It's snow joke when you're not actually a rally driver

MY apologies to the annoyed-looking man across the road.

Regular readers will be delighted to know that my battle to get my No Claims Bonus recognised by the Rover's insurers has finally been won, after they finally accepted the mountain of paperwork I'd sent through as proof of me being a careful driver.

A reputation hard earned and very nearly ruined by tonight's weather.

Regular readers will also know that the idea of driving on snow doesn't terrify me as much as it probably should; in fact, I actually relish the challenge of ploughing through it, because it's a great excuse to practise your car control skills. That and secretly pretend you're about to win the Rally Sweden.

The old Life On Cars Mini was, as you'd expect, utterly brilliant on the white stuff, being light and nimble and perfectly balanced, which in turn meant when you did lose grip at surprisingly slow speeds it was an easy slide to catch. This could, I wager, be part of the reason why the original Mini Cooper S was a three-times Monte Carlo rally winner.

You might have forgotten the Renault 5's got rally pedigree too; true, all the high-profile victories might have gone to the mid-engined 5 Turbo but the front-engined one, which is far more closely related to my old £100 banger, actually proved quite a capable hot hatch in the handling stakes. While it was never as nimble as the Mini, it was a lot more reassuring.

So it's a shame the Rover 214, a bigger, heavier car which focuses more on opulent trim than opposite lock, hasn't quite passed the snow test. It's comfy, don't get me wrong, but it's also not a six-year-old schoolchild of car that wants to come out and play whenever it snows.

Put simply, I spun it. Sorry...