My drive of the year

As the white-and-pale-blue bulk of a Co-op lorry fills the road ahead, I know that the good times are over. At least for a while. This bit of the A890 that hugs the southern shoreline of Loch Carron is narrow and even when it straightens there is no way to sensibly squeeze the broad hips of the 911 GT3 Touring alongside the sausage rolls and tins of Minestrone. But I can’t complain; it’s been a fabulous morning so far and it’s only 7am.

Settling into the deep-set bucket seat as though it’s an armchair by the fire, chucking the gear lever into fifth as though lobbing another log on the embers, I ponder what the other contenders are for best drive of the year. We’re talking road drives here not track time, so that rules out the rally cars and the truly special triumvirate of McLaren F1, Porsche 911 GT1 and Mercedes-Benz CLK GTR. And anyway, just as a good meal is only partly about the food, a good drive is only partly about the car.