Focus RS, BMW M2, Aventador and other cars of the year

From a Ford pocket rocket to an adorably flawed Alfa and a brutal Lambo beast — here are my cars of the past 12 months.

My colleague James May calls it “the fizz”.

He says that when he’s driving a really good car, he gets a fizzing sensation in the root of his manhood. I have not experienced this myself, but I sort of know what he means.

When you drive a Ferrari 488 GTB round a corner on a racetrack, it doesn’t feel like a tool that you’re operating; it feels like an extension of your very self. You don’t know how you know when the front tyres are about to start sliding, but you do. And you know how to react.

Then you’re sweeping through the corner, on the raggedy edge, and it’s a rush. James May feels that in his underpants. I feel it at the back of my neck. Sometimes a Ferrari makes me shiver involuntarily.

When you look at a building and think, “That’s pretty”, an architect can explain why. It’s all to do with proportions. But no one can explain why some cars work and others don’t — why some cars are way, way more than the sum of their parts.

Fords and VWs use the same layout and the same basic components from the same suppliers, so why is the Fiesta ST better than the Polo GTI? That’s like trying to explain growl from under the bonnet. From $50,990 why, although humans are all made of the same stuff, you can end up with Nelson Mandela or Adolf Hitler.

I could not buy a car that wasn’t innately good. Unless, of course, it was extremely good looking. This is a human trait. What Leonardo DiCaprio needs is a good woman with child-bearing hips who will take care of him. But what he chooses instead is an endless succession of stick-thin underwear models. Which brings me to the Lamborghini Aventador. This is a car that doesn’t feel like an extension of your self. It feels like an excitable dog tugging at its leash. Its brakes are poor and the only way you know you have exceeded its limits of adhesion is when you crash into a tree. And yet it is such a spectacular thing to behold that you forgive it anything.

But this is the point. A car must have something to elevate it from the norm, be it speed, or the fizz, or styling to die for. Something that makes you excited every time you climb inside. Because if it doesn’t, then it’s just a tool. And if it’s just a tool, you may as well use the bus.

With that in mind, here’s my pick of the bunch from the past 12 months.

FORD FOCUS RS

In the’90s I had a Ford Escort RS Cosworth, a car that would go into anyone’s list of all-time greats. It was a working-class hero, a blue-collar bruiser that could mix it with the blue bloods; a Ford that could keep up with supercars that cost five times more. After the Cossie was dropped, though, Ford rather lost its way. Well, with the new Focus RS, you know straight away it has got the mojo back. Even at James May speeds, on a suburban roundabout, this car feels cleverer than is normal. It feels like a Nissan GT-R. And that’s because it uses one of the most advanced four-wheel-drive systems fitted to any car at any price. The 2.3-litre engine is less amazing, but even so, 345bhp is enough to provide a meaty shove in the back when you accelerate and a deep growl from under the bonnet.

From $50,990

ALFA ROMEO 4C COUPE

I’ve never driven a car that generated quite such an outpouring of affection as the Alfa Romeo 4C. Not ever. It was like I was whizzing around London in a reincarnated blend of Gandhi and Diana, Princess of Wales. The appeal is simple: it’s sporty, interesting and different, but it’s not even slightly threatening.

Think of it as a Ferrari puppy. Sadly, however, there are a few issues with the actual car. There is almost no rear visibility.

There’s a draught from the bottom of the doors. And then there’s the noise (around town it’s fun — it snuffles and roars and farts — but after an hour on the motorway I think my ears were actually bleeding). It’s a terrible car, riddled with the sort of faults that other firms had addressed by about 1972. And yet I adored it. Every other car, with its perfect refinement and its perfect electrics, cannot help but feel like a machine.

Whereas the Alfa, for all its flaws, feels human.

From $89,000

MERCEDES-AMG GT S

The SLS AMG was a stupid car for stupid show-offs, which probably explains why I liked it so much. Anyway, the latest GT sits on the same basic chassis as the SLS but costs $85,000 less.

You don’t get gull-wing doors (which is a good thing), and you don’t get the old 6.2-litre V8, but you do get a wondrous 4-litre V8 twin turbo. The GT S version weighs just over 1.5 tonnes, which is light for a car of this size, and it feels it — it’s almost unnerving. Because from the driver’s seat it’s like you’re sitting at the helm of a supertanker.

The bonnet is so vast that even when it arrives on time, you will be 20 minutes late. Think of it as a European muscle car. It’s Merc’s Mustang. You sense this when you drive it: it feels raw. Of all the cars in this bit of the market, the GT S would almost certainly be my choice.

From $294,600

LAMBORGHINI AVENTADOR

The Aventador is not the best supercar to drive. It feels big and heavy, and if you go for a hot lap of a racetrack you’d better not think about doing another, because the brakes will fade and then fail. But who cares? Nobody buys a supercar because they want to get round the Nurburgring in four seconds. Supercars are capable of 300km/h, but they’re bought mainly for doing 1 per cent of that speed in Knightsbridge. And when it comes to prowling, nothing looks quite as good as the big Lambo.

Yes, it’s soundly beaten in a straight line and round corners by the new hybrid hypercars, but while they make a range of unusual noises, they can’t compete with the visceral bellow of the T-rex that lives under the Aventador’s engine cover. Given the choice of any supercar, this is the one I’d buy. I admire McLaren’s P1. But which would you rather have as a pet: a clever and sophisticated electronic robot, or a bloody great brontosaurus?

From $880,000

VOLVO XC90

When the second-generation XC90 was brought round to my place, I thought, “It’s not much of a looker anymore.” My God, it’s big. Really big. But that pays dividends on the inside, where you now get a boot and seating for seven adults. Not five adults and a lot of moaning from the teenagers in the very back. And, ooh, it’s a nice place to sit. The dials, the textures, the air-cooled subwoofer are wonderful. It’s so simple, too:

there are only eight buttons on the dash because everything is controlled by what looks like an iPad. If you let the driving aids do their thing, it’s very relaxing, because the 2-litre engine is quiet and the ride is so soothing you could nod off. And you’d be fine, because it would wake you up if anything was wrong.

This is an ideal car for those who find the offerings from Land Rover — how can I put this? — a bit prattish.

From $89,950

FORD MUSTANG GT FASTBACK

Plainly, someone at Ford in Detroit was given an atlas for Christmas, because after 50 years or so of making the Mustang, the firm has decided to put the steering wheel on the correct side of the car.

Incredibly, this 250km/h American icon costs less than I paid for a VW Golf GTI. Inside, you can see where Ford has cut a few corners — I suspect the seat leather came from a polyurethane cow — but that’s about it. It’s billed as a sports car, but it isn’t; it’s a muscle car.

And you sense that straight away.

Powered by a 5-litre V8, this is a machine that wants to turn its tyres into smoke and go round corners sideways. You’ve seen the movie Bullitt. Well, it’s that.

From $58,000

FERRARI 488 GTB

Some say the 488 is not a proper Ferrari because it’s turbocharged. I get that. But let’s not forget that the best Ferrari of them all, the F40, used forced induction. And also let’s not forget that a modern engine management system means you simply don’t know that witchcraft is being used to pump fuel and air into the 488’s V8. It doesn’t even sound turbocharged. It sounds like a Ferrari. It sounds wonderful.

And, oh my God, it’s lovely to drive. You can potter about with the gearbox in automatic and it’s not uncomfortable or difficult in any way. That is probably Ferrari’s greatest achievement with the 488: to take something so highly tuned and highly strung and powerful and make it feel like a pussy cat. No other mid-engined car feels so friendly. As a driving machine, it’s — there’s no other word — perfect.

From $330,000

MAZDA MX-5 ROADSTER

Gravity didn’t come from a meeting. Neither did the Spitfire.

But most cars today come from meetings, and as a result they’re almost all yawn-mobiles. Not so the Mazda MX-5, though. The old model has been the world’s best-selling sports car for about 25 years, thanks to its combination of low price, ease of use and a smile-a-minute factor that’s up there alongside a game of naked Twister with Scarlett Johansson and Cameron Diaz. The new one is better than ever. Because it’s so organic and raw and simple, it feels how a sports car should. It sings and fizzes and jumps about. It feels eager and sprightly, and that makes you feel eager and sprightly too. It’s a cure for depression, this car, it really is. You just can’t be in a bad mood when you’re driving it.

From $34,990

BMW M2

I was overtaken by a Porsche 911 GTS going at about a million. And before I could even think, “Golly, that was quick”, a DB9 tore by at a million and one. It’s been a while since I’ve seen two cars really going for it on the public highway; I thought that had been killed off by speed cameras. I didn’t join in.

Well, not much. Coming off one roundabout, I put my foot down a bit, into the overboost zone of the M2’s turbocharged torque lake, and there’s no doubt it’s faster than both of the way more expensive GT cars. And not just in a straight line.

It’s also fast through the corners, and a complete delight. It’s so good that I actually dribbled with joy. I like the old M3, and I adore the current M6 Gran Coupe. And then there was the original, 286bhp M5. It looked like the sort of box that your chest freezer was delivered in but it went like a spaceship. That’s always been my favourite M car.

Until now.

From $89,900