Powerful brakes smoothly halt the charge. Above us a World War Two Lancaster bomber banks sharply over the sea, sun glinting on wings and her four Rolls-Royce Merlin engines screaming. A surreal moment, but if there was anything symbolic about it I couldn't figure it out.
The only connection I made was that Sir Mick was probably older than the Avro Lancaster, which I discovered later was to be the flypast highlight of a vintage car race on Anglesey that weekend. Still, there was nothing wrong with the car. Far from it. Porsche's revamped mid-engined Boxster is a masterpiece of Stuttgart engineering.
Only aficionados might spot the differences between the old and the second generation Boxster shape. They are subtle, but numerous. The fact is, Porsche is awash with dosh. Only recently the company splashed out a huge wedge to buy a piece of VW. And they've not stinted on repackaging the 2005 Boxster, while still maintaining that "timeless" look which has kept the marque's exotic 911 sister going strong for 40 years.
Panel
Eighty per cent of the parts that make up the second generation Boxster are new, and there isn't a single body panel carried over from the old car.
With a subtle blend of automotive botox and steroids, the car has been bulked up by swelling the wings to accommodate a wider track. The view from the driver's ergonomically perfect seat is reminiscent of Ferrari's heart-stoppingly beautiful Dino, with the sweeping front wings ensuring gun-sight accuracy round the bends.
The Boxster's nose has been restyled too, with the headlights tucked into individual units, and chunkier, more aggressive air intakes. The engine has been beefed up, and the 240bhp punched out by the standard 2.7litre car I tested hits 62mph in 6.2 seconds, half a second quicker than the last model.
The six-cylinder engine is so flexible, poised and powerful at any stage of the five-speed manual box, I felt naked without the speed camera detector I carry on my workaday transport, a Honda S2000, which on paper has identical performance figures to the Boxster.
The Porsche emits a discreet beep from the instrument panel and a gentle reminder on the rev counter of this country's legal limit. That beep pings in with unnerving alacrity.
There's bags of luggage space for two fore and aft (yes, you can fit your golf clubs in). Everything falls to hand in the cabin, although the sausage-fingered might find some of the buttons a bit dinky initially.
The electrically-powered roof whirrs down at speeds up to 30mph and the Bose sound system is thumpingly splendid. But what does it for me is that exhaust note. Fed through a single pipe resembling a goosed basking shark, the sound even rivals that of four Merlin aero engines on song.
Standard
And so to the cheque book and trembling pen. £32, 320 is the base price of the standard car. Add on all the boys' toys bits and bobs, such as Porsche Communication Management (£1,815), 19-inch Carrera S wheels (£1,736), sports seats (£1,216), bi-xenon lighting system (£626), CD changer (£348), and you are heading rapidly towards £42,000. Now, with all available toys bolted on, my S2000 roadster rings up £27,500.
Do I rest my case? No, I want a Boxster.
