There are two ways of looking at the Aston Martin V8 Vantage N400. It could be a properly sorted, road-legal version of the N24 racer, which hitherto could be registered with the DVLA only by adding a handbrake, a horn and some numberplates. I have extensive experience of driving that car on real roads and would respectfully suggest that you'd be off your ruddy rocker to even consider it.

I prefer to think of the N400 as one of the growing number of sharpened-up, weight-pared special editions of existing supercars, in the mould of the Ferrari F430 Scuderia, the Lambo Gallardo Superleggera and the 911 GT3 RS; a road car with race pretensions, rather than the other way around.

The engine, for example, is the uprated N24's, with 400bhp instead of the regular 380, while torque is up to 310lb ft. The springing and damping at both ends are considerably stiffer, there are bigger anti-roll bars and special ultralight wheels.

Although Aston has resisted the fashion for stupid stickers down the flanks, the N400 is rightly available in three special colours: Lightning Silver, Bergwerk Black, and this one, Karussell Orange, which suits the V8's soft shape perfectly, even if it can look alarmingly close to the brown end of the spectrum in certain light.

And it is, of course, more expensive at £94,000. But then, under the bonnet, and in amongst all the German writing, is a plaque proclaiming it to have been hand-built in England. Its papers are also in order, so you will know which of the limited run of 240 you have.

However, and like all its rivals, it can't really claim to be an uncompromised race-bred machine, which is to its eternal credit. The seats may be thinner and more snug than the standard ones, but they are still trimmed, like the rest of the cabin, in aromatic leather, and they still move around on electric motors.

There is air-conditioning, a decent radio, cruise control, carpets, and it will eventually be offered in right-hand drive. The windows open. It is even available as one of 240 convertibles too, for £102,000.

There are door pockets, normal seat belts, a glovebox, and the usual Aston bold stitching highlights. And this brings me to the difficult bit. There on the lid of the central cubby, picked out in contrasting orange thread, is - and I can hardly bring myself to write this - a map of the Nürburgring.

I've often thought that nothing dampens my enthusiasm for a new car quite like the revelation that it's been tested at the Nürburgring. But now I discover that a diagram of the chuffing place is even more demoralising. The bastards have been out there trying to shave half a second off the lap time and no good will come of it, you mark my words. The Nürburgring will be the first establishment to be closed down in May's Britain.

What use is this map? The corners aren't named, so it would be quite difficult to follow during a lap, especially as it's well out of the line of sight and often under your elbow. A map showing the location of John Lewis's soft furnishings department would be no more useless.