Let’s get one thing absolutely clear: the folding hard-top on this MX-5 works really, really well. It adds a trifling 37kg to the kerb weight, it goes up or down in a mere 12 seconds and the MX-5’s ample boot space is unaffected. Brilliant.

What’s more, the ‘Roadster Coupe’ is just 10mm taller than its soft-top sibling. It looks like a convertible with a one-piece hard-top attached rather than a coupe per se, but it looks good nonetheless, particularly in the dark, vinous red of our test car, which, compared with the letterbox red most roadsters seem to be ordered in, lends the MX-5’s slightly playschool styling a bit more maturity.

Keyless entry is now an option for the MX-5 but no starter button has been added, just a toggle to twizzle on the steering column. The interior was one of the things vastly improved on the new MX-5, and with the roof up and the heated seats set to medium roast it’s a snug place to while away a few miles.

The origami metal roof adds £1760 to the price of the equivalent soft-top, which doesn’t seem unreasonable given that it’s an option that should command a decent premium second-hand.

So it’s a sure-fire winner then? Well, if you were going to buy an MX-5 anyway then you’d be mad not to go for the Roadster Coupe. However, digitally remastering Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls does not make it a good film; putting a diamante collar on a baboon does not make it housetrained, and sticking a fancy roof on an MX-5… well, you get the idea.

The steering seems to have been given more weight, which eliminates the two-stabs-at-a-corner feeling. However, the wheel still doesn’t really provide you with any tangible evidence of what sort of contact there is between Messrs Macadam and Bibendum. You could put up with this in isolation, but from the moment the rear squats strangely as you turn in, the MX-5’s suspension feels all at sea. It just never feels poised or planted through a corner.

The 2-litre engine is really not a nice thing either, emitting a noise like a diesel transit at constantly high revs on a motorway. The gearbox is lovely and snickety, but up amongst the admittedly high roads of the Austrian Tyrol you certainly have to use it a lot – this engine would struggle to pull on a poorly lit singles night in a student union. Despite a 33bhp deficit, the 1.8 actually feels like the sweeter motor.

It rained heavily on our second day out in Austria, making the hard-top seem like an even more sensible idea. It also made the MX-5 more interesting to drive – as grip decreases, reduced lateral loading means the chassis leans less, and consequently the MX-5 will generally slide before the wallowy motion sets in. Also, the weedy engine now has some hope of overcoming the rear tyres round the hairpins. It’s still a very disconnected car to drive, though, particularly at the front, and I’m glad the Austrians keep their roads racetrack-smooth, but it is at least more fun.

The MX-5 is ultimately a very frustrating car. You just know that it should be brilliant, and if Mazda can engineer something like a metal folding roof for a small roadster without any major compromises, then they must be able to sort the rest of it out.