What is it like on the inside?
You thought there were foibles in the chassis? It’s inside where – optional air con and heated seats aside – the Plus 4 feels most untouched by the progress of time.
It feels geared towards having a co-driver at all times, as if made only for regulation rallies. The speedometer lives so far to the left you’ll barely find time to take your eyes off the road to check how fast you’re going. The rev counter sits much closer, but soars all the way to 9,000rpm with no redline, the steering wheel rim obscuring the vital 6,000-7,000rpm section where the rev limit actually lives.
You’ll end up eschewing both and driving on feel and instinct, which luckily, in a car so visceral, is a doddle. The gauges slap bang in front of you are fuel and temperature related, suggesting what might have been bigger concerns in Morgans of old. You can charge your phone, though…
The cabin is very snug even for those of slight height and slender build, and there’s not much in the way of luggage space. A high days and holidays car if there was one. It gets a wee bit blustery inside with the roof down, and with it up, there’s not much of a barrier between your ears and the hustle and bustle of life outside. Might as well keep it down, then.
Folding it up or down isn’t the work of a moment, but the various stoppers, clips and the manhandling process become second nature. And not much more time consuming than whirring on an electronic button for 20 seconds in a modern roadster. Much like the rest of the car, the Plus 4 turns a prosaic process into something where the driver is a crucial, physical part of the operation. Hurrah!