Welcome
Welcome There comes a time when soaking up the sunshine in a refined cabriolet is the best way to enjoy summer Discounting Mrs Bell’s Porsche Boxster, which I regularly pinch, I’ve only owned one convertible – the pretty brutal TVR Griffith. Unusually for the two-seat roadster formula, it was roomy enough and, unless provoked, civilised enough to play grand tourer, but its raw character was never more than a few thousandths of an inch below the surface. For a thoroughly convincing attempt at the seemingly contradictory art of motoring that is both cosseting and open air, I’d need a cabriolet, something with more generous proportions in which to lounge around while enjoying the calm ambience of a saloon car with the plump roof down, or even up. The six cars…