First, though, I had to drive it to the Cotswolds. Coming from Scotland, I’m not familiar with the area, but I quickly found out why it has such a reputation for a mixture of motorway, village and sweeping country roads: the holy trinity for quickly learning about a car.
On the motorway, it was so very planted; in sleepy little villages, it was quiet and understated enough to only rouse attention from a cyclist (who loved it, by the way); and on the country roads around
Enstone, it made me realise why so many people love driving there. It let me savour every turn and every straight with point-and-shoot poise and sheepdog get-up-and-go.
Prepare yourself, however, for some criticism.
The steering is too numb: I found myself turning into bends and guessing how many locks I had to put on, and at speeds that were higher than normal (but still within legal limits), that’s not something you ever want to be unsure of.
While I’m criticising, the engine to me isn’t worth the extra money over a standard 3.0-litre straight six from Munich. Don’t get me wrong, it’s an extremely efficient lump, with bigger turbochargers and meatier internals to make it sound meaner, but it doesn’t feel any different to even a previous-generation 335d (a model with which I’m quite familiar).
I did also get slightly irked by the Bluetooth failing to connect to my phone after so many tries that I had to give up. A shame, since BMW’s sixth-generation iDrive is otherwise a very slick and intuitive system. Make no mistake, none of these hairs should put you off what is otherwise a tasty soup. If you’re tempted by one, though, do try it first.
Anyway, onwards through the country and back to London, where I needed to pick up a rare romantic interest. We decided to go for a walk somewhere near Windsor, which meant we needed transport, and I thought the D3 S would make a great companion, being luxuriously trimmed, feeling nicely damped in Comfort Plus driving mode and having a very good (but not overpowering) stereo.