I still remember the sheer joy of the thing;...it cornered like nothing else I had ever driven. What if the gear lever flapped about like a swashbuckler's cutlass? What if the seats were made from paving slabs? The tiny engine was so out of date that it was already museum-worthy, but it revved its little heart out and added to the impression of speed. The suspension, if indeed there was any, was so useless that it was vital to avoid even the tiniest pothole, but the steering was so responsive that such manoevres were part of the joy. I had borrowed it for a day, and I kept thinking of excuses to go out again. When it was parked on the driveway, I would go to the front window of the house and gawp at it in admiration. I had experienced the manifestation of genius. The 848cc BMC Mini!!!