Ostensibly, the estate car is not the vehicle of the fun-loving classes. How much fun can you have in a car the shape of a broken brick? If you are in the market for an estate, it's unlikely to be because you are footloose and fancy-free. It's because you come - as the saying goes - with baggage. Maybe as much as 1,000 litres of it, with the rear seats down.
The project of the new Lexus IS300 SportCross is, then, a fairly radical one. This is the first estate that Lexus has produced, and the intention is clearly to bring to the estate driver, if not the automotive equivalent of thigh-slapping hilarity and hellzapoppin' good times, then, at the very least, a measure of driving pleasure - for which many estate drivers, currently piloting a steel box and wearing blank expressions on their faces, will be weepingly grateful.
The car very gently takes you aside, sits you down and says, in a calm and reassuring voice: "Look, we know about the children and the junk and the Ikea storecard in your wallet. And we can take care of it. But we believe that you can be a driver again, rather than a glorified hod-carrier. And if you're willing to believe it too, we're going to help you achieve that."
The game plan is to put the driver back in touch with such things as agility and handling, reminding him that his car - though essentially a piece of haulage equipment - doesn't have to feel like a slightly lame shopping trolley. Inevitably, this involves compromising, to some extent, the car's essential estateness. For something clearly designed to carry several different kinds of farm animal at the same time, the IS300 is nevertheless a fairly compact estate. Seen from behind (which is the best view to get of it, what with the sporty, circular reflectors mounted in the door and the unapologetically hunky wind deflector), the car seems so tidily compressed that it could almost be mistaken for a coupe.
This could mean that people shopping, as it were, from the rear, and choosing a vehicle according to how much can be loaded into it, might feel that the Lexus comes up a little shy. Its boot has a capacity of 1,046 litres. (Just to be clear, I have taken this figure on trust from statistics supplied by Lexus: there was no time to check the measurement by filling the car with water.) By contrast, the Audi A4 Avant, probably the IS300's most conspicuous rival, allows for 1,288 litres. To put this technically, the Audi is ahead by a bag of compost and a trike. But it would be a shame to dismiss the Lexus out of hand on these grounds alone. Many who persist and get behind the wheel of the IS300 may decide they would rather have the Lexus and persuade the child to leave the trike behind.
One associates Lexus with comfortable saloons - superior courtesy cars for CEOs arriving at Heathrow. All of the familiar immodest Lexus pamperings are heartily present in this new estate. The interior of the doors is clad in black suede, a bit like Roger Moore used to be. In all likelihood, several cows have died in the making of each of the extraordinarily sumptuous leather seats, which actually seem to assist you into and help you out of the car. The gear-shift is like a steel ball from some kind of executive toy. The clock dials overlap one another, making for a very pretty, three-dimensional whirring cog effect.
All of which tends to ready you for the usual highly cushioned, entirely strainless, self-satisfaction-inducing Lexus ride, only slower, and with a bigger boot. In fact, pulled by its three-litre engine, the car feels startlingly nimble, engagingly ready to respond to your wishes, rather than to head off in a direction, and at a speed, preordained by its own length and the weight of your compost.
If you're really brave, you can punch the button that releases the "vehicle stability control" and have even more fun at corners. Personally, my feeling is that any button reading "Vehicle Stability Control" is best left untouched, unless you're particularly fond of the sort of explosions, involving engine parts and coils, that used to happen a lot in Wacky Races. ("What does this button do?" "Don't touch th-!" Ker-boom! ) I turned it off for a while - long enough to note how it seemed to produce in the car a strange homing instinct whenever woods were near - but put it back on eventually because I didn't like the way it made me close my eyes in fear.
The car also features something called the "E-shift" which, disappointingly, has nothing to do with Decca Aitkenhead's idea of a good night out, but merely enables you to convert the car to manual, changing gears as and when you wish by pushing buttons on your steering wheel. Not all that long ago, push-button gear-changing was a pleasure enjoyed exclusively by formula one drivers. Now here it is, made thrillingly available to knackered mums and dads. You can see how far we have come, and how fast.
The lowdown: Lexus IS Sport Cross
Price: £28,450
Top speed: 143mph
Acceleration: 0-62 in 8.4 seconds
Consumption: 25.2mpg (combined)
At the wheel: Jack Dee
On the stereo: Motown Chartbusters Vol 3
En route for: Thurrock
