So it must have done something right, because by the end of the day I was in no doubt that it was the most evo car I'd driven all year. Every bit as enthralling as the Elise, even better steering, and substantially quicker too. I duly put it top on my scoresheet, ahead of 911 Turbo, Diablo and P1. Unfortunately others weren't quite so prepared to overlook the faults of this pre-production car and it finished fifth. The fools!

Quality control was undoubtedly an issue, though, and production was delayed while Vauxhall chiefs banged heads together at Hethel and wondered what they'd gotten themselves into. Meanwhile my name was pencilled-in next to the promise of a long-term test car in time for summer 2001. I was a happy bunny.

In fact it wasn't until last August that X335 EMJ arrived, and it soon became apparent it wasn't quite factory-fresh. It came with more than 6000 miles already on the clock, and being a press fleet car, it hadn't exactly been handled with kid gloves. Only later did I discover just how hard some of those miles had been. Thumbing a copy of Autocar I came across an article about how the magazine had taken a bunch of readers out to Spain on a Vauxhall jolly to thrash around the Jerez track for several days. And the registration number of the car in the pic being flung around by grinning madmen? You guessed.

That probably explained the scuffs on the trim and the rattles over sharp bumps or potholes. But it didn't really explain the way the top of the facia was lifting at both ends, or the generally poor fit and finish. Door panels shook, the headrest-type-thing behind the passenger seat kept coming adrift, the passenger footrest was loose. The body seemed better finished, but the first time I washed the car by hand the front number plate fell off, one of the rear light covers misted up, I snagged my sponge on the wires for the high-level brake light, which were dangling in space, and I sliced a finger on the jagged edge of the mesh trim around the exhaust pipes. I was not impressed. Had I just forked out ΂£23,000 for this car, I would have been something close to apoplectic.

It is only fair to reiterate that this was an early car, and Vauxhall has pushed hard for improved quality. If you've recently bought a VX220 I'd be interested to hear from you, and I promise to report back when we've assessed the finish of later cars. So drop me a line. The daft thing is, had it been wearing a Lotus badge we'd be more indulgent. Somehow it's fair game because the cheques are being written out to Vauxhall. And then there was the woefully ill-judged ad campaign. The VX didn't have the best start in life.

But it took just a handful of late-evening cross-country drives home to remind me why we rate this car so highly. The gutsy 2.2-litre 16-valver from the Astra Coupe has next to nothing to push along. Many was the hot hatch driver left floundering behind, and even Impreza jockeys weren't immune. The VX also has a superb high-speed ride, better than most Caterhams, arguably better across a mixture of surfaces than even the Elise, its suppleness keeping all four tyres square to the tarmac, building confidence.

Pretty soon I was aching to take it on a track day or two. First time I was thwarted by a malfunctioning ECU, replaced by W Grose of Northampton, one of the fifty Vauxhall dealers authorised to fettle VX220s. A couple of weeks later I tiptoed nervously onto a damp Silverstone GP circuit at a GoldTrack day. A handful of laps later it was my turn to grin like a madman. It's hard to imagine that anything the sensible side of a Caterham or Westfield could be more satisfying. The torrent of information is almost intoxicating. Which could explain why I managed a magnificent 720degree spin on my last session of the day.

On a serious note, we found that after repeated hard braking the VX's ABS seemed to be triggering earlier and earlier, while actual braking power was significantly reduced. That said, it was never a problem on the road.

Mechanically it was hard to fault. Wonky ECU aside, it ran perfectly. The only costs were ΂£131 for the 10,000-mile service, ΂£136 for a new tyre after we collected a nail, ΂£6.95 for a can of tyre mousse, and half a litre of oil. The hood arrangement was a doddle once you'd sussed it, and the whole shebang slipped easily inside the usefully sized rear boot. Just a pity about the flaky trim.

In the right conditions it was as much fun as any road car I've driven, including supercars costing ten times as much. On the other hand, when the skies and roads turned grey and slimy and the temperature plummeted it was as awkward and flawed as any ragtop I can think of, Caterhams included. Hood up, wind noise at anything over 60mph made it hard to hear yourself think, let alone hear the weedy stereo. And getting in and out was a pain in the neck (and other places). For the first time in years, my wife would come to the front door in the morning to see me off ΂- or rather to watch me thread my less than athletic form inside. You had to laugh, apparently.

But then the VX was never as some described it ΂- a more habitable, refined version of the Elise. More exclusive, yes. And usefully quicker than the standard Lotus, thanks to its torquier motor. It looks sharper too ΂- I particularly like the profile, though I'm not sure about the snout or the lights.

You will have twigged by now that this is a summer fun car. Of course you could use it all year round, but if you could possibly afford to run two cars you'd have to be a masochist to choose the VX as everyday transport. So when the men came to take it back just after Christmas, there were no tears shed. It would have been different back in August ΂- they'd have had to catch me first.
There was just time for one more great drive ΂- when we took all our long-termers up to the North York Moors in December. Those two days encapsulated it all ΂- boring journeys with the hood up were just about bearable. Hood down on the right roads, I can honestly say it was as good as it gets. And I know that come the first sunny spring day I'm going to miss it like mad.