I have just had my first drive in Morgan, the full-on Aero 8 America. It was an eye-opening experience in a world where cars such as the BMW M3 can be used for tootling to the shops in near-silence and extraordinary comfort.

Autocar's long-term Jaguar XKR might have mighty performance, but it is an absolutely effortless, unintimidating drive.

Which is why the Aero 8 is such a shock to the system. True, I'm not the smallest person in the world, but I could only just squeeze into the driver's seat and then only by putting one leg in first and then feeding myself in backwards.

The steering wheel sits very close to the driver, and I had to position myself even closer so I could properly manipulate the strongly-sprung and snatchy clutch pedal. It's tiny inside; narrow, low-roofed and wide-silled.

Once I'd got set up into a position that allowed me to drive through town without kangarooing, I was hit by a mental image of Roy Salvadori, sitting right up against an oversized and thin-rimmed steering wheel, elbows out, sawing away. This car seems determined to hark back, and take you with it.

Which is what I find so confusing about the Aero 8. When it was launched, it was billed as a ground-up re-think of the brand's classic roadster, but it seems to be stuck in time warp.