One last walk around the car to take in its absolute newness - it'll never look this spotless again however hard I try - confirms how well Porsche has done with this latest take on the 911 theme. The new car is altogether more taut and muscular than the 996 version which preceded it. I'm not sure how sad this makes me but I spend a few minutes admiring the chrome headlight washers. Very Art Deco. In fact, before I finish on this particular subject, I think I'll climb on my soapbox to take a few swings at all those people who twitter on about Porsche lacking imagination in not changing the 911's styling more. Why would they? I don't hear people complaining about Aston Martin's gorgeous DB9 - only a few tweaks away from the last umpteen Astons, and does anyone have a problem with Isabella Rossellini looking like her old mum Ingrid Bergman?

The Carrera's cold start gargling has smoothed out and easing out the clutch and moving off instantly confirms that this is a Porsche. Everything is fist tight, each control having an instant effect on the rest of the car. No slack - just purpose.

A few blips of the throttle reveal a much more rasping exhaust note than that of the non S version and, even restricted to a 3000rpm limit for the first 1000 miles, I can sense the solid grunt of the 3.8 flat-six behind me. Surprisingly, this car feels like a wholly different experience to my Boxster S. There already seems to be much more depth and sheer presence and even after a handful of miles I'm happy that I've got at least my money's worth for the extra ΂£25,000.

After an overnight stop in Baden Baden, where the overrated Hotel Belle ...poque serves to remind me that finding a really good top-end hotel in Germany is nigh on impossible, we are over the border and into France, still restricted to a very relaxed cruise. I always forget how rare anything out of the ordinary is on the roads in France and, whilst not a Ferrari or Zonda, the 997 has cars pulling alongside to check it out, getting appreciative nods from dads and grins and the thumbs-up from kids in the back. It's like using up some of those 15 minutes of fame that Andy Warhol promised me and, I won't deny, it's a good feeling.

Prowling round the narrow streets of Troyes looking for our next overnight stop, the Porsche's exhaust note sounds great bouncing off the wet cobbles and trapped between the ancient timbered buildings. Outside Le Champ des Oiseaux, our hotel for the night - and one that I can recommend - I park next to a pristine mid-'60s Porsche 356 Coupe. It almost seems to have been waiting for its young relative to arrive.

A day later, pulling away from the Chunnel, the history lesson is complete when I see a Carrera GT behind us. We swap places on the M20 for a while before he gets bored and disappears.

So, first impressions are good and by the time I've popped down to supplying dealers Porsche Centre, Exeter, to have the German plates replaced with UK ones, those tedious first 1000 miles have passed. Now to find out what living with the car in the real world is like...