Mini Cooper S

Would suit Well, I wouldn't say no
Price £16,000 (but the extras can easily take it over £20k)
Performance 140mph, 0-62mph in 7.1 seconds
Combined fuel economy 40.9mpg
Further information 08000 836 464

Of all the cars I drive, you'd think it would be the Lamborghinis and Ferraris that would be most of a wrench to part with, but it is often a relief to see them go. On the other hand, I was reduced to a wailing, grief-stricken mucus ball when they took the new Mini Cooper S away. It is one of the most endearing and spunky cars I have driven this year. Make that ever.

Though you might not guess to look at it, this is an entirely new car. Back in 2001 when BMW launched the New Mini Mk I, one wondered how the company could ever improve on this clever retro update of Alec Issigonis's masterpiece. That's the thing with retro stuff: being anchored in the past does tend to hinder future development.

I put this to the car's designer a couple of years later at the launch of the convertible in the south of France. He just smiled, tapped the side of his nose and said, "Oh don't you worry about that, we've got plenty of ideas." (If I didn't know any better I would have said he was arrogant, but the man was German and they just don't have it in them, do they?)

Nevertheless, I defy anyone not sleeping with a member of the Mini design team to spot the difference between the 2001 and 2006 models. I take my responsibilities regarding this page seriously and have found out that the latest Mini has a higher, restyled face and it is a little longer. The model I tried has more prominent chrome flashes below the A-pillar. And that's it (which certainly wasn't worth sleeping with a German to find out, I can tell you).

So why am I so doolally about the thing? I started going gooey the moment I saw the interior, which boasts more original ideas in the design of its key alone (it is like a giant chocolate Minstrel and slots into a docking port in the dash), than all the interiors of the entire Volkswagen range combined. BMW has turned the volume up on the car's Mini-ness, so there is a bewildering array of groovy toggle switches, multi-coloured adjustable "vodka bar" lighting, and a speedo the size of a dustbin lid, slap bang in the middle of the dashboard (the needle obscures the numbers it is pointing at, so figuring out how fast you are travelling becomes a process of elimination, but it looks great).

My infatuation reached Abelard/ Heloise pitch when I took the new Mini for a drive. Forget the "purists" who complain that BMW Minis have none of the character of the original. I used to have a 1969 Cooper and, much as I loved it, it was exhausting. The new New Mini, with its all-new 1.6-litre aluminium engine (developed with Peugeot) is refined, smooth and pacey. A car this size could never be as nimble as the original, but the electronic steering is quick and precise, and the easy-shifting six-speed gearbox, perky throttle and torque-y engine invite cog-dropping the moment a space opens up before you. Especially impressive is the way BMW's engineers have married that sportiness with such a comfortable ride.

The new version of the Mini went on sale yesterday, which is also the 100th anniversary of Issigonis's birth. My motoring journalist's cynical sixth sense tells me that you might be well advised to wait a few months for BMW to sort out any quality issues that might arise but, aside from that - and I hope I'm proved wrong - I don't care what the purists say: Issigonis could only have been impressed.

It's a classic: The Mini

The Mini is the greatest car ever made. I can hear crazed Citroën DS owners sharpening their green crayons already, but consider this: when it was launched in 1959, much of the rest of the world was driving cars that still had external wheel arches and running boards.

Almost half a century later, when the last one was built, it was still one of the most enjoyable cars in the world to drive, and still the most brilliantly packaged car in the world.

It is easy to forget just how radical Alec Issigonis' front-drive, transverse-engined car was but, for just £496, the first owners had a car that could carry four adults in relative comfort yet took up little more space than a pram; a car whose rubber cone suspension was extremely smooth and comfortable, yet it could still beat far more powerful rivals on a racetrack; and a car that was both profoundly ugly yet enduringly endearing.

There were 5.5 million Minis made, and it was declared the Car of the Century. The new Mini has a lot to live up to...