Chrysler PT Cruiser: Falling in love with an American dream

Janet Street Porter puts her dodgy motoring past behind her as she steps out in the PT cruiser

When it comes to choosing a car, my taste is best described as eccentric. Thankfully I've never undergone any form of analysis, because it doesn't taken an IQ the size of Einstein's to work out that JSP vehicles (with one notable exception) have been about style and never about practical considerations.

When it comes to choosing a car, my taste is best described as eccentric. Thankfully I've never undergone any form of analysis, because it doesn't taken an IQ the size of Einstein's to work out that JSP vehicles (with one notable exception) have been about style and never about practical considerations.

I've never changed a tyre and recently filled the radiator with screen wash. I owned a four-wheel drive vehicle for eight years and never used that second gear stick thingy on the floor. When heading north through a blizzard I got my travelling companion to read from the manual out loud as we dribbled along at walking pace. I'm a four ex-husbands, no offspring or pets person, spending my time in central London, Kent or Yorkshire. I don't have a car in the city. What's wrong with walking, the underground or taxis at night?

Gear changing is one of those skills like faithfulness, I've yet to comprehend. Because my bossy dad tried to teach me to drive when I was 14 and I reversed the family car into a hedge in a field outside Aldeburgh, I didn't get behind another steering wheel until I was in my thirties and living in California.

When I returned home and bought an ice-blue Daimler with navy blue leather upholstery which boiled over every time we were in traffic. Once I nipped into Fortnums and bought six bottles of mineral water to avert disaster in Piccadilly. Then I had a BMW I crashed at Hyde Park corner after overtaking a Citroen 2CV on the inside. Then I had a long and happy affair with a Mercedes SLC, with a mahogany dashboard, a gorgeous sound system and gleaming paintwork. I traded that in for a top of the Range Discovery in which I commuted weekly to Yorkshire.

Now I keep a car for my trips to Yorkshire which is so embarrassing my own sister will not get in it - a Corsa. It exudes no sexual charisma whatsoever, the motoring equivalent of an embarrassing shag, except it's still around. Now it's definitely time to give it the heave-ho and head for something stylish, comfortable, a bit gorgeous... and automatic.

I can't watch motoring programmes because their tone irritates me. My new car will be chosen because someone I respect already has it, not someone with a name like Tiff. Recently I went to a dinner for the architect Frank Gehry.

Among the diners was the architect Zaha Hadid. When it was time to go, Zaha very kindly offered me a lift in her car, which came complete with a driver! I was very impressed. Zaha's limousine was a Chrysler PT Cruiser. With four doors it was strangely reminiscent of a 1950's American car, and very comfortable.

A phone call to Chrysler PR and one was delivered to my home in Clerkenwell for me to test drive. I had already logged on to the website, but the promised brochure never arrived - a bit too laid back for me. I drove up to Stratford on Avon for a canal walk, then cruised on next day to the Birmingham NEC to give a talk at the Outdoors Show.

The car is really roomy inside, and the paintwork - a metallic glittery navy blue - is quite wonderful. In fact I could have sex with anyone with bodywork that seductive. The dashboard is wittily retro, but perfectly practical, and the windscreen is at a normal nice angle, not that irritating sloped affair you get with so many cars these days. I had considered buying a Mini Cooper (and only cancelled it at the last minute) - this car is far more suited to long journeys and motorways, especially, if like me, you're six foot tall. The hatchback boot was spacious, and although the back seats had headrests, I took those off and stowed them for better visibility in the rear view mirror. In low gear the car sounded a bit like a diesel, but it was surprisingly nippy and we were soon whizzing along the M40 at 90mph.

The car has heated front seats, which I would never use. I turned them on once in a rented car, and thought I had wet myself! More importantly the front seats have good adjustable lumbar support which I really need as I have had two spinal operations.

I fell in love with the car, with it's funny hubcaps, curvaceous bonnet and retro steering wheel, complete with spokes. In short, the Chrysler is a bit of a laugh, and not expensive for all that design. My period of motoring shame could be over - I want to be the one with a piece of gorgeousness waiting in the hotel car park.