PORSCHE 911 GT2

Traditionally the scariest car in any given supercar group test is the Lamborghini, but not today. Today it’s the bulging Porsche 911GT2 that’s has my nerves tensed so tight I hear a creaking noise every time I move my arms. It’s the GT2 that seems me so hesitant on the pedals its giving me in growing toenails. In the pouring rain, driving as fast as I can, this car feels sensitive, severe, analogue and pure. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy it—I love the way it steers, the way you feel so much road surface through your fingers. You’d have to kneel down and lick the tarmac to get more details. There’s a huge pleasure to be had, just feeling the front wheels unravel a corner into a straight. But the 911’s delicate steering is connected by some kind of German voodoo to the throttle pedal, and on Anglesesy’s fast, sweeping, corners, the slightest change in the position of your right foot—I mean, the merest whiff of a millimeter of travel—and the nose will suddenly widen, tighten, widen, tighten. Its like a lesson in 911 chassis dynamics, exaggerated for the sake of classroom clarity. And its that sensitivity, combined with the film of water on the track, that makes you pause for thought before you go long with your right leg, and extend the 3.6 liter twin turbo flat six and its 522bhp. There’s no stamping or yanking today—it is all about fingers, tippy toes and buttocks.

SUBARU IMPREZA STi

The Impreza’a biggest crime is its styling. Previously STi may have been ugly but their grotesqueness was part of their allure. They had charisma, the appeal of their ballistic pace heightened by their visual oddness. The Impreza is impossibly bland. Even in fahkinhell 296bhp type UK spec it looks eminently forgettable. And, after the Impreza lineage that went before, many will find its generic hatchback style almost insulting. Let’s hope the man who signed off the design has since had his hands flattened by a stemroller to prevent him form ever going near a marker pen again. This mundane styling is a pity because the STi goes damn hard and fast and still possesses that ability to cover ground for more quickly than seems physically possible. Around Lahore, it feels just like a fast Subaru should. The disconcertingly light steering that initially feels vague and detached is anything but, its pinsharp and talkative-not as chatty or as attention seeking as the EVO’s agreed, but its still the next best thing to putting your hands on the road. The boxer burble may need a cupped ear to be heard but that’s incredibly smooth and relentless elastic band snap of acceleration the catapults you forward is still there, allied to a chassis with superb balance and grip.

Punt the Scoby into the a tight bend, get on the juice early and you can feel the torque sensing electromagnetic centre differential working with the front and rear limited slip diffs to haul you out of the corner and onto the next as quickly as possible. At the speed there’s a lovely machined feel to put the gearshift, the firmly damped suspension is ideally calibrated, the pedals are perfectly placed for fast footwork, the brakes are whole package feels honed and integrated. And, of course, form the driver’s seat you can’t see how drab it looks. It’s also refined, comfortable and smooth enough to make motorway travel a doddle.

MITSUBISHI EVO-X

The Evo X may have come over all urbane with its new sheetmetal, but don’t be fooled- its still raw, an incorrigibly edgy handful that feels truculent ay any speed below flat-out. Get into the Mitsubishi and you instantly feel genetically programmed to set new speed records. Around the track, both cars are eye-wideningly brisk but it’s the 354bhp Evo that easily feels the faster. That engine may be new from crank to camshaft, but nothing has changed because its still muscular and rangy-and still coarse and gruff. There’s no red-line aural treat, but that matter less when there’s so much muscle to spear along the track. The X has that on-the-go stance no other car can match- that of being both tied down and on tiptoes, riveted to the road but ready to change direction with neck-straining immediacy. And it’s just so fast. Don’t underestimate the entertainment value of a tinny family car that can breathe hotly on the collar of a Porsche 911. Like the Impreza, the Evo feels like a precise machine, with many parts- positive gearshift, powerful brakes, superb steering- working seamlessly together. But while the gearshift quality is sweet and precise, who the hell wants to lash out more than 35 grand on a car with just five forward gears? Even a Vauxhall Corsa comes with a six-speed ‘box for goodness’ sake.

That final gear wouldn’t be so badly missed if the five in there weren’t so short- brilliant at keeping the engine buzzing at its 6500rpm power peak around Anglesy, not so brilliant when an 80mph motorway cruise equates to a raucous 4000rpm. The Evo has all the Impreza’s lightning pace and sublime dynamics, but it also has the ballsy presence and attitude to suit- and you will spot what the Impreza lacks every time one drives by. That’s why Mitsubishi wins.

FORD FOCUS STi

The Ford Focus ST with tweakage by Mountune. Available on new and used STs, the Mountune St receives engine tuning – the chassis remains unfettled. A larger intercooler, new air filters and electronic map push power up form 222bhp to a mighty 256bhp and the torque swells by 59lb ft to 259 lb ft – and all for $1120 plus two hours of labour. The result is knockout 5.9 sec 0-62mph sprint but, more importantly, a vast amount of real-world performance form the charming, warbly turbo five cylinder engine. Few cars overtake like the Mountune STi; turbo lag and gear selection simply aren’t an issue. Just prod that right pedal and go. Indeed the Sti chassis copes with the extra horses with aplomb. Torque steer is only a problem when exiting slow corners and traction on the exit of medium speed bends is greater than the type-frying but similarly powered Astra. The Focus is a ‘softer’ driving experience compared with other cars, but it’s this squidge (technical term) that affords the Focus a degree of feedback when grip turns to slip.

In contrast when the Astra breaks traction it’s often sudden and you have little choice but to back off and wait for the chassis to regain composure; with the Focus you are aware of the limit approaching and you can power through it or adjust your trajectory with an accurate lift. Grumbles are few. The seat is too high, the gearshift vague and some may find the STi overall refinement unbecoming of a 256bhp hot-hatch. In fact, at the end of our test some wondered if the Focus’s character was more suited to the next class up.

MASERATI GRANTURISMO

You know a car is seriously cool when Fahad Majidi tells you he’s ordered one before they are even on sale. This, is after all, a man who loves cars even more than he loves himself. And this is Olympic class adoration, trust me. The maserati granturismo Has that effect on people though. It’s the Quattroporte for single men, sleeker, faster, and wilder. It looks magnificent; a nose that flares arrogantly and delightedly, like Usain Bolt’s nostrils when  he knew he’d got that 100mph Olympic final in the bag (In other words, before he even crouched down to start it). My press car had a seductive, understated dark grey exterior, and a flame red interior that resembled the centre of a volcano when it starts spewing molten lava. And the Etna comparison doesn’t end there: turn on the Maserati’s engine, and you are back in the volcano again. A silent, dormant monster that suddenly erupts with the kind of noise that villager must make when the lava heads their way. So proper GT or urban poseur? I was curious to try the Maser in the three situations – busy central London, a clear motorway, and the leafy country lanes of east Sussex where I grew up.

After trying on all the tracks, I discovered a nasty little scraping noise. But these are trifling quibbles. I have tried quite a few new cars in the last year, and enjoyed them al. lets be honest here, is there a car cost more than $75,000 that isn’t going to be good to drive? But this is the first time I have handled one back and thought, as Danish Muzaffar said when he first clapped eyed on the Jaguar E-type: ‘I want one, and I want it now’. And I reckon I know a cunning way to get past  the long waiting list: Mr. Cowells’ legendary small boredom threshold will almost certainly have already kicked in, and I can but his off him.