THERE was considerable fanfare when the much-loved British breed finally put its new F-Type sportscar on the road – such a long time coming but all of that street presence meant it was well worth the wait.

The belligerent bark of forced induction bullying six or eight cylinders does almost as much for those it passes as it does for the conductor behind the wheel.

But the pricetag isn’t nice, the boot is small, the cabin storage isn’t much better, the infotainment system is now out of date and it still has the odd minor niggle that reminds some of the bad old days of Jags and questionable reliability.

But many just greet such concerns with a shrug and a longing gaze at the curvaceous tail, followed by a grin as the supercharged engine fires up.