'Is that a Mitsubishi?' asked the apron-and-welly clad man in Wells-Next-the-Sea. 'I've had 12 and they've never let me down. Best car I've ever driven.' I've never received such a ringing endorsement for a manufacturer before, but maybe that's because I've never spoken to a whelk fisherman before.
'What is it you like about them?' I queried, eyeing the razor-sharp shell knife he held in his tattooed hands. He leaned close, then whispered: 'They are so quiet.'
And he's right. This Mitsubishi had such a silent engine that on a couple of occasions I thought I'd stalled it - only to turn the key and and cause the poor thing to choke and cough at the lights.
The car the whelk man and I were discussing is the new Grandis. Officially an MPV, but in every respect it's more like a sexy and eye-catching estate. For a start it's mauve; of the 40 or so cars I've tested only three have not been silver, so it scores just for daring to be fleet-car grey. It has sleek lines, five-spoke wheels, wrap-round lights and embedded spotlights. The doors are high, the windows shallow, and it sweeps towards a vertical tail - it's the metaphorical flying wedge.
On the inside, the driving position is legs forward rather than the usual MPV bench affair. The car's lockers and pockets are curvaceous and voluminous, and the instrument panel glows a calming pale blue. This sort of voluptuous styling is a real surprise in an MPV - and parents expect nothing more than wipe-clean functionality from their environs. (I've always secretly hoped that MPV actually stood for Mamas and Papas Vehicle.)
In the back are two extra seats which fold neatly down into the cavernous boot. Mitsubishi has called its ingenious folding-seat technology the 'hide and seat' system (tee hee) which is exactly what they do. Most seven-seaters come with a list of local osteopaths, as it is impossible to remove the extra seats without doing yourself permanent back damage, so folding seats which don't have to be removed are a big plus.
The engine also hits the right notes - 162bhp, 2.4 litre and a 0-62mph of 10.2 seconds means it has enough ooomph to transport your tribe at decent speed, and doesn't have to be driven as if you're in charge of an over-laden removals van. It starts at £18,499 - which, considering it allows you to sidestep the cliche of being an MPV driver, is money well spent.
Any crosses? I'm afraid so. It's a thick felt-tip X in the fuel-consumption box. The bumf boasts 28.2mpg, but over a heavily laden week (three kids, one dog, lots of wet-weather gear - it was a beach holiday) the dashboard figure never topped 21, and often hovered around 16-18, which in these green days is a crime.
A recent AA survey showed that 80 per cent of people put fuel economy as their major 'buying decider'. In which case the Grandis may struggle to sell to all but image-conscious parents and, of course, whelk fishermen.
