I don’t normally give cars nicknames. With the Zed, however, I’m tempted to call it The Tank. Not because of its size or muscularity, but as an abbreviation of sensory deprivation tank. Yep, that’s right — and it’s not a good thing. The test-drive concerns I had about the 350Z being too comfortable a car are still with me. Except now, I’ve translated that nebulous feeling of unease into a sense that it simply doesn’t provide enough feedback. Journeys at night and in wet weather can be absolutely exhausting. I find myself trying to heighten my senses to the tiniest cues coming through the steering wheel, chassis and pedals. Often I’ll end up leaning forward in my seat, as if listening to a quiet friend in a noisy pub. Thankfully, however, it’s not like that all the time. When you put your foot down and hustle it a bit, the car starts talking again. You begin to feel you’re dictating things rather than reacting to them. Sadl...
So, the VX220 ticked all of the ’fun’ boxes, but neither of the sensible-shoes boxes. How will the 350Z fare? On the surface, the strongest card the 350Z holds is its kerb appeal. It’s subjective, but to me, the car is a work of art. Perfectly proportioned, and beautiful from every angle. Its attractiveness is not the only string to its bow, however. It’s pretty quick too, even if it is just shy of my ideal 6.0secs to 100km/h. It holds the road pretty nicely too, based on my 2 test-drives. And it’s a tin-top, which is definitely my preference; greater structural rigidity and no faffing with a leaky and/or awkard roof. Crucially, I can even get in the 350Z with a helmet on - a requirement that’s ruled out plenty of other contenders. When it comes to practicality, however, it’s another compromise. The boot is suitable for long weekends away, but that’s about it. Just as with the VX220, you can forget about trips to B&Q. But then, I...