Here we come, ladies and gentlemen. Make way for Lord and Lady Muck in their £122,850 Range Rover Autobiography.

Yes sir, we feel pretty special up here, looking down on the lesser mortals from the cosy cockpit of a car that costs more than a house. In fact, it actually does cost more than my first house.

Admittedly that was a two-up, two-down in Bolton, but even that will set you back £120,000 these days. Or you could save up an extra three grand and drive like a king.

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The Autobiography – you have to be massively self-confident to get away with that dumb name – is considerably more comfortable than my old terraced cottage. I’d rather spend an evening cosseted by the RR’s acres of buttery leather (massage chairs and all) and listening to the hi-fi than in that draughty living room of my young adulthood.

It certainly scoots along and even long journeys become a pleasure. Me, my wife and our six-year-old twins drove from Essex to Ayr on the west coast of Scotland in one day.

And still arrived in reasonably good humour and feeling fresh. There were miles when we didn’t even argue at all. There was no need to test the 145mph top speed nor the 5.8 seconds to get from 0-60mph.

We were tempted, however, with thrilling squirts of G-force acceleration to overtake the occasional slowcoach. Fabulous fun but I swear I could see £10 notes vanishing from the exhaust and down the road behind us.

I’ve done similar long trips, alone, through gritted teeth, in my old Mini (the BMW version, it’s not that old!) and arrived feeling as if I’d driven a Messerschmitt up the motorway. So, it’s a relaxing ride in comparison with that, and probably most other vehicles out there.

Of course, it’s not worth all that money. I suspect a lot of owners will be using OPM – other people’s money. They’ll be registered to companies or sneaked through some business whizz’s books. And there are problems. Chief of these is image. Friends would joke how many drug deals I’d done that day, while others were nakedly jealous.

Before our trip, from the vantage point of the launderette (don’t ask), I saw a woman deliberately bang her car door against the mighty Rover’s. The Autobiography haughtily laughed it off with no sign of damage. I like to think her Kia Picanto fell to bits round the corner like a clown car. Serves her right.

It’s a tad uncomfortable to realise people think you’re a wally because of your posh wheels. Mind you, give me the car and I’ll soon get over it. Also, despite its 5m x 2m bulk, the RR has an inadequate boot.

We couldn’t fit in all the gear we needed for our family-of-four’s week away. I know the back will normally only have to carry golf clubs or Waitrose bags, but come on...

Finally, we gave everyone the biggest laugh of the trip after one of the rear seat belts got caught behind the seat. I found a button on the control panel that said Unfold All Seats and pressed it. Big mistake. All the seats started going up and down, forwards and back, like a thing possessed.

That included flattening me against the windscreen and leaving me in fear for my life. Spooky. But at least we got the belt free.