A mystery tour to try some of BMW best beasts? Andrew Hamilton couldn't resist - and Justin Hynes came too and got the cream
It was like the mystery trains which CIÉ ran 40 years ago. A strange group assembled at Dublin Airport for a special flight to "a unique entertainment venue" where they would "experience something a little different". All we knew was that this would be motor-related because the invitation came from BMW's new Irish company, officially known as BMW Automotive (Ireland) Limited.
The party were dealers, some valued customers, motoring media and at least one VIP, Lochlann Quinn, industrialist, ex-AIB chairman and Ferrari owner who hasn't been in a BMW cockpit for years.
We were told to bring passports, but it didn't seem the destination would be on the European mainland. This was confirmed by the monitor: our flight was going to Nottingham in middle merry England.
We touched down at the former East Midlands airport about 10 a.m. and were soon off on a 90-minute coach trip to our "unique entertainment venue". It turned out to be Rockingham, a vast arena capable of taking 52,000 seated spectators, and probably a model for the ultimate Bertie Bowl.
Although used for concerts, Rockingham is primarily a motor sport venue. Its pièce de résistance is an oval or banked circuit, promising lots of high-up driving exhilaration.
Sadly, that wasn't on BMW's agenda, but it was no hardship allowing us to drive on the international circuit, billed as the fastest in Britain. We were also on Rockingham's slowest "circuit", full of filthy mud and water - the testing location for the revised X5, now with xDrive which claims to be able to react 10 times faster than any other four-wheel-drive system.
While all the dirty work was going on, rubber was being cooked on the tarmacadam, mostly with BMW's latest arrivals, the 645Ci coupé and cabriolet at €108,400 and €119,900 ex-works. We say mostly because there was also the M3 CSL, which even outsmarted the smart 6-series cars. It came with vital statistics such as a 0-60 mph time of 4.8 seconds and a top speed of 161 mph. Just over 400 have been built for Britain and Ireland.
Inside three hours, everyone in our 75-strong party got to drive the 6-series and the X5. The one-way track brought its own freedom but not everyone was happy. Our instructors monitored every move, sometimes chiding us for our mistakes.
One dealer thought he had been through a driving test. "I felt I was about 17 - he took five minutes to tell me my mistakes and how I could improve."
Another dealer said he was inhibited: "I wasn't into showing off or doing fancy stuff - I just wanted to get the everyday driving feel."
Attitudes to our stop-start-crawl manoeuvres on the off-road track were more tolerant, simply because it's so far from the norm for even the most sophisticated BMW handler. The instructors were listened to intently as awesome peaks and gullies were approached.
Descending severe gradients was a doddle, thanks to Hill Descent Control (HDC). It's just a matter of beginning the descent with both feet redundant and keeping them that way, against all instincts.
Impressive but academic, that seemed to be the judgement on the mud-plugging exercise. One man from Carndonagh, Co Donegal, who bought an X5 for his wife, couldn't see any X5 owner wanting to put the vehicle through this torture. "I have the photographs for her," he said. "God, she'll be horrified. I know it's supposed to be the ultimate driving machine but we'll leave this ultimate test to others."
Lochlann Quinn was one of the lucky ones, enjoying a couple of laps with the M3 CSL, but admitting he would have liked to know the car better. He couldn't say if he might become a BMW owner. He favours Ferraris as faster and more formidable - the latest 360 Modena pushes out 400 bhp and is listed as having a 184 mph top speed, beaten only by the 550 Maranello's 479 bhp and 199 mph.
BMW's new Irish company was well pleased with the event which went on for a second day and involved 140 people. "It was an opportunity to exploit our new close relationship with BMW in Britain, using resources like Rockingham, the BMW performance centre," said spokesperson Clare O'Neill. Projected 6-series sales this year are 80, with 30 likely to be cabriolets.
Two M3 CSLs have been sold at €126,400 each. Lochlann Quinn, meantime, hasn't yet given BMW here his accolade.
The CSL: It's just wicked, wild and wonderful
You have to be prepared for a bunfight. There's no point in politeness. No point in good social graces. It's kill or be killed, the law of the car test jungle, honey.
A sunny afternoon at Rockingham Raceway in Corby, England, and the car in front is a BMW M3 CSL. Well, just over the pit wall actually and we're lined up like racers at Indianapolis. Tense, nerves frayed, hustling closer to the wall, bristling with intent.
Only two CSLs are on offer amidst a fleet of M3s, both black, both wicked, like chocolate mud pies being eyed by supermodels. These babies doing only three laps, and it's gonna be me.
Sure, I'm less qualified than some of these motoring writers. Sure, I'm not so good a driver. But, ladies and gentlemen, I have no shame. I stride over to the second of the CSLs and stake my claim, mark my territory.
I'm into the driver's seat, in control, in command.
"Hi," says the man in the passenger seat.
"Wha'?" say I.
"I'll be your instructor today . . ."
For instructor read killjoy. The type of tutor who, when you were a kid, smiled gently and then made you face the corner wearing a conical hat with a big D on it when you suggested that a field trip to McDonalds seemed an essential part of understanding how food chains work.
"We've got a 70 mph limit today, because we don't have crash helmets," he smiles. "It's an insurance thing."
This is a flippin' supercar, mate. Light as an egg-white omelette, powerful like a comic book alter-ego, subtle as a Slipknot riff. And we have to go 70!
Which, halfway round Rockingham's infield, becomes a more and more sensible idea. For starters, three laps isn't near enough to learn the circuit. For seconds, any more and I might start getting ambitious. And for dessert, this is a car which, over three laps, is beyond me.
I confess, I never once looked at the paddle shift, never once looked at the speedo or the interior finish or anything. I was holding on for dear life.
A quick blat out of the pits, up to third for the sharp left-hand turn, drop to second, turn in. Pay some attention while the instructor tells me I turned in too early. Gun it on the exit, up to third, brake hard for the next right hander, late turn in, drift out to the pit lane entrance on the exit, up to third, long right hander. And so on.
I knew nothing about what was going on. I was just trying to feed the power to the CSL as evenly as possible, like one of those guys at Sea World handing little fish one at a time from a bucket to a killer whale. All the while, you know the whale is thinking: "C'mon kid, just a little closer and I'll have the whole bucket and your arm too".
That's the CSL. The more you fed into it, the more it wanted. Like the city wideboys whose bonuses will probably be the only currency lurid enough to spring for one of these thoroughly mental beasts, the CSL believes "greed is good". Very good.
It's unquestionable, outrageous, demonic fun. The acid test? I wanted to hurl the instructor out the window, scream in tune with the hysterical growl of the engine and go for more laps. More, more, more.
Justin Hynes