TG drives the Porsche Boxster S

As views go, the Black Forest in February is fairly undemanding. Endless ranks of trees shot through with a broken, grey scar of a road, the view compressed by a horizon-wide cataract of cloud. The palette is of nature's workhouse shades - brown, grey, dark green, more brown, a small despair of black - but the tones are muted to the point of desaturation, a forest viewed by a colour-blind god. Honestly? It's a bit heavy on the wantonly melancholic. Evergreen Goth.