Rockstar Tom Clarke's Epic AMG Adventure: Part 2

Editor-in-Chief's Note: Last week in Part 1, legendary rockstar Tom Clarke from The Enemy introduced us to his £10k E55 AMG. This week we rejoin the action after the Merc's surprising economy run...

After the astonishing achievement of hitting 28mpg on our Coventry to London economy run, it was decided that the AMG was going on tour.

So on tour it went, regularly getting 400 miles from a tank, and not skipping a beat. Driving away from a show in Islington one night I found myself next to a pair of gorgeous Ferraris at a set of traffic lights. There is something deeply satisfying about keeping up with a £100,000 Ferrari in a £10k, ten-year-old Merc, and something deeply terrifying and unsettling when his brake lights go on and you only then remember that your car weighs double.

Then one morning I was sat at home updating the band's calendar on my phone when I spotted something. In the diary were three words that made my balls tingle; Isle of Man. A phone call to our tour manager confirmed it wasn't an error. We were playing a gig on the Isle of Man.

I immediately instructed him to cancel my flight and ordered two new rear tyres.

The Isle of Man is a fantastic place. A few hours on a ferry and you find yourself at the foot of a mountain that has claimed the lives of many brave, talented racers and enthusiasts. You get the sense that everybody on the island is a petrolhead, or at the very least appreciates petrolheads for the wealth they bring to the island once a year when the Tourist Trophy descends and the population doubles.

Having played the show, I'd elected to stay on the island for a few days after. I didn't want to be on a time limit; pushing myself around the course without doing a couple of laps to learn it and suss out any hazards. The morning of the gig I managed to get a slow recky lap in, and the next day I got up early and headed for the start of the course.

The roads are some of the best I've ever driven - twists, dips and hairpins that you don't see coming. Through tree-lined climbs, the course snakes its way up the vast mountain, ducking and diving, the road surface grippy and mostly smooth.

On the high speed turns, the AMG hung on fairly well for a car of its size, but the low speed tight hairpins proved too much for the minimal mechanical grip to tame, and the back end stepped out with furious plumes of white smoke.

I'd like to say it was easy to catch the back and drift round the corner with the throttle, but it really wasn't. It was a straight fight. The immediate torque made it impossible to feed the power in progressively and the massive weight transfer overwhelmed the relatively narrow rear tyres.

The handling was entertaining if I'm being kind, and appalling if I'm being honest.

The national speed limit signs signify the derestricted stretches. The locals know. A flash of the left indicator, they hug the curb and anticipate your overtake. It's a safe feeling knowing that they expect your manoeuvre, and watching the speedo climb to speeds that would see you lose your license elsewhere in the UK is exhilarating to say the least.

When you get to the top of the mountain you're rewarded with fast curves and sheer drops, the odd gantry left from the race week, and some truly stunning scenery. The E55 gains speed at a rate that I've never experienced before, but shaving it off again requires some serious looking ahead, and you can't just stamp on the slow pedal either as the wheels lock worryingly easily, even with ABS.

The only time you're not aware that you're in a very big, very heavy car, is when you're accelerating. BMW M3s, WRX STis, nothing has a hope of keeping up on the straights. The way you drive the E55 is wrestle it round a corner trying not to crash it, then eat everything, and I mean everything on the straight, then pull over, wait for them to catch up and admire the scenery.

For a moment, I was in paradise. And then, I was brought crashing down to Planet Earth.

The adaptive gearbox decided it had had enough, and refused to select any gear other than 2nd. Uh oh, no mans land. No speed limits, no phone signal, and absolutely no idea how much this was going to cost to fix.

Fortunately there is a Mercedes dealer on the Isle of Man. I sat patiently for hours wondering how many millions of pounds were racking up on the work sheet, and trying to work out how I'd get back home if it wasn't repairable. When the Head of Service said the car was fixed and ready to go I was surprised, but nowhere near as surprised as when I got the bill - £34 - to reset the speed sensor in the gearbox which had apparently become a little confused.

"If it happens again you might want to replace it", the technician told me, "It'll cost around £400". Two more laps of the TT course later, and there was no sign of the fault returning. Last week I put the AMG through its MOT, and it sailed through.

Right now, the smugness is back. Insurance is exactly the same as my previous Alfa 159, 1.9-litre diesel, tyres cost around the same, and when you need it to, it'll do 400 miles at 26mpg in more comfort and luxury than the current E Class.

And that brings us back to the beginning.

There is no doubt this car is epic. There is no doubt that it puts as big a smile on my face when driven in anger as any of the supercars I've pedalled. There's no questioning its ability to leave proper performance cars in its dust given half a straight.

It's the best all-rounder I've ever had.

So, buying a ten year old super saloon for 10k. Brave? Yes. Brilliant? Undoubtedly. Stupid? So far, it would appear not. So far...

Fancy having an AMG adventure of your own? Here are some classifieds links to help you get started: PistonHeads & AutoTrader.