The Grass Illusion.

The thing about quality is that perception is everything. You don’t know that the grass is greener until you’ve been over to the other side. Just as the one-eyed man is emperor in the land of the blind, so in the land of the unfortunate Janet Street-Porter is a sex queen.

Take a real-world example – on the way down to almost Gatwick airport yesterday to learn about the wonderful world of Toyota’s hybrid powertrains, my car was wonderful – responsive, yet comfortable, perky when it came to overtaking manoeuvres on the motorway and just comfortable enough to not need a chiropractor riding in the back seat. On the way home, it had transformed into a complete crapwagon.

Why? £97,000 of Lexus. I had a quick sit in the back of the LS600h, a hybrid superwagon for captains of industry. I allowed the seats to massage my back and used a remote control to switch my own personal television on and put the sunblinds up on my window. I got in the front of the car and after six or seven minutes of trying to work out how to get the thing started I realised it had been on the whole time and glided away in super-stealthy battery mode. I had a go in a two tonne Lexus SUV and an incredibly sporty mid-size hybrid executive saloon. All designed to cosset, comfort and empower an admittedly wealthy driver.

My £500 Volvo sports car that was built by some Dutch people 16 years ago never really had a chance. On the way home it was loud and uncouth – the clacking from the road sounded like a rollercoaster being pulled up a hill, I had to work the gearstick like a straw in the bottom of a frappuccino to try and find some power from its wheezy Renault engine whilst cursing its arthritic controls that seem designed specifically to target the cartilage in your knee joints.