Erin Baker: The first BMW M5 is the one to have

A handful of journalists were let loose on BMW’s heritage fleet of M5s on the roads of West Sussex, in order to celebrate the arrival of the new one. It was a gorgeous evening of admiring the engineering expertise that has gone into this venerable model and following the progression of external and interior design through the decades.

The car I drove, first registered in 1988, is in private hands, which always makes me a bit sweaty-palmed about jollying it round twisting country lanes. On the other hand: it’s an M5. You can’t pussy-foot it along. 

The original design of the M5 still leaves everything else in its wake, in my view. The silhouette is meaner, sharper, the bonnet overhanging the four headlamps, the twin tailpipes and short-lipped black spoiler at the rear, and that formidable M badge on the bodywork.

Inside, our car was a preserved masterpiece of design incorporating early electronics. Staring at the 10 buttons my side of the handbrake (matched by 10 the other side), I realised that all 10 were just to control the movement of the driver’s seat: one for seat squab up, one for seat squab down, one for seat back up, one down, one forwards, one backwards, etc etc etc. Wonderful to experience an interior that’s a commentary on the evolution of both design and technology. 

Thirty years later, those 10 buttons to control the driver’s seat have been replaced by a car that talks to your smart fridge at home, tells you which route has the least traffic and can help you book a table for dinner. It’s an astonishing rate of progress.

But perhaps more astonishing is how good the 1988 M5 remains to drive. A pure German thoroughbred, with an awesome straight six, galloping through the lanes. Yes, it’s lost some of its 286 horses (which then made it the then fastest production saloon in the world), yes, the gear changes have become a bit woolly round the edges, but this was the start of it all: the birth of the best super saloon of all time. If you’re patient with those gear changes and the brakes and forgiving of the body roll, you can still get joyous performance out of it. Above all, it’s an absolute classic – only 189 cars were sold in the UK. 

I also drove the 600bhp limited-edition 30 Jahre model, launched in 2011. Unbelievable power delivery, but just not a patch on the grace of the comparatively understated 1988 version. At one point I pulled over to check the map, and two teenagers gave me the thumbs up. I doubt they knew exactly what they were looking at – mainly because they asked me to rev it hard for a sound that wasn’t going to come – but they could see it was a fine beast of a performance car.

An original BMW M5 has now joined my dream garage for good.