325D Final installment - Ubi
After a eight years of Tiptronic with the "wrong way round" gearchange I have developed an alarming, and potentially expensive, habit of clubbing the paddles in the wrong direction in the 3 series. At a busy roundabout, starting in 1st (M1), this results in no gear change whatsoever and the engine revving in a way which doesn't sound especially designed in. I should just knock it back into D and let it be an auto.

Instead I panic and back off the gas. With engine braking this immediately brings the car almost to a complete standstill without benefit of brake lights. Consulting the rear mirror I notice that the bonnet of the car behind has taken a sudden dive. With luck this might prevent intimacy. I see also with growing disappointment that I have all but stopped in the face of two lanes of traffic oncoming at a good clip. I have the presence of mind to wonder whether I should be driving at all, let alone in an "ultimate driving machine" which is too clever for me by half.

Turn the steering wheel to the left and the car turns left. Same on the other side. So, accurate steering then but not uniquely so. The Audi did that too. It would be a concern if turned in opposition to the direction of input but it hasn't done this so far. I hope this is not something I should anticipate.

Nor has it once broken away from me going round a roundabout at a rakish 20mph so the myth of their being twitchy is clearly debunked.

Press the gas and it goes forward unless I have selected the wrong gear, in which case it lurches backwards, twisting the lawnmower. Press the brake and it stops. Rather abruptly in fact. A driver's car then. Intermittently I forget why I bought it after conducting a love/hate relationship with driving for years.

Reverse parking at work has become something of a spectator sport. I can't see the bay lines in the mirrors and so far have not worked out how to get the passenger mirror to drop automatically when reverse gear is selected. The Audi mirrors were much larger and exposed a bigger field of view so I could reverse it lorry style into shoebox.

Selecting the passenger mirror toggle seems too simplistic an approach. But selecting the driver's one doesn't work either. Perhaps I have been defrauded of this feature by the manufacturer because I only paid £30k for a car the size of a Ford Escort and if I really wanted some comfort and convenience I should have spent £60k. I vaguely recall that one of the other cars I test drove had huge mirrors. Unhelpfully, I can't remember which one.

I only ever see my parking results after getting out of the car and on a hit or miss basis these have taken the form of straddling two spaces, sometimes diagonally, or describing the hypotenuse of a right angled triangle between two lines. Defying probability, so far it has not once resulted in a straight entry to the required space. I arrive at my cubie daily to, variously, ironic applause, insincere empathy or/and my colleagues holding up improvised ice skating type marker boards with low integers ascribed. They are uniformly true petrol heads. One has two Maseratis, one bought new last September, and a new Ferrari acquired this Christmas. (To my secret delight, it broke down after 100 miles and was taken away on a transporter) Those are just the cars he admits to. When I tell him I bought a diesel for the economy he looks at me with contempt and pity.

So far my favourite feature is the boot, which is full of secret compartments and bins cleverly concealing the absence of a spare wheel of any description. The trick is to get a puncture then drive straight to Costco and spend £250 replacing the holed tyre and the other one on the same axle. It's an economy measure. The handbook is a bit sniffy about repairing the run flats, implying that your sort will probably repair them anyway and be it on your own head.

It's not that I'm prissy about it or anything. In a six acre car park I only park it so far away from harm it takes me ten minutes to walk to the store entrance. So far in fact that I uncharacteristically forego a pound rather than hitch hike back with the trolley. When I come back a gull has christened it. Mega. With difficulty I suppress truly murderous thoughts of returning with a .22 and instead invest in Microfibre Wash Mits which are apparently made from something. Curiously enough they're sold in fours, which causes me to wonder if you're meant to put them on your feet as well. Perhaps you're meant to pick the best two and throw the others away.

It has made me friends though. Strangers have taken to tooting friendly greetings to me at traffic lights. I have a geekish tendency to get absorbed in the iPod/Radio/OBC interface when stopped. Ten seconds might go by where I have no idea that the lights have changed. I look up and think "Oh yeah" and notice that people have started driving around me, offering friendly advice behind their glass with their teeth showing. Everyone seems in such a hurry these days.

Idling around the garden this fine spring weekend. Wander into the garage and impulsively check the oil level. Disappointment: it's on minimum already. Strange, if I knew how to make one of these things I'd put in a lot at the start. Poke around shelves in the garage. Find some Castrol Magnatec bought years ago for the Audi, never used. That car could not be persuaded to consume oil under any circumstances. Experience pangs of doubt. How long does this stuff last? Recall that it's been around for about 4 billion years. Wonder if another five minutes will make that much difference? Look up HJ. Skillions of advice from folks more knowledgeable than me. On balance it seems inadvisable to chance it. When in doubt spend money. Consult BMW manual. Page 127 solemnly intones that only BMW approved oil should be entertained. Rack what remains of brain. No data whatsoever on subject of BMW approved oil. Not convinced that progress is being made. Search for BMW approved oil. Spend a very long time on this subject. Fail to purchase required oil during entire weekend. Fail to purchase required oil during six abortive visits to "stockists". One after establishing in advance by telephone that they have stock.

Ultimate driving machine? Well it might be I suppose. Don't know how to tell, really. Imagine you'd have to drive them all and then do a sort of quiz. Which motor car manufacturer best facilitates hand signals? What model of car has the best crank handle to operate? The electrical points of which motor car are considered least accessible? Which exhaust manifold.... Loose talk costs lives. Eat up your greens. Might not bother.

It is a small, calm motor car which seems able to keep up with the traffic, has comfortable but not yet soggy suspension, horrible audio and is reasonably frugal. Just like the Accord I test drove two years ago, except that in the Honda I could have happily listened to anything from the Zeppelin to Pagganini without feeling like ending it all.

The BMW distinguishes itself by being twice the price of course.