Exactly 38 years ago to the day as I write this, a significant event took place between France and Italy. For the first time ever, Italy was joined permanently by road to Northern Europe when the Mont Blanc Tunnel opened. Tunnels are fine things, especially when you have a car like the 147 GTA. And as luck would have it I did, though not for long. Sadly various prior engagements precluded a trip to Italy, and the best I could manage was the Rotherhithe tunnel one July night at about half midnight. As I approach the tunnel way too fast I know it's going to be good. As we shoot into the tunnel I hit the rev limiter. Again. Up to third. Wait... Wait... There it is! THAT resonance. Just for a moment. 4,000 revs, 4,500 revs, and then that sublime hellish roar. Ease off. That fearsome snarl. Power on, roar. Snarl. Roar. Snarl. And suddenly we shoot out of the tunnel into the night, travelling unreasonably fast. Again.

You only live once, or so the saying goes. The broad idea being that while you are alive, you make the utmost of everything. This is an ethic I heartily approve of, although it is slightly paradoxical when it comes to the 147 GTA as, although you're certainly making the most of driving, it may just drastically shorten that one life you have. You see, speeding is neither something one should boast about nor be proud of. It's dangerous, illegal, and overlooking the fact that 99.9% of the driving population have on at least one occasion broken the speed limit, it is generally frowned upon. Unfortunately driving the Alfa it is practically impossible to stay within speed limits. It taunts you, whispering at every possible moment 'let's be stupid' until the only way you can satisfy its enthusiasm is to nail the throttle to the floor and get ready to see your life flashing before your eyes yet again.

I met Shane at South Mimms services on his way to report on Goodwood for the weekend. Much as I would have liked to go, I forwent the experience for 48 hours solid of Alfa Romeo. He hands me the keys slightly sorrowfully (and I suspect apprehensively) before we go our separate ways. I have a horrible shock straight away as I try to negotiate out of the parking space and the steering wheel stops half way to where I expect it to go. In any practical car I'd be scoffing at this terrible shortcoming, whilst composing vitriolic prose in my head. Not the GTA. I break out into a broad grin, engage reverse, do a two-point turn and head off realising that the GTA must be even more serious than I was expecting. I later measure the steering to be 1.75 turns lock-to-lock. This is just gratuitous.

I head out of the services and reach the sliproad onto the M25. Nothing to do but to floor it really. Oh. My. God. My internal organs meet my spine, it sounds as if hell itself is emerging from the exhaust, and amidst the turmoil I realise I'm on the rev limiter. Second gear, and it happens all over again. Third gear. Again. In fourth gear I manage to avoid the rev limiter, in fifth I'm in the outer lane and by sixth I'm about to lose my licence. I hurriedly acquaint myself with reality and find 70 on the speedo, which suddenly feels terribly slow. I soon dismissed the possibility of going to sleep that evening. This car is Red Bull, a double espresso and a box of Pro Plus in one handy shot.

It all feels terribly right and safe though. In almost every car I've ever climbed into and driven, I'm initially apprehensive about the corners or the handling or the... I don't know, there's always something. This little GTA I could have been driving from the moment I was born it feels so right. Soon enough I'm stuck in traffic and a new emotion washes over me as I recognise the thud-thud, thud-thud emitting from the lovely chrome exhausts. It has a heartbeat! The phrase Cuore Sportivo suddenly springs to mind.

For the uninitiated, the GTA is based on the standard 147, but rather than an every-day engine it has had the 3.2-litre V6 from the 156 GTA shoehorned under the bonnet. The suspension is of a similar configuration to the standard 147 - with high double wishbones at the front - but has been painstakingly improved with a lower ride height, new geometry and uprated components. The rear also maintains the same basic layout - MacPherson struts - but again they've been significantly modified for the intended purpose. All of this dramatically improves balance, grip and driver involvement.

Reaching home all too soon, I jump out, still buzzing, and stare admiringly at the protruded curves. The wheelarches are noticeably flared to accommodate the 17” GTA wheels and wider track, and blend into aggressive bumpers. The front has two extra air intakes between the grille and the headlights as well as provocatively enlarged lower intakes with a Ferrari-esque sculpted ledge along the bottom. The top of these intakes contains the indicators, ingeniously tucked away almost invisibly until they're called upon for the next overtaking manoeuvre. The bumper is deeper, and loses the black strips and chrome inserts in the lower intakes, giving the whole front a simple, aggressive, out-of-my-way look. The rear bumper also loses the rubber strip, and is again far deeper than the original version, with the number plate slung lower. Three large 'vents' take up most of the bottom of the rear bumper, the left hand one containing the chrome twin exhausts.

Finally, colour coded side skirts complete the picture, but even these aren't just bolt-on jobs, they're fully integrated into the body with a little ventilation hole (it is not functional) at the leading edge. It occurs to me that none of these enhancements are purely cosmetic; they are all there to accommodate performance modifications underneath the skin. Well, nearly.

Safety-wise, the car is well catered for. There are six airbags - two front, two in the seat sides and two curtain ones as well. Then comes the usual string of acronyms. As well as the now expected ABS and EBD, there's Vehicle Dynamic Control (VDC), which modulates the throttle and individual brakes to maintain stability when the situation is 'just about to become critical'. Motor Slip Regulation (MSR) modulates brake torque when changing down over-enthusiastically, and prevents severe engine braking from causing a skid in slippery conditions. Finally Anti-Slip Regulation (ASR) offers traction control, braking spinning wheels individually to act like a limited slip differential (although generally not as effectively).

The Momo seats are gorgeous - Le Mans charcoal leather with ribbed blue inserts, and they are perfect to sit in as well. They hug your body like well-padded racing seats, and add significantly to one's confidence while driving the car. The quality of the leather is outstanding. There are sculpted, leather-lined concaves in the doors and rear side panels, repeating the pattern on the seats which all smacks of attention to detail. The dashboard is fine, with the few plastic bits here and there managing to remain inoffensive. These are shared with all 147s.

The radio/CD is OK, although a little basic, but the sound is excellent, pumping out through eight Bose speakers. I have to admit that I used it only to check that it worked, as the exhaust, tyres and engine singing in discordant harmony provided all the rest of my acoustic entertainment. There's no satnav though as standard, which is a disappointment. The steering wheel is again just right. It's similar to the standard 147 wheel, but far chunkier in all the right places, and the leather is a little softer too. The pedals are drilled aluminium with little rubber inserts - smart, and particularly grippy should your handmade Italian loafers not be up to the job. The gearstick is also leather covered and works perfectly. Further equipment includes 'follow me home' headlights, cruise control, dual-zone climate control (which is adequate, but not quite powerful enough for my liking), the same trip computer as the standard 147, but with oil temperature added, and steering wheel audio controls.

After a hurried respite to get some food, I departed for the first photo shoot of the evening. London Zoo seems an appropriate setting for the beast, and no sooner have I pulled up outside than a lesser evolution of the species stops alongside me. The driver's jaw is hanging loose, and he manages to summon the words to tell me it's the first he has seen. He's clearly dumbstruck, and just sits there staring. Eventually he thanks me (!) and drives on.

Next stop is Docklands, and on the way the car certainly provokes attention. Entering the guarded area is no problem when the guards see the car, and I snap away happily before being forcibly removed by a less appreciative guard. I meet friends for drinks in Docklands (no alcohol I can assure you, I am already in enough fear of losing my licence without adding any more incentives) and streak back later through the London night. As I reach my front door, I feel the need for one final drive before the night is out, so we quickly find the A41 and put things to rights before a few hours' sleep. Next morning I'm up bright and early, and run to the window to admire the car. Seeing it all over again is just as good as the first time. Soon I'm on the road again, heading out into the country to try out the handling properly, as Shane had spent most of his week up and down his favourite A and B-roads in it and reported that it was not perfect, but certainly is huge fun.

An early morning blast down the A3, and I'm on a familiar B-road a little outside Guildford. It is a wonderful combination of sharp rights and lefts mingled with ascents and descents. It's also blissfully empty at this time of the morning. I pass a junction on a gentle right hand curve, the sign to nail it before the sharp uphill right. Hardly any need to ease off, as the incline takes care of that. In fact the car tells me to keep the power on. There is no corner! It's effortless. Still on the ascent we swoop round a left and floor it to the peak of the hill. The V6 sounds more fabulous than usual in the otherwise silent Surrey tranquillity. The car rises over the peak, but lands effortlessly as if it knows exactly where the road is going. Down a long stretch to another sharp right, brake heavily, then power through the corner. Wheelspin, understeer. It recovers and we hurtle towards the main road before braking heavily and pulling up innocently at the lights. A u-turn and we repeat the same again in the opposite direction. Sublime.

This course proves the work Alfa have done to the suspension has had a dramatic effect on the handling. While I'd expect it to be harsher and less forgiving, it is if anything more forgiving (at speed) than the standard 147. Over bumps it remains ultra-stable, yet still absorbs the shock, giving a pleasantly damped thud instead of the expected jolt as it hits a pothole, though Shane mentioned that can be made to hit the bump stops quite easily over severe undulations. Yet when pushed to the limit it rolls very little and remains composed far beyond your expectations. Almost dangerously so!

The amount of torque the car possesses is ridiculous. As an experiment try this. Park your car on a level surface. Make sure the engine is running, release the handbrake, engage first gear and lift the clutch reasonably quickly. It will stall. Not the Alfa. It moves off happy as ever, and even changing straight into sixth hardly phases it.

The rest of the weekend passes in a blur of high-speed landscape, grunting, growling, and squealing of rubber, appreciative stares, and general bad behaviour. As I pull into the services on Sunday evening to return the car I check my rear-view mirror one final time and breathe a sigh of relief that I never saw that blue flashing light.

Driving home, I felt a pang of loss. If I had £22,500 spare, I would not hesitate. In fact I'd have already bought a GTA. This car is absolutely phenomenal. It has character like no other new car I've driven. It is a handful, supernaturally fast, tactile, dangerous, beautiful, and yet still practical. It is without doubt the best performance hatchback available today.