Why My Favourite Cure For No Sleep Is A Drive In The Jaguar F-Type

When you’ve had less than two hours sleep, you need something to perk yourself up. A strong coffee, perhaps? However, as I drop a couple of gears on the automatic gearbox of a Jaguar F-Type S and hoof it at the national speed limit sign, I realise that this vicious little cat is a damn good alternative to caffeine.

The reason why I’ve been up since 3am, is because I’ve been shooting the coupe version of Jag’s oh-so pretty two-door in London (video below). However, London’s brightly-lit office blocks are a distant memory, as is the drunk guy who got down on his knees in front of the Jag to take a closer look while we stopped at a traffic light. Seriously.

I’ve cleared London at first light and have found a set of country roads to let the F-Type do want it does best: tear up any strip of tarmac you put in front of it with a furious wave of V6 noise. Normally on so little sleep I’d be dozy. And probably moody. But not today. The super-quick steering and searing 375bhp engine in front of the F’s substantial dash act as a big slap in the face to make sure I’m more alert than I’ve been in a while.

Just trundling around central London in the F-Type is enough to make you feel special. You can’t help but catch glimpses of yourself behind the wheel in the reflections of the Square Mile’s glass-heavy structures, and spot all the double-takes from passers by - inebriated or otherwise. But out here - with an open road and any dawdling driver dispatched with a few down-changes on ZF automatic gearbox - it becomes a car that makes lasting memories.

I could happily carve up corners all day with the F-Type’s delectably pointy nose, but our time with the car is almost at an end, and I vacate the driver’s seat to let fellow CT staffer Darren belt it past me while I film our video’s final passing shot. I get ample preparation: I can hear the Jag’s centre-exit exhaust doing its thing long before the car arrives.

The F-Type storms past as it bounces off the limiter; the substantial pipework letting out a series of highly antisocial pops and bangs. It’s not often I experience a car and think ‘I absolutely must have one of these in my life,’ but it’s happening right now. As I ponder savings accounts, depreciation indexes and robbing banks, I quietly think to myself: ‘one day…’