I like cars. I’ve had a few, I know enough to bluff a little and I can appreciate a gem of a motor, but I’m no expert. Bear that in mind as you read on and learn next to nothing about what is, undoubtedly, one of the finest cars in the world.

There’s been a great deal of debate about whether Bentley should have resurrected the Speed badge, with its racing heritage. I couldn’t care less if Bentley call it the Continental Flying Nutsack; when the opportunity arose to get my hands on the Continental GT Speed, I was all over it like a tramp on chips.

At this stage I ought to wax lyrical about this 200mph+ beauty and the smooth W12 engine. The fact is until today I thought W12 was Shepherds Bush. If you want technical info, you’ll be better off Googling. 

I had this baby for a week and it surprised me in so many ways. Not only in its performance and handling, but in its ability to continually draw stares. Londoners are famously aloof and wouldn’t be caught dead admiring a car, but not in this case. I unwittingly caused a jam at Parliament Square. Tourists stopped in the middle of crossings to take photos. I was hemmed in by pedestrians peering in hoping to see Pink Floyd, Chelsea FC and Brangelina in the back sharing a crack pipe. I drove this car for a week until I had to peel my hands from the wheel. It never felt out of place, the world smiled back at me and I’m pretty sure some hair grew back on my bald patch.

So, my verdict. It’s a truly beautiful car, really. Its faster than you’ll probably ever want to go (if you want to go faster buy a race car). If every Premiership footballer bought one tomorrow, I’d still want one. That’s all you need to know.