At the weekend I had the opportunity to drive a Bentley Arnage for the first time. The timing could have been better now that it has been replaced by the Mulsanne in Bentley's line-up but it was still something that I had been looking forward to. I knew it would be a completely different experience from the other cars that I have been driving over the last six months but would it be a pleasant companion for a two hour drive from central London to Rutland - England's smallest county I believe - or would it be a car best experienced with a chauffeur?

Let's get the obvious out of the way: it is a huge car. Driving the Arnage for the first time through central London was a bit of a baptism of fire even though I had managed to avoid the morning rush hour. However, the visibility is very good and the steering responsive, both immediately helping to inspire confidence when dodging pedestrians and cyclists or when changing lanes.

The other thing that you quickly realise is that other drivers seem to really respect this car. It clearly has a presence that other motorists can't ignore and I can only imagine that it is a combination of the size of the thing, its imposing front grill, the badge on the bonnet, and a belief that it might be carrying someone important in the spacious back seats. Even taxis seemed to back off slightly and were less eager to leap out at junctions in front of you, although a cyclist decided to jump a red light and speed across the road. The idiocy of some cyclists aside, all these things help to develop a slight feeling of invulnerability within the first couple of miles.

It's a feeling you don't want to hold onto for too long though as this car has more than enough power from its 6.75 litre V8 engine to see you into license-losing speeds before you've noticed. The increased jet-like drone and thrust from the engine is noticeable any time that you care to flex your right ankle but you always feel slightly cocooned in a way that makes high speeds very comfortable. This is clearly a machine that is designed with continent-crushing in mind; only if you ignore the fuel gauge though. This is possibly the thirstiest car that I've ever driven and you quickly become aware of the fuel that is required to propel this beast with such disdain for the laws of physics.

I personally think it is a good looking car, with a certain degree of style that makes you question whether you should be sporting a bandana and diamond ear studs or dressed in black tie. I did neither and was left feeling somewhat outclassed by the car I was in. It somehow manages to remain discreet though, people rarely taking much notice at petrol stations in the same way that people do with a Ferrari or Porsche. Perhaps it implies a desire for privacy that more ostentatious cars don't convey.

Of course it is no sports car and the handling reflects that. Take a roundabout too quickly and the car will react with a fair degree of roll, something that your passengers will certainly feel. On country roads it is better behaved, the excellent damping soaking up the worst of the British roads and the effortless power allowing you to maintain momentum. Again though, your passengers will know about it if you drive too hard. Better to sit back and enjoy being in such pleasant surroundings knowing that you can make up any shortfall on the straights.

The interior really is sumptuous. The carpets are almost unnecessarily thick and the seat comfort and position makes you feel as though you are about to sit down for brandy in the drawing room rather than join thousands of other motorists on the roads. It’s that aspect of the Arnage that makes me want to be driven around in one rather than to drive one myself. I guess there’s always the ubiquitous Continental GT if you want that level of luxury and space with a bit more engagement.

I've often felt that one car is not enough.

There is no car that can do everything well, even if there are a few great all-rounders out there. This was a constant concern for me when I lived in Aberdeen; I would want a sports car for making the most of the open roads in the summer but would require a 4x4 to help me survive the winter. I could only have one car practically-speaking so I ended up changing more often than I would have liked.

There is the experiential side of things to consider as well, something that is probably exacerbated by reading too many car magazines in my case. I don't always want to drive the same car, in the same way that I don't want to eat the same thing every day, or wear the same style clothes every day. It's boring. If you like cars and you like driving then you want to have different experiences and will probably appreciate that a given car might be more fun (or practical) in a given situation.

For example, I would love to have a Renaultsport Clio as I know that they are great fun on normal roads and on track, and I have fond memories of driving them. Having seen a Caterham scythe through the countryside at the classic car rally in Scotland the other week, and knowing how highly they are rated by the motoring press, I can't help but want to have one of those at hand as well. Of course a capable and luxurious car that is capable of sprited and comfortable driving on a jaunt to the south of France would be great; maybe a Bentley Brooklands or even the unloved Ferrari 612 Scaglietti.

It is no surprise then that wealthy people often have a number of cars; after all, they have the money and the space to own multiple cars of their choosing. However, what does surprise me is that many people take such formulaic and obvious choices as to what to buy. It's a matter of taste at the end of the day but I would always prefer a more eclectic mix; something that takes in old and new and has a focus on the fun of driving. I've become quite attracted to the idea of modern classics lately, not least for the benefits that they offer in avoiding any kind of depreciation - something that you think would appeal to people astute enough to make themselves lots of money.

To be fair, you get a bit spoilt living in central London. The latest Ferraris and Aston Martins are all over the place so it becomes a greater novelty when someone tells me that they have a Lotus Esprit or a classic Porsche 911. These cars stand out and give you the impression that the owner really put some thought into the purchase, even if value was a primary consideration.

I recently attended a charity garden party knowing that the host would be displaying his cars on the lawn but not knowing quite what to expect. I wasn’t sure whether he was a wealthy guy that simply liked having a few nice cars or a true enthusiast with a well-considered collection. In the past he had owned a Ferrari F430 and an Aston Martin Vanquish but that was all I knew, so I was pleasantly surprised to see that this guy is a pretty serious collector.

The first thing you saw was a row of motorsport cars, all Ferraris, some GT cars and then two F1 cars which had been driven by Alain Prost and Rubens Barrichello. The Ferrari theme continued with the road cars, with two 550 Barchettas (one left-hand drive which is being shipped off to California), a 599 and an F40. There were even two Jaguar XJ220s, one for the road and one motorsport derivative, alongside a couple of vintage Jaguars and a Honda NSX. However, there was one car that really stood out - the Ferrari FXX.

There were only 29 of these track-only cars sold to Ferrari's most loyal customers (and one made for Michael Schumacher), at a cost of €1.5m plus taxes each. The cars were based on the Ferrari Enzo but utilised F1 technology much more heavily. 'Client Test Drivers' would take part in a series of track events over three continents over the course of two years, supported by Ferrari engineers, technicians and test drivers, as to gather data that would help develop future 'extreme GT cars'. Delivering 800bhp from its 6.3 litre V12 engine (or 860bhp with the Evoluzione upgrade that was developed based upon the initial two-year programme), a gearshift time of 80ms (60ms in Evoluzione form), and bespoke Bridgestone tyres and Brembo brakes it must be unbelievable to drive; it certainly looks like it as you can hear here.

As far as I'm concerned, a guy that owns one of these is truly passionate about cars. It is certainly a connoisseur's choice.

This short clip shows the final couple of minutes as we approach the top of Col de la Bonette before stopping to enjoy the spectacular views.

I want to share a couple of short video clips to give you an idea of the drive up the Col de la Bonette in France. It was truly stunning yet felt so remote that you could have been in almost any country in the world.

This first one is about ten minutes away from the summit, by which point we have already climbed a significant altitude in a short space of time.

In many ways I've been a bit reluctant to write about the final day of driving on this section of the road trip, I think because I was similarly reluctant for the trip to end. It's amazingly exciting to get up every morning and set off on roads you've never travelled to places that you've never been. Doing so in a Ferrari further adds to that feeling and throws in a good dose of adrenaline at times too. It's a car that keeps you on your toes and sucks you into the driving process, seemingly even when you're in the passenger seat.

I had high hopes for the Col de la Bonette, if you'll excuse the pun. As the highest road in Europe it was sure to be spectacular and our excellent experience driving across the Fluela Pass had shown us how good mountain roads could be. By contrast, we had been very disappointed to find that the Stelvio Pass was still shut due to snow and ice on the road and had been some ten days early for its opening. I was sure to do my research properly this time and discovered that the Col was open.

Once you turn off the main road at Jausiers the road quickly starts to climb and, before you know it, you are faced with hairpin after hairpin, with butterfly-inducing drops to the side. It became clear very quickly that this would be no drivers' road and would not compare to the enjoyment of the previous couple of hours from an out-and-out driving perspective. Once you realise that you can just settle back, take it easy and enjoy the spectacular scenery.

It really is stunning up there and, at the time we were there, still very much covered in snow aside from the roads which had been ploughed recently, creating huge glacial-looking banks in sections. You just seem to climb and climb, onwards and upwards, wondering if it is ever going to come to a summit. Of course it does eventually, once you've passed some brave cyclists and the obligatory motorbike parade, the road reaching an altitude of 2,715 metres. There is another small road that goes around the peak and goes a little higher still but it was still snow-covered at the time.

Photos taken and driver switch-over completed and we were soon heading down the other side towards the Cote D'Azur. This section of the road seemed to have been more affected by rocks and gravel having either fallen off the mountain or been carried by melting snow. Either way it meant stopping at least once to move rocks out of the road so that we could continue downwards and back towards some greenery.

Much like earlier in the day, we soon found that the roads on this side of the Col de la Bonette were better for actual driving despite the fact we had assumed they were simply a means to an end. The roads that run past the ski town of Isola and on, down valleys that follow the river Var to the sea were some of the best experienced in the whole trip. They were beautiful, generally well-surfaced, varied and almost deserted. The fact that this route was scattered with tunnels gave us plenty of chance to really enjoy the wailing sound of the F355 as we pushed through each of the gears to 8,250rpm where the car's peak power of 380bhp is delivered.

Before we knew it, we were back amongst the Sunday traffic and seeing signs for places we knew. Thirty minutes later we switched off the engine for the last time and went for a beer.

Leaving Turin early on a Sunday morning meant that we were soon turning off the motorway and passing through numerous small towns, as we climbed constantly towards the mountains that join the south-east of France with the north-east of Italy. The further we travelled the less frequent the towns and villages and the more deserted the roads.

The bulk of the traffic during this segment of the journey were motorcyclists who also wanted to make the most of the fine weather and quiet, challenging driving roads. At times they were frustrating, accelerating off on the straights and then getting in the way on the corners. We would stop to take a few photos only for a large group of motorcyclists to whizz by, ready to hold us up again.

We actually didn't mind at all and I was pleased to see others enjoying the joys of motoring in what felt like a remote corner of Europe blessed with unrestricted driving roads.

As it turned out, the Colle della Maddalena that connects Cuneo in Italy and Barcelonnette in France was one of the best drivers' roads that we experienced in the course of the trip. The video clip below gives an idea of how fun this road is.

I must confess, heading away from Modena left me feeling a little bit flat. After the epic drive across the Alps and the excitement of visiting Maranello and the Pagani factory, the idea of driving to Turin via Lake Como seemed a bit dull.

The plan was to stick to the main roads and go for lunch by the lake before having a look at the auction cars at Villa Erba before they went under the hammer as part of the Villa d'Este Concorso d'Eleganza later that night. We had left it too late to get passes for the actual concours event at Villa d'Este and this meant missing out on seeing some of the world's most exclusive cars and catching a glimpse of the new Aston Martin V12 Zagato which seemed to grab all the headlines.

Peeling off the main roads and approaching Lake Como for the first time quickly dispelled any doubts I may have had about our plans for the day. The area is simply stunning - the deep inky blue of the water a constant feature as you meander through small towns and blast through sections of tunnel - and I can easily understand why it is such a desirable place to live or have a house.

Spencer had been given the recommendation to check out Locanda dell'Isola Comacina, a restaurant on an island on Lake Como in which they have been serving the same set menu since 1947. Parking space found, we worked our way down to the shore and took a small boat over to the island, watching trout swimming in the shallows before climbing the steps up to the restaurant which is nestled amongst rocks and lush greenery. Sat amongst couples out for a romantic Saturday lunch - and subject to a few questioning glances as to our own relationship - we were soon tucking into fresh local food and enjoying a glass of wine, feeling pretty good about life.

Arriving at Villa Erba, some 15 minutes further down the lake, we managed to get parked in an area reserved for supercars and classics and only a stone's throw from the entrance. We knew we only had an hour before the event closed and before the organisers made their final preparations for the auction that evening but that would be more than enough to get a feel for things. I hadn't had a chance to view the catalogue online before arriving and had no idea how diverse the collection would be, the most memorable cars being a number of weird and wonderful Bertone concept cars such as the 1980 Lamborghini Athon (below). There were some older cars too, including the gorgeous Talbot-Lago Teardrop which was reportedly sold for an impressive €3,136,000.

It would have been interesting to see what the demand for these cars was at the auction (you can read a report on the Octane website here), but it was soon time to get back on the motorway, this time heading towards Turin. We quickly started to enjoy these stretches of the journey during our time in Italy. Maybe the roads weren't exciting or challenging 'drivers' roads' but you can make rapid progress, especially as the Italian drivers are quick to vacate the fast lane when they see a Ferrari in their rear-view mirror. In fact, a few accidents near Modena aside, the driving standards in Northern Italy seemed good and far removed from the stories of Italian road-based insanity I had heard from people back home.

There are always a few idiots of course. Spencer and I watched with a combination of shock and amusement as a cigarette-smoking Mercedes driver pulled right up behind us in the fast lane of the motorway at what could be described as 'a reasonable speed', before proceeding to undertake us and then scything through the traffic ahead, to and fro across the lanes for as far as the eye could see.

For us these sections of the journey were a matter of efficiency rather than idiocy; a means to get us between places of interest and to the real drivers' roads I had built into the itinerary. The next day would see us heading for the Alpes Maritimes and hopefully some deserted roads en route to the Cote D'Azur and the end of this section of the road trip.