Mini Countryman John Cooper Works: Party at the front, business at the back

It is never a good start to a weekend when you are running late and you have stepped in dog sh*t. Leaving London is always a stress. Despite living east, we always go west, which means I have to drive through it — ‘it’ being ‘most of central London’. It is an agony. There are too many cars, too many mopeds and the average London driver loses all sense of reason and logic and is consumed almost entirely by rage and fuelled by talk radio.

That’s why it’s important to leave early or, at least, on time and not covered in some dog’s former lunch. Beat the traffic, beat the insanity, make it out of the M25 before the capital’s roads and drivers turn you into the worst version of yourself. That’s the idea, anyway. It didn’t work out like that.

Work overran. Me and my partner had an argument about whether we needed to hoover or not (we didn’t). A friend who was hitching a lift was late, delaying departure. And then 15 minutes to wash and change some shoes. All the while, the (deep breath) Mini John Cooper Works Countryman All4 Sport sat there, getting warm in the late-June sun, with a 3.5 hour drive ahead of us.

The Mini Countryman first appeared on the roads in 2010 and everyone was upset for a little while. Is there a more iconic brand than Mini? The shape, the name, the Italian Job. There is one thing that a Mini is supposed to be, and you will get no prizes for guessing what that is. The headlines wailed. ‘What Part of “Mini” Did You Not Grasp, BMW?’, hissed the Pulitzer Prize winning journalist Dan Neil in 2011.

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But, and this happens very rarely I promise, the journalists got it wrong. People liked the Mini Countryman. They liked it very much. So much, in fact, that within a year of going on sale it was selling in astonishing numbers. As it turns out, people like Minis, but they also like Minis you can put things in. Who knew? BMW, it seems. Those Germans, with their totally sensible thinking.

I suppose it is a fair criticism, because to a lot of people a Mini is a car. I was mildly suspicious of the Countryman when I first saw it, but then again I am suspicious of a lot of things, such as people who drink iced coffee and play board games as adults. The idea of a big ‘Mini’ is a contradiction in terms, I suppose, but Mini these days is a brand, and brands that only make one car don’t tend to last very long. Not all of us are pinching gold from Italian mobsters or rallying at the weekend. Sometimes we just want to take our dogs to the park or go to Glastonbury.

So what is Mini then, if not a small car? I suppose it is fun. Ever since its conception in the 1960s, the Mini has been everything that is the best of Britain. It was cheap, stylish, and punched well above its weight both literally and metaphorically. It’s a cheeky little thing that has morphed into a cheeky little brand. Jack-the-lad on four wheels.

It’s nice that people are making fun cars and it doesn’t take long to realise just how fun the Countryman can be. Start with the central console, with its luminous and circular infotainment system that is brighter and more whimsical than a Pride march. Cycle through the various pre-programmed modes (I liked ‘Go Kart’). The door handles are different. The pedals are fun little ovals instead of squares. Even the air-conditioning vents are 90º from where they should be.

All of it says: ‘relax, have some fun, you’re stuck in here for the next three hours so let’s not worry too much about the traffic and the dog sh*t and the inevitable rain when you get to wherever you’re going’. Sometimes, it’s nice not to be treated like you're on a business trip.

On the road: Mini Countryman John Cooper Works

Price: from £42,750

Power: 300bhp

0-62mph: 5.4 sec

Fuel efficiency: 35.3-36.2mpg

Top speed: 155mph (limited)

Carbon: 180-177g/km

With my particular review model, the fun didn’t stop there. The JCW has a 2.0-litre turbocharged petrol engine that spits out 300bhp, meaning the car is fast. 0-62mph is handled in 5.4 seconds and the engine lets out a satisfying roar when really put to use in the high-rev ranges. It feels very composed on windy roads with four-wheel drive too, meaning that there is joy to be had when off the M-whatever.

But it is, of course, very practical. Motorway miles are eaten quietly and smoothly, and with a 500-litre rear boot space, as well as five good-size seats, you can bring a lot of things with you. Even zipping around the city is plenty enjoyable — the steering is sharp, and the car feels a lot smaller than it is.

There are downsides to the JCW edition. It’s not as efficient as it could be (especially when putting the engine to work) and it chews up a bit more carbon than the standard models. I also didn’t love the feel of the dash material, which felt and looked a bit cheap on what is the top-of-the-line model. I also think the exterior styling is a little bit uninspiring compared to more recent Mini models.

But back to the interiors. This is, inevitably, where you are going to spend most of your time when driving the car. It is a supremely fun and entertaining space to be. And when you are running late, and with ruined shoes, that makes all the difference.

So, despite its size, the Countryman is very much a Mini. And those Germans can keep on making any cars they feel like, as long as they keep on making them fun.