OH DEAR, oh dear. They hand over the keys to a snarling monster of a car and then tell you not to go fast. Seems hardly fair, but they were right, as it turned out. You see, Renault is in the run-up to putting its new Clio V6 on the market and we Britons just love it, so much so that we buy more than anyone else in the world, except for the French, of course.

Really, we will take 40 per cent of production from France because we just love cars, and the madder and faster the better. In the past, they did not come any madder than a souped-up Clio. Trouble was, it was a bit unruly and Renault was keen to show that the new version was quite controllable.

So it picked the cream of the British press pack — and me — and flew us to Toulouse to try out the car at the Albi test circuit. Which was a great idea, until the rain tumbled down and smiles turned to furrowed brows as the chaps at Renault realised that even new and improved, a little car with 255bhp Clio was going to be a handful.

It all spookily looked like a rerun of the Brazilian Grand Prix as the first hacks were sent out on to the sodden circuit behind a safety car, leaving a huge trail of spray. And the results were pretty much the same as at Interlagos because when the safety car came in, one of our number decided to redesign one of the barriers. So, road test five minutes old and Renault is down one car and the British press are down one journalist, who went to hospital with bruises and a sore chest.

The only advantage of advanced years, I have discovered, is that you tend to see these things coming and I hung back waiting to see what happened. So, by the time my turn came around, the track was drying nicely and I could enjoy my spin around the circuit. And great fun it was, too, with the Clio’s 3-litre V6 roaring away and the car proving dextrous and nimble — quite a pleasure to drive, in fact.

By now, though, our hosts were nervous and did not want any more cars making their way to the bodyshops and any more bodies making their way to the local infirmary. For the two-hour road test, the instruction was a firm: “Do not go fast” underlined with maps and pointers and exclamation marks and warnings of dire happenings if you overcooked it on such wet roads. It is dangerous, they said. Really, really, really dangerous on wet roads. And if a barrier or ditch doesn’t get you, the police will.

OK, so now I have well and truly got the willies and I haven’t gone anywhere yet. We got the point, but telling any full-blooded Briton to take it easy behind the wheel of a performance car is like expecting George W. Bush to see an oil well and not try to capture it. Especially on the fast, open back roads of France.

But a warning is a warning and I had spotted our pasty-faced chum making his way to the ambulance. I started her up — you push a very pleasing little button — then nosed out on to the road, eyes darting to seek out speed cameras, looking for a ditch waiting to gobble me up.

My right foot was featherlight, but still the Clio displayed enough of its abilities to illustrate why Renault thinks some of its buyers might ditch models verging on supercar status for the Clio V6. The car is not actually that fast and the performance figures are good, but not awesome. The package, however, is sensational, so good is the grip and so tractable the engine, allowing you to pick third gear, for example, and use a rev band that stretches from below 2,000rpm up towards the red line at more than 7,000rpm without any signs of struggle. Handling is unfussy and the ride, for a car with suspension as stiff as a board, surprisingly comfortable.

So maybe you are not going to use this car as a super- cruiser, after all — you would be lucky to get a second toothbrush into the tiny luggage compartments, but you are going to have fun driving. Which is precisely what we Brits adore, apparently. We love waggling gear sticks and listening to engine noise.

There is no point to the Renault Clio V6. It is like buying a party hat and balloon; you are just in it for the enjoyment, if you have the odd 30 grand to spare, and Renault believes it will find about 200 people this year with plenty of loose change to spend on a super super-mini when the Clio goes on sale in the summer. So the enthusiasts will write the cheque, climb behind the wheel and roar off into the sunset. Just remember, don’t go fast.

Renault Clio V6

How much? £26,995.
How fast? 0 to 62mph in 5.8 seconds, top speed 153mph.
How thirsty? On average about 24mpg.
Under the bonnet? Mid-mounted 3-litre V6 good for 255bhp.
How big? Big as a Renault Clio, only with fattened bodywork and new Michelin Pilot tyres.
How good? Excellent if you are in the market for sheer performance. Rubbish for Safeways or taking the children to school .