Each corner is the same. Slow for entry, grab a rev-matched downshift with ease as the friendly, flexible 4.2 quickly zings up a few thousand rpm, then feed out the power through the broadly flexible powerband. If you’re interested, that exhaust probably unlocks a few extra ponies up at the top end of the rev-range, but its real magic is how much more of the tenor of the V8 you get in the cabin without it being obnoxious. As the car clips the apex and the Quattro digs in to dole out the torque, you can see the negative pressure area behind the back hatch sucking up the rain, leaving a streaming contrail of water and sonorous eight-cylinder music behind us.

What a great car. What a great shame that some bean-counter has decided not to cater to the few, but to focus on selling the masses a bunch of leather-lined amorphous blobs with too many cupholders instead.

If you’re interested, the cost of owning a machine like this one is not as bad as you think. Fuel consumption is, as previously mentioned, a non-trivial expense, but the depreciation at this point is practically nil, given the lack of replacement options. If reliability is a concern, and it is here as with any older German car that isn’t air-cooled, then there are warranty options available, and they’ll generally pay for themselves.

Care of the Alcantara seat inserts requires a little specialized knowledge, but it’s the sort of thing anyone who cared about this car would take a little pride in knowing. The rest of the interior is very simple: a chubby three-spoke steering wheel, a little aluminum trim, and that all-important manual gear shifter.

The right-sized car, the right engine, the right transmission, the right road – four interlocked rings bringing a little joy into a grey and cheerless day. I think I’ll take just one more run back up that hill. The car wants me to.

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