It’s surprisingly comfortable, too. The suspension is firm, sure, but really well damped, not harsh and supremely controlled, to the point where I tended to leave the dampers in their stiffest mode. When road test ed Matt Saunders drove a Touring prototype in the UK, he found it coped well with bumpy Welsh roads, too, so the M5s new-found compliance ought to translate.
Which isn’t to say the M5 has become a laid-back cruiser: all that chassis tech gives it plenty of tools to entertain, up to a point. To no-one’s surprise, the adaptive suspension ensures tight body control, while the 285- and 295-section tyres generate enormous grip.
Select 4WD Sport and the halfway-house M Dynamic stability control modes, and all the systems work together to rotate the M5 neatly out of turns and inject an accessible and non-perilous sense of humour into what could be a very serious car. On a good road you can get into a nice flow, and the 2.5 tonnes melt away. Almost.
Push beyond that, though, and it can start to feel a little like uncharted territory. The steering doesn’t give much feedback, and I never felt sure whether I was going to get brutal traction, a gentle slide or a spike of oversteer. That’s probably when driving harder than most owners will tend to do, and I’m sure that on a track, in two-wheel drive mode, the M5 will still make a wonderful smoke machine.