I arrived in the Cotswolds late one evening, to collect The Review’s motoring editor, Oliver Smith. I had driven out to catch the sun set across the fields, as I wafted along to the sounds of Romance by John Barry. For a moment, I experienced a sense of stillness behind the wheel of Audi’s 4.0 litre, 597bhp weapon. This was quickly dispelled by the quad exhaust delivering a guttural raw the likes of which can only be conveyed in a Jerry Bruckheimer film. I arrived in good time, of course, able to observe the usual pleasantries of drinking coffee, whilst lapping the stationary vehicle and muttering first impressions to ourselves….