Hard to find a decent cobble these days, but perseverance and the lack of modern road architecture in Portugal has paid off.

It's a time-saver - tackling a decent section of these medieval, uneven little suspension-worriers is akin to driving 1,000 miles on mixed surfaces; if there are issues with the dangly bits, cobbles will root them out like a pig scouring for truffles.

After about 10 minutes of significantly failing to get double vision, or talk in a constant vibrato, it's impossible not to conclude that the Hydractive III + hydropneumatic system nicked off the bigger C6 is really well sorted in this application. Excellent, even.

In fact, after about three hours in this 173bhp, 2.2-litre 'Exclusive'-spec turbodiesel, there's a warm feeling that just won't shift - not the usual reaction to a middle-market turbodiesel saloon, even if the excellent seats do have a massage function and a heater capable of cooking your colon.

So the C5 is a nice place to sit and a home run if you have a slightly achy lower back, but as soon as Citroen started the pitch for the car, it was hard not to feel slightly uncomfortable.

The new strapline for Citroen's C5 advert is 'Unmistakably German Feel. Made in France'. They've made a large play of the 'German-ness' of the new car - associating the Fatherland with engineering integrity and solid design - and I was marginally concerned that it would end up as a strange little parody of an A4 on the cheap, and without the excuse that it looked like the designers had been at the hand-rolled Gauloises.

I could always excuse the C6's dynamic shortcomings just by looking at it - when you go mainstream, you have to play by the numbers. You have to appeal to the masses.

Luckily the C5 looks better in real life than on the adverts. It's not as visually arresting as the C6, with which it shares a large amount of its under-the-skin components, including platform and suspension systems, but it is handsome and quietly resolved.

There's the typical Citroen Roman nose and shorter rear overhang, big lights, strong shoulders. There's a slightly anodyne and derivative rear three-quarter view, but it looks good from the front and doesn't try too hard.

Don't forget that under here is essentially a Peugeot 407, so Citroen has done well to keep the C5 looking so calm and gently handsome. Hints of everything from Audi to BMW ghost through the surfacing, especially from medium distance away, but it always stays on the right side of pastiche and it looks great on the optional 19-inch wheels.

The dash has now focussed itself and is less intentionally wayward. The dials all face the driver in a defined area, and the passenger gets their own space to play in. There's a taller, more solid dash, and the feel is generally more conventional (i.e. Germanic).

But that's not to say that it's a bad thing - Citroen has made considerable leaps in quality, and the C5 has become a genuinely lovely place to be. Every surface is coated in some sort of silicone product - it feels good and has the added bonus of being extremely noise-absorbant. This car instantly feels well-made, solid and silent. A very good start.

Luckily, Citroen's designers haven't been slavish in their copying and there's still a bit of Gallic playfulness to set the C5 apart from more straightforward interior design from rivals like the Passat and Mondeo. The needles on the dials, for instance, rotate around the outside, leaving the centre section of the circle free for other car-related data.

The steering is also via a static hub-centre steering wheel, nicked off the C4, and leaves most of the controls always in the same place. There are also purely design touches that mark this car out: look at the way the trim on the inside door card swoops out around and back in a kind of incomplete Mobius loop. Not necessary, not functional, and the better for it.