On the road: Mitsubishi L200 Barbarian – car review

'Apparently, these are very popular with American agents and with Islamic State'

The Mitsubishi pick-up has "Barbarian" in lights across every conceivable surface. It is incredibly beefy and, in the wrong hands, indeed a barbarian. You could back into an innocent Zafira as easily as turning on the radio. The parking camera is worse than useless, slow to respond and, in consequence, wrong about almost everything. But you don't get a pick-up because it's easy to park. You get it if you need to pick up a lot of stuff. It's too large to get into a city dump without a licence, so it's not your amateur's pick-up. This is a planner's pick-up.

In rear-wheel drive, it is a bit like a tractor. The gear stick carries on shaking as you turn off the engine. It makes so many noises, I kept thinking there was a police car behind me. "Even the windows are too loud," said a haughty seven-year-old from the back. Modern cars, I realised, try to mask the raw mechanics, and there is none of that here. Anything you can't hear, you can feel vibrating. Primary ride events come at you like a fairground attraction: if you can see a crater coming, you know you're going to feel it. But secondary ride events are significant, too: a seam in the road you wouldn't even see will knock you around like a squally wind. It's like driving a shed. "Why are these cowardly cyclists scattering before me?" I asked my mister. "Have you seen the size of yourself?" he replied.