So good that whatever they were working on will only be playing catch-up once it's ready to be launched, so sod it, they might as well pat the designers on the back right now, give them a gold watch, flick the lights off on the way out and pocket the development money, because they'll never see it recouped.

The latest Mercedes SL is one of those cars that you know rival manufacturers detest because it's plainly too good. So good that whatever they were working on will only be playing catch-up once it's ready to be launched, so sod it, they might as well pat the designers on the back right now, give them a gold watch, flick the lights off on the way out and pocket the development money, because they'll never see it recouped.

With the SL55 AMG it's not only Jaguar, Porsche, Lexus and Aston that must be thinking this; even Ferrari is having to adjust its ideas. For here is a car that can do it all: 200mph, a convertible or coup΃© at the touch of a button, and an automatic, all for ΂£89,000. It's just not cricket, really.

I was lucky enough to get a sneak preview of the car a couple of years ago and inadvertently ended up ordering one. I wish I was as good at selling cars as I am at buying them, but that's another story.

Months passed and it soon came time to spec it up. The SL55 has a pretty comprehensive standard spec, but I managed to add: soft Nappa leather, ΂£2310; Keyless-Go, ΂£970; Parktronic, ΂£775; tyre pressure monitor, ΂£470; panoramic glass roof, ΂£1390; and hands-free phone, ΂£590. Grand total ΂£94,475. Gulp. Never did see a colour chart, which seemed a bit strange - I wanted the car but did the dealer, Pinneys of Harpenden, really want my order? Good job I'd already decided on solid black.

I took delivery in August and was given a full run-through by the guy who delivered it. The car seemed faultless, the only thing to catch my eye being the aluminum trim for the dash which looked horribly cheap and tacky, but as far as I know there's no alternative. Interior trims are something Mercedes has had trouble with for years and it doesn't seem to be getting any better. The rest of the car was astonishing. I loved it in black, and the spoked wheels looked so distinctive, nicely matching the silver side-slats. To drive it exceeded my best expectations. Running-in was hardly a chore and that amazing roof was up and down all summer.

It's only now summer's gone that a few glitches are starting to show.

The first time I thought it was me. The second time it happened I wasn't so sure, but by the third time I was furious. It was this: I'd leave the car outside in the rain for a few hours, visiting a restaurant, say, and when I returned all four windows would be fully down. The whole interior including the seats would be drenched, as would we be once we'd sat on them. I wasn't impressed. Nor was I the next day when the dash screamed in red 'Visit workshop!' with a battery symbol displayed there as well. Were the two things connected?

I rang Pinneys to check if it was all right to drive the car and was put through to the service desk. The extension rang, and then rang some more, and eventually I got an answer machine on which I left a curt message. When I hadn't heard back after three hours I tried again; still no-one answered, so I left another message for them to ring me immediately. Guess the response - nothing.

So the next morning I dropped in. There appeared to be three people manning the service desk, yet yesterday none of them had bothered to ring me back. Customer service seemed to be an alien concept. When questioned about my calls they shrugged and said there weren't any messages, no apology given. Christ, I expect better than this after spending ΂£95,000 at their dealership.

Then it turned out my car wasn't on the system, as it had never been entered. Oh, and there was no service book in the encyclopedic 734-page pack previously known as an owner's manual. Had they even done the PDI check, I wondered, but the computer couldn't tell me. Still, I was told that if I brought the car back tomorrow the faults would be looked at. Worryingly, they'd heard of the windows winding down on their own accord in other models, so they seemed to know what to look for. Unsurprisingly, no courtesy car was offered at any time.

This sort of episode does take some of the gloss off the ownership experience. I'll let you know if they managed to fix it in next month's report.