the rear tyres can handle, probably correct some slip at the back, snap second gear home, repeat obligatory 'dab of oppo', flat-shift again, pass 100mph… and stop. Download the data. Swear a bit. Try again. Swear some more. And try again.
This is how we obtained acceleration figures on the Nissan GT-R: Engage gear. Plant throttle. Feel nauseous. Stop. Download data. Have a cup of tea.
The GT-R, see, is a ridiculously easy car to drive fast. Getting a 3.8sec 0-60mph time out of it – all it will do since Nissan stopped fitting launch control – takes no more effort than pushing the 'go' button on Mario Kart. The GT-R's limits, too, are exceptionally approachable by the standards of cars this quick. Through the fastest bend on our dry handling circuit at MIRA (taken accelerating through 100mph), it takes more nerve than I have to ask for the lot from a Porsche 911 GT2. My Mum would have no qualms about pushing a GT-R's throttle wide open at the same spot. The GT-R is properly fast, too. It's just as quick as the GT2 or a Ferrari 430 Scuderia, which cost more than two and three times the GT-R's price respectively. And the Scuderia, don't forget, is said to be faster on a circuit than a Ferrari Enzo. Closer to the GT-R's price point, an Audi R8 trails the it on track by three and a half seconds. The GT-R is brilliant, exploitable, scarcely believable fun.