Many moons ago, before I was old enough to really appreciate such things, I was a frequent passenger in a Porsche 911 Carrera Sport Targa. The school run, family shopping, day-trips to the coast, trying to convince my brother to stand up as we zipped along country lanes… all these seemingly mundane activities were accomplished in the sporty little car that blew a gigantic raspberry at the Audi Avant that served as our second car.  Sure, it may not have been able to compete with the space and family function offered by the Audi, but my word it was fun to be in. So I’m biased. I like Porsche. If I had the cash I would buy a different model for every day of the week, in a range of colours so I could cut a dash in a mobile mood ring. But that would be silly (think of...

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