As a couple, the Clubman and I have gone about as far as we can go

This feels like the end of a relationship. Although the Clubman and I have about another month together before the farewells, the truth is we’ve gone about as far as we can go as a couple. And it hasn’t included much growing together.

I could say that I tried to put myself in the shoes of the typical Clubman owner but, outside of the circus community, I don’t think they exist. The notion that you are what you drive has never made me feel more nervous. I mean, I know we all have our psychological quirks and ticks, but the thought process that would have led me to buy a Mini Cooper S stymied aesthetically and dynamically by the addition of ungainly, awkwardly asymmetric and depressingly gimmick-laden extra bodywork continues to elude me. In fact, thinking about it gives me the shudders.

But, you know what? I shall be sorry to see it go. Because despite being dumped on by the strange predilections of BMW’s marketing department, the irrepressible spirit and personality of the Cooper S bit still shines a bright light through all the garbage. The truth is, I still look forward to driving the ugly little spud, and a lot of that is down to the turbocharged 1.6-litre engine, which never fails to raise a smile when the overboost-enhanced torque kicks in, even if it tries to wrench the steering wheel from my hands.

Despite this, the front tyres (Dunlop SP Sports) are wearing well, as is the interior in the absence of any pampering from me. Which makes the rate at which the front fog light cowlings are shedding metallic blue paintwork (it’s simply bubbling off and peeling away from the black plastic beneath) all the more disappointing.