Caterham 620S

Character comes in many forms, but all that have it share one thing in common: an ability to stimulate the senses. Character can be derived from providing a feast for the eyes or, in an engine’s timbre, the ears. Or a car can just feel right or even smell right. There are few things capable of imparting a greater sense of well-being than the aroma of Connolly hide in an old Aston or similar.

Hopefully, any car of character will present some combination of the above, and it is because modern manufacturers seek perpetually to distance the driver from the sensations of driving that new cars with true character are an endangered species.

It’s not about the money. My proudest possession in my accumulation of cheap and unimportant old cars is a 1958 2CV, which has more character in its rippled bonnet than most modern supercars have in total. When things get tough, I go and drive it because to date I have proven entirely unable to be unhappy and at its wheel at the same time.

It proves also that the greater imparter of character is feel. The more connected you are, the more work the car gives you to do, the more character it will have. Which is why there are no cars of greater character on sale today than those that make up the small British sports car industry. As a pure product, I know none better than an Ariel Atom, but Caterhams have an additional character-enhancing historical perspective thanks to their Colin Chapman connection.

So if I had to choose a modern car for character alone, I’d probably plump for a 620S.