Three times I have walked up to the Camaro – three times I have walked up to the wrong door. I’m used to driving left-hookers after living in France but something as wide as the Chevrolet is quite a handful through an English high street!
The 6.2-litre V8 is actually quite refined around town, well unless you factor in the 12mpg that is. Be warned though, the slightest press of the accelerator lifts the bonnet and sends the American surging forward.
Unlike a Ferrari or Aston Martin, the Camaro doesn’t let out a highly-tuned squeal when you do decide to make progress. It’s more of a gut grumble, or as a famous motoring writer once penned of TVR exhaust pipes, ‘like two lesbians moaning in a bucket’.
Despite the ridiculous stripes over the car, the retro looks and in-your-face image, the Chevrolet is quite civilised on a day to day basis. If only they made a right hand-drive it would be even more feasible. That and a following petrol tanker…