Best & worst Bond cars

THREE RULES: NO LAZENBY, NO WET NELLIE ESPRIT AND NO ASTON DB5. GO

for $10.2 million at auction; a real-world example in Australia would fetch north of $1 million, but expect to see the letters POA on most for-sale ads. This isn’t the kind of information anyone needs floating around their head before escorting such a valuable slice of automotive history onto an icy English track…

We head into the Stowe circuit’s first corner in the DB5 too quickly, forgetting it’s a fiftysomething grand dame without the luxury of power steering, ABS brakes, or any of the other modern technology that fools the average man into thinking he’s got skills. Like all venerable older ladies, she demands to be treated with respect.

The gorgeous DB5 is clearly suited to theatrical arrivals outside St Tropez casinos, not track work; the seat is too close to the large, boat-like wooden steering wheel; the floor-hinged pedals are positioned at an awkward angle; bodyroll can be alarming at times. But making allowances for its age, and the level of technology available to

Aston in that era, the DB5 remains a classy piece of engineering. The 290kW, naturally aspirated straightsix produces a lovely rorty note when pushed along Stowe’s straights. And although the DB5 is no slouch

– its 8.1 seconds from 0-100km/h made it one of the fastest production cars in the world in its time – this is a grand tourer designed to be driven at sensible speeds, a reminder of the days when life itself moved at a more refined pace.

The same cannot be said of its stunt-car cousin. Side by side, it’s virtually impossible to tell the difference between the replica and the original, save for the roll cage visible through the windows. But that’s where the DNA strands are snipped.

We’re strapped into the race harness, sink into the bucket seats, then blast onto the track, revelling in the stiffer spaceframe structure, the Ohlins rally suspension, the 500kg that’s been shaved from the original’s 1500kg weight. With its Herculean front-end grip, corners are now welcomed, not feared. There’s a huge hydraulic handbrake, which we’ve been warned not to touch, but the temptation is strong; almost worth an Aston life ban. It’s a deflating moment when we’re flagged into Stowe’s pit, a gentle reminder that other people want to play, too.

In the afternoon, as the weak winter sun dips towards the horizon, we jump into the two remaining Bond movie cars; the imposing Aston Martin V8, and the surprisingly chuckable DBS Superleggera. But when the time comes for the handful of assembled journalists to pick a favourite, it’s a simple two-way contest between the DB5s. What a pair of cars. What a day.

Just when we think it’s all over, a familiar face walks into the Aston test centre. His skin is a few tones pastier and now free of spots. We didn’t get to see him drift into an Italian piazza, but Mark Higgins is about to do something perhaps more thrilling: treat us to a hot lap in the DB5 stunt car.

Higgins, like all great driving artisans, approaches corners at ludicrous speeds, braking about a fortnight later than most would dare. He drifts around the first 180-degree turn in a perfect arc, no discernible break in momentum. Over the next whirlwind minute, he squeezes every last drop of performance from a car he’s got to know intimately over the previous months on the Bond set. At no time do you feel terror, only pure uncut exhilaration. The real Daniel Craig is in safe hands.