The Rapide and I are on the way to London this morning. It’s never an ordinary day driving an Aston but there’s something extra orgasmic about the lesser-spotted Rapide.

What you see in the photograph above doesn’t do the car justice. No, not at all. You have to catch yourself driving it in a polished shop window to fully appreciate the presence of a Rapide.

And Porsche Panamera drivers just hate it. I’ve passed three on the M40 and you can see them doggedly trying not to stare. This is what they should have bought – admittedly secondhand but so much better.

The Panamera was always an ugly mother but next to the Aston it looks like a bucket of poo.

I can’t stop driving the Rapide. It’s as gorgeous as the Maserati Quattroporte, which is saying something indeed…