Back in April I drove the new Aston Martin DB9 all the way to Monte Carlo and decided it was perfect. I loved every single part of every single detail, so I wrote a rave review, gave it five stars and toyed with the idea of actually buying one. But then along came a car magazine whose findings were rather different. They drove the DB9 on mountain roads, where they claimed it felt “leaden” and “floaty”. They said it flexed and crashed over bumps and speculated that it had been rushed into production before it was actually finished.

To make matters worse, this was Evo Magazine, whose road testers are talented and manly. So, alarmed that I’d perhaps missed something on my 900-mile motorway jaunt, I decided to put a DB9 on the track and see what’s what when you really let rip.

I began with the traction control device turned on, and almost immediately I could see that the chaps at Evo had a point. The whole car seemed to squirm in the corners. There was no poise, no delicacy, and with the back-end tied down by an electronic straitjacket the front was all over the shop.

But traction control always does this to a car, so I pushed the button to turn it off . . . and nothing happened. So I pushed it again, a bit harder, and with a slight sucking noise the whole caboodle disappeared into the dashboard.

This was annoying, but worse was to come, because, having fished it out with a handy pair of artery forceps, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Instead of it being a simple switch, a device that connects two wires when you push it and disengages them when you push it again, there was a whole circuit board in there and two locating stubs the size of human hairs. It looked like the kind of thing you might find in an ECG machine, or a space probe. So, with a lot of a harrumphing, I left the job of reassembling it with an assistant and climbed into the car — the Ariel Atom.

None of the buttons could possibly go wrong in this car because — apart from the one used to start it — it doesn’t have any. Mind you, it has no bodywork either. Those tubes you see are its chassis, so what we have here is the world’s first exoskeletal car. A sort of beetle-cum-Pompidou Centre. What we have here is also a lesson in how cars work, because as you drive along you can actually see the mechanical parts moving around.

From the driver’s seat you can see the steering system, the brakes, the inside of the wheels and the double-wishbone suspension absorbing the bumps. What you cannot see are the wasps and the bees, until you smash into them at 90mph. Also, because there is no mirror, you can’t see yourself, which means you have no idea what the hurricane is doing to your face. As you can see from the pictures, it’s doing quite a lot. After only a few minutes my normally florid complexion had begun to resemble Florida. And you know what? I didn’t care because this car — if you can call it that — is motoring nirvana.

Because there is no bodywork (actually, because there is no anything) it weighs less than 500kg, which in automotive terms is an ounce. It makes a Lotus Elise look like Terry Wogan. You could fit such a thing with the engine from a motorised pepper grinder and it would go like Apollo 8, but in fact it uses the VTEC motor from a Honda Civic. And not the weedy 190bhp unit from the Type R either, but a full Japanese-spec version with 220bhp. So that means you’ re getting 440bhp per tonne, and that’s about 100 more than you get from a Lamborghini Murciélago.

Obviously it has lousy aerodynamics, so the top speed is around 135mph, but the time it takes to achieve this is simply mind-boggling: 0-60mph, for instance, is dealt with in just 3.5sec.

If that sounds scary, they’re working on a supercharged version that won’t ripple your face so much as tear it off.

We’re talking motorbike performance here, and real motorbike thrills. But because the Atom has four wheels it won’t fall over when you leave it alone, you don’t have to wear a helmet, and rubber fetish clothes are not de rigueur.

Of course, when I first drove the Atom it was a lovely sunny day. The thermometer was nudging 80F and I was on a track, kissing the apexes perfectly because I could actually see the point where the wheel touches the road, and holding power slides until I was bored with them. Honestly, I felt like a toddler who’s just seen his first zoo animal.

But the acid test would come on the road, so I tweaked the suspension to make it a bit softer — you only need a spanner — and ventured into the real world.

Because the Atom looks like a racing car, it seems at home on the track, but in a village it causes people to drop their shopping. And out in the countryside it is every bit as much fun as the photographs suggest. It is Absolut motoring at its frenzied best.

Maybe the front’s a little bit floaty and maybe the brakes could be a touch more powerful. And maybe I should have put on a full-face helmet because running into a cloud of dust kicked up by a passing juggernaut at 60mph really hurts. But with the engine air intake trying to suck my left ear off, and the wind wreaking Jamaica-style havoc with my hair, I kept bursting into spontaneous laughter. You would too.

Of course you wouldn’t want to have a crash because this car has never had any impact tests carried out. Thanks to Britain’s unique Single Vehicle Approval system, small car firms can bypass all the European Union regulations, and that’s why we have so many such firms in this country.

Ariel is one of the smallest. Started up in Somerset four years ago by a former teacher, it has only seven employees who make just 30 cars a year.

Don’t worry, though, about buying a car from something that isn’t even big enough to be labelled a cottage industry. The engine and gearbox come straight from Honda and are bolted in place, so it’s extremely unlikely they’ll go wrong. And you can’t worry about the trim falling off or squeaking, because there isn’t any.

It really is just a chassis, an engine, four wheels and a surprisingly comfortable plastic seat. Oh, and a front-mounted boot that is easily big enough for a small bread roll. The only really complex part, it seems, is the adjustable suspension. But as it’s supplied by Bilstein, you don’t have to worry about that, either.

I think the best thing about this car, though, is the way it looks. It’s as cool as a Philippe Starck juicer, as tempting as any of the brushed aluminium toys you find in an airport gadget shop. But unlike rechargeable underwater currency converters, I doubt you’d ever be bored with what it can do.

In terms of sheer thrills, the Atom is easily a match for the Porsche Carrera GT, and that makes its £19,999 starting price (for the 160bhp version) look almost ludicrously low. That’s yet another reason why I have no hesitation in giving the Atom five stars.

Which brings me back to the DB9, one of the few others to have been awarded this accolade. With its computerised traction control switch repaired using Blu-Tack and gaffer tape, I turned off the electronic nanny and set off once again.

Compared with the Atom, it felt huge and stodgy, but against other leather-lined luxury expresses it was magical. I honestly do not know what Evo is on about, because with the back-end freed up it was transformed into a growling, balanced, grand-touring wonder car.

I still think it’s perfect, but after my introduction to one-cal motoring, I do wish it was just a little bit simpler.

VITAL STATISTICS

Model: Ariel Atom 2 (220bhp)
Engine type: Four-cylinder, 1998ccV12, 5935cc
Power: 220bhp @ 8200rpm
Torque: 145lb ft @ 6100rpm
Transmission: Six-speed manual, rear-wheel drive
Acceleration: 0-60mph: 3.5sec (estimated)
Top speed: 135mph
Tyres: (front) 195/50 R15, (rear) 225/45 R16
Fuel: 27mpg (estimated)
Weight: under 500kg
Price: £24,000
Verdict: A blast of fresh air - motoring at its frenzied best

Explore Driving

• Jeremy Clarkson

• New Car Reviews

• Used Car Reviews

• News

• Features

• In The Showroom

• Buying Guide

• Car Clinic