Don't die rich, buy a sports car, but maybe not a Maserati Quattroporte?

The HMRC will already demand 40% of all we own, above the value of our garden shed, after the second partner pops off. But now, Labour wants any residual pension pots factored into the IHT equation as well. Put simply, nearly every available avenue we could once go down to try and pass something on to our kids is gradually being blocked.

In a nutshell, the Treasury wants our cash, and if we don't have any cash, HMRC will confiscate our assets. They're basically going to take as much as they possibly can from anyone who, by some miracle, has anything left for them to take.

Realistic prospect

Because I'm a bit of a car nut, I often get asked by others in my age group whether they should buy a BMW X3 or an Audi Q5.

I mean, why keep any money, because any surplus will be greedily gobbled up by the jolly old HMRC. So, people often ask me if a secondhand Jaguar XJ is a good buy, or if a decent 90s Rolls-Royce or Bentley is a realistic prospect? And the simple answer to all of these questions is - I don't really have a clue.

I mean, it's not like the old days anymore. Back then, hundreds of different auto manufacturers were vying to produce something radical and groundbreaking. Valves were being mounted sideways, carburettors were perched on the roof, gearboxes were filled with chicken curry and mounted sideways whilst lemon curd filled engine sumps. We'd pick up a brochure and read all about how engineers had mounted propshafts onto gearsticks, and we'd ponder just how the hell that was ever going to work out. Citroén actually replaced coil springs with metal globes filled with green custard, and it actually worked - perfectly.

But these days, the differences between an Audi and a BMW are tiny. Picking a favourite in terms of engineering is a bit like picking one particular egg from a box of six, or deciding which is your favourite nostril. The only way you can choose between an Audi or a BMW is by actually getting yourself behind the wheel to see which one fits you best. A bit like choosing a decent suit. Yet, the type of suit favoured by Julian Clary wouldn't hang particularly well from the frame of Sylvester Stallone. We all presumably choose a new suit based on whether or not we think we look good in it. And that's where we're at with modern cars.

Abundant opulence

I recently saw a Rolls-Royce Phantom Coupe being driven by a short, old bloke with a bald head when I was in Vilamoura. I’d recently driven one from Faro to Málaga, and I thought it fitted me like a Savile Row blazer, whereas the short guy looked somewhat smothered by the enormity of it all. His bald head looked like a sparrow’s egg in a stork's nest. So, when someone asks if a big Roly-Poly is a good car? Well, that depends on your genes. If you're big-boned, portly and perhaps slightly civilised, then maybe it is. But if you're a bit brash, bald and minuscule, then perhaps not.

This brings me on to the Maserati Quattroporte. Last week, I stayed at my car nut buddy’s fabulous villa in Cascais. He happens to own one of these things, among a fine collection of other interesting cars.

Just for fun, we lorded it at a particularly fine hotel for a couple of nights, so we could catch up and do a bit of debauchery, without having to worry too much about getting ourselves home. With all the abundant opulence and all the fine cars knocking about, I almost felt like we were in Monte Carlo.

Anyway, the following morning, I groaned my way down to the set-down area, after a night quaffing some of Alentejo's finest vinhos. The concierge, to my absolute delight, brought the Maserati around to the front, declaring that “meu amigo" had already tootled off in his 1987 signal red Porsche 911, and that we’d meet back at the hotel at 7:30pm sharp for quaffing round-2.

Now, I’m well aware that the special Slavic ladies and their Brasileira sisters who tend to hang around these types of joints are carefully studying the cars. I mean, a chap doesn't get much attention if he happens to be driving a hired Fiat 500. Weirdly, the Maserati got about the same kind of reception as a hired Fiat 500. By contrast, when I drove the Phantom Coupé to my Málaga hotel, I may as well have daubed the pearlescent white bodywork with images of the Kama Sutra and stuck bundles of €100 notes beneath the wiper blades. It was definitely noticed.

The previous model Quattroporte was styled by Pininfarina, whereas the later one (which I was driving) was done in-house. This means it looks rather bland. I don't think it has any redeeming features at all. Step inside, and the bland theme continues. Sure, there's a lot of space, but there are no memorable features. Much of the switchgear is from GM, so it feels and looks as though everything came from Matalan.

The engine in my pal’s car was a (404bhp) twin-turbo V6, and the gearbox was an eight-speed auto, so it's no slouch. But, by the same token, It didn't actually do anything that was particularly mind-blowing either. You can get a twin-turbo V8, which Maserati said was the fastest four-door saloon that money could buy back in the day. But Bentley soon trumped it when they introduced their fabulous Continental GT.

Quiet restraint

So, I'm forced to be candid here. For me, the Quattroporte isn't really a particularly amazing car. The steering is, shall we say, vague. Then, there's that overriding cheapness and, as I pointed out, the styling both inside and out is just - mehh. Audi, BMW and Mercedes could all sell you something far better. Therefore, I could end this article right here and now. But, I’m not going to.

Reason: Well, you see, there's a little button down by the gear lever marked “Sport”. When you press it, the engine starts to go all Italian on you. It’s just crazy. It sounds baleful but utterly intoxicating. It reminded me that, whilst the design may be uninspiring and filled with chunks of Chrysler, this car does have northern Italian heritage, because it hails from Ferrari territory.

Of course, you can get great sounds from an AMG Mercedes or an M5 BMW, but they're nothing quite like the sounds you get from the Quattroporte, and they just don't have the Maserati's quiet restraint. Big German cars are majorly “in your face”. They just stink of the “nouveau riche”. They may be excellent, but they're a bit on the vulgar side whilst the Quattroporte is a big, deluxe barge for people who don't want to create a fuss.

So, that actually is - The End.