This is fast – faster than any 17-year-old Honda has a right to be. I’m sitting level with the gravel in Honda’s F1-inspired supercar, effortlessly negotiating wildly winding ribbons of tar with no drama at all. My peripheral vision has been reduced to no more than a frenetic blur as the rockface to my left and the exquisite Gordon’s Bay to my right melt into a kaleidoscope of colours, all to the tune of the NSX’s raucous V6 mill. There’s lots of punch, mainly due to Honda’s seminal VTEC technology, still in its infancy in this iteration. At the coast, humble 1600cc Honda Civic hatchbacks packing this trick multi-valve head have out-dragged counterparts from other marques with much bigger powerplants. Imagine then, for a moment, what the NSX’s all-aluminium 3 litre V6 DOHC VTEC feels like at 8300r/min, in second gear, as we clock 110km/h. Revel with us as the scream of the mid-mounted transverse lump echoes off the cliff walls. And trust us when we say that in the NSX, we have found a truly selfish revelation: driving nirvana.

Fortune favours the brave
Pity it’s never going to be any more than a super exclusive drive. The NSX we’re sampling is one of just five in the country, this one cosseted by Marius Claassen, owner of the Somerset West Honda Helderberg dealership. When his salesmen punt Honda’s reliability to potential clients, he can take quiet confidence in knowing the validity of their claims. After all, he has a 1991 Honda at home that hasn’t skipped a beat in all its years of service. In supercar terms, this is unheard of uptime. Originally imported by Daimler-Benz in 1991 to raise the profile of their Honda stock (and no doubt to make the ultimate director’s car), this NSX had a tumultuous journey. ‘The previous owner had traded it in for another Honda. I saw my opportunity and grabbed it,’ says Marius.
Good thinking, even if we’re perplexed at the thought of trading in an NSX. For another Honda. What would that net? A fleet of Ballades? While Marius confesses to not driving the NSX enough, he more than makes up for it by taking me for a spirited blast up the mountain road that meanders off the coast and up to the Steenbras Dam. With right foot firmly planted, Marius effortlessly traverses the many bends en route to the top, the V6 soundtrack dropping to a grumble then screaming to a crescendo around each turn. It was my turn at the wheel next, an honour I was sure to relish.

Pin-up credentials
I have spent far too many years ogling the NSX, spread on the pages of glossy performance magazines and ‘live’ on a plethora of websites and videos. Youtube and Google are my beste maats when I get these urges, and I often do. Imagine my fears (and giddy excitement) on hearing that I would come face to face with the object of my affection. You see, I know that if I ever met Angelina Jolie, I’d be totally underwhelmed by the real deal. Similarly Miss Berry and Miss Diaz would disappoint without that veneer of gloss and airbrushing to dazzle me. When mere inches from our fantasies we’re seldom satisfied, and I didn’t want years of idolisation to just melt away; I liked the pedestal I had reserved for the NSX.
But the proof is in the pudding, fortune favours the brave, et al, and I’m happy to report that my initial encounter was a sweet one.

The NSX has aged well, despite being definitively a product of late-1980s car styling. In the flesh it’s a fraction smaller than I envisaged, but still larger than life – especially when pitted against something from the Lotus stable.
While the wheels at each corner of this 1991 model are staid and unimaginative, that’s happily where my criticism ends. The rest of it is pure automotive erotica. Lavishly hued in its ‘Formula’ red factory paint, and parked in this exotic locale, you can fully appreciate the timeless design of this quick Honda. My favourite bit is its rear end, with that distinctive rear light and integrated spoiler. It’s almost as if the car taunts you with it, forcing your eyes to trail along its gorgeous airdam-creased flanks, capturing the sunlight straight from source and using it to accentuate its sweeping bonnet line. There’s unmistakable Italian DNA, sensually blended with a dozen other cues to create its distinctive profile. A bit Samurai Mafioso then? Passers-by are quick to liken it to recent Corvettes and they are not far wrong either.

If it sounds like I’m calling the NSX a flagrant tease, then you’ve heard me correctly. Every detail, from the concealed headlamps (later replaced with flush-fitting items) to the airdams splitting its sides, beckons me to climb inside. I do so with no drama at all. This car is extremely accommodating. Unlike supercars of old, or even the supercharged Elise we played with recently, no advanced yoga stretches or Kama Sutra contortions are required for entering and exiting the cabin.
Once nestled in the leathery confines of the racing buckets, I’m afraid you’ll find nothing else to get your heart racing. Blame the usual drab Japanese interior styling. In Honda’s defence, everything has been arranged with great care, with ergonomics easily on par with today’s better-penned vehicles. A dramatically raked dashboard covered in soft touch leather is pleasant to the fingertips and houses a period array of equipment including a cassette player, then cutting edge. The cruise control, wiper and headlamp stalks are garishly chunky – only bearable as they just avoid really getting in the driver’s way. And to finish is all off, the boffins at Honda covered everything in black, apart from a few dark grey highlights.
Then you notice the speedo, which tops out at a so-humble-it’s-ludicrous 180km/h. I mean, surely that’s attainable in third gear? What am I supposed to do with the other two notches on the gate? You see the NSX, like the Nissan GT-R, like the Toyota Supra and like the Mazda RX-7 rotary, are electronically limited to a top speed of 180km/h as a result of a strict highway code in their native Japan.

If we were testing on the Autobahn, I’d be livid. However, as luck would have it, I was about to launch down a stretch of real ‘driver’s road’ boasting more twisties than a swizzle stick and including one rather treacherous hairpin. A hairpin recently repaved with silky smooth brick. Oh dear.

All downhill from here
The NSX has been gifted with the holy grail of drivetrains: high-revving normally aspirated engine mounted amidships, driving the rear wheels. The result is spirited acceleration with zero power lag, and near-ideal weight distribution. What it also means is that I now possess the frightening potential of slamming one of the greatest track weapons ever into a wall. Or the ocean, whichever way my nose was last pointing.

With Marius safely booted from the cabin, and seatbelt firmly affixed, it was all systems go. Not wanting to detonate the clutch, I decide instead to feed in friction at a modest 2000r/min with nothing more than a chirrup of wheelspin to signal my departure. At lower engine speeds the V6 howl is subdued. Let me assure you this is merely the calm before the VTEC storm. The tacho climbs energetically, signalling clean and constant acceleration – until you hit 5800r/min. That’s when the cam profile changes, turning deep grumble to staccato bark and rocketing the tacho to the 8300r/min redline. That’s 200kW and 285Nm being sent to terra firm via the Bridgestone Potenzas, and it means another upshift. NOW. I snatch second, the revs climb rapidly to the 5800r/min sweet spot and in a flash we’re at 100km/h. Time to swap another cog, and fast! Third gear has longer legs but I’m forced to abandon it in favour of a dab on the brakes so I can negotiate the upcoming chicane. On this downhill run the NSX’s 1365kg kerb weight feels like a lot more, but those meaty 285mm discs have no problem reigning in the beast. I’m finding second surprisingly tractable, pulling me convincingly through a series of lefts and rights, down the next straight and through the next few turns. Third gear proves almost as useful for slaloming around cliff-flanked corners, but truly claims the straights as its domain. What a rush. The hairpin looms and I’ve just stupidly snapped into fourth. Error. I quickly drop back to third, clutch half engaged, toeing the brakes as my heel brings up the revs, into second and my balancing act is almost complete. It’s a right-hander so I position myself as far left as the road allows before tucking in hard and tight, crosshairs on the clipping point. A light flick of the wrist and a buried throttle mid-bend sees the rear end step out gently. A mild countersteer and subtle easing of the throttle, and the Honda glides through. Adrenaline surging, I’m impressed. After that, the rest of the downhill is a leisurely excursion in one of the most predictable cars I’ve ever piloted. Even negotiating the traffic-clogged 20km to Marius’ showroom is a pleasure in this everyday supercar. The waves, the whistles, the blank stares and the snapping cell phone cameras, belie the fact a mere Honda badge graces the nose.

Better than the sum of its parts
To call the NSX a quick car is akin to calling Miss Jolie a pretty girl – tragic understatement. Some wise-arse might insist that the new M3 could punish the Honda NSX around the Nurburg or some other Ring, and they’d be right. But it’s taken the super saloon crew two decades of development to catch up to something Honda built when the rivals were duelling it out in the hot hatchback crusade. Today the NSX’s adversaries span everything from an Audi R8 to the new Nissan GT-R. In short, it’s wholly outgunned. What Honda needs is a new champion, and the prognosis is good. The latest NSX mule is rumoured to have a front-mounted V10 under its bonnet in customary GT fashion, and has been seen lapping the Nordschleife in 7minutes and 37seconds. That’s 10 seconds off the pace of the mental Nissan GT-R with two years still to go to production. The legend will continue.