Forget the Nürburgring Nordschleife, this is tough. Our drive of the ex-Rod Stewart AC MkIV Lightweight – in canary yellow and booming venomous intent through its side exhausts – begins in the middle of North London’s rush hour, and it’s possibly the sternest introduction to a Cobra you could endure.

We’ve just left Hendon Way Motors, which is selling the Lightweight, and it’s a car that grabs you by the eyeballs, then forcibly pulls you in to assault your senses. That all-encompassing experience merely begins with the colour, that retina-searing shade of yellow, specified by first owner Rod Stewart. But its story is far from straightforward.

First a quick history lesson. The AC Cobra MkIV came into existence because of Brian Angliss, his single-minded pursuit of perfection, and 
the peculiar situation that arose during the early 1970s when AC Thames Ditton refused to service and repair older Cobras. Angliss’s Cobra Parts operation picked up that business and, thanks to a reputation for high-quality work, built up a strong and influential customer base.

He also moved closer to the factory operation over the years, eventually collecting enough original tooling from Thames Ditton to fabricate new aluminium bodies. Angliss’s company then became Autokraft, which began offering the MkIV (it picked up from the last Cobra MkIIIs, built in 1967) primarily in the USA. In 1986, the Hurlock family, which controlled AC, sold its controlling interest and ownership of AC passed to Autokraft and Ford.

By then the MkIV was sold as a genuine AC Cobra (outside the USA), and was powered by a 351ci Ford Windsor V8 (later models had the 302 with 225bhp). It was a quality car but maybe lacked a bit in raw performance (225bhp meant the MkIV was quick, but no match for the original car), and its interior used modern Ford-style switchgear and creature comforts.

And that’s where the Lightweight – like Rod Stewart’s car – comes in. Potential customers, spurred on by the classic car boom of the late ’80s, approached Angliss with a view to producing a more ‘period’ Cobra – and for over £100,000 each, AC was happy to deliver a stripped-out version. The Lightweight was unveiled in 1990, featuring a dashboard much more like the 1960s original’s and a 350bhp V8 under the bonnet. Then along came a worldwide economic recession…

Rod Leach (whose Nostalgia firm has been selling Cobras since the early ’70s) was the unofficial PR officer for AC at the time, handling sales of all UK cars. He well remembers Stewart’s Lightweight. ‘I bought this car for HR Owen but, unbeknown to me, it had already been pre-sold to Hexagon, who had pre-sold it to Rod Stewart,’ he says. These were clearly crazy times. ‘I ordered the car in British Racing Green, with a green interior. I saw it in the factory and it looked absolutely beautiful.’

	Crawling into another late-evening traffic jam gives us chance to ponder the Lightweight, and come to the conclusion that Rod Stewart made an astute purchase – his Lightweight feels just how a Cobra should.

Stewart demanded the change of hue: yellow was the favourite colour of his girlfriend, Rachel Hunter, and the car was intended as a wedding present. Within days of leaving the factory, the Lightweight was back for new paint, a complete retrim, and a pair of side-exit exhausts.

That amounted to £60,000 worth of work, not least because fitting those exhausts is a big job: the steering column needed re-routing, the pedal box and floor had to be modified, and the car had to be completely rewired. The arrival of the Lightweight in the Stewart family coincided with the kick-off of Stewart’s world tour, and the car took pride of place 
on the brochure for the event.

Stewart kept the car a few years before trading it in at Maranello Concessionaires, which sold it on. ‘Maranello told me that a diminutive Chinese lady, possibly a princess, bought it,’ Leach smiles. ‘She needed wooden blocks attached to the pedals and the seat raised.’

Needless to say she didn’t keep the Lightweight, and that’s why – via 
a further owner who ended up trading it because he didn’t like the 
colour – the car’s now for sale at Hendon Way Motors. And we’re about 
to trickle out into the London traffic. After taking a little time to admire 
the deep paintwork, and seamless interior fit and finish, familiarisation with the snug-fitting cabin is a straightforward affair. With legs outstretched, a firm grip on the tiny steering wheel and one elbow over the side, all feels right with the world.

But how a Chinese princess came to own this car should be cause 
for a steward’s enquiry. In town, the steering is heavy to the point of perspiration, and the effort expended in pushing in the clutch is more 
akin to a heavy treadmill work-out – despite that, all the controls feel and respond accurately and consistently. Clearly this is a car that’s been 
prepared for fast driving, not city trickling.

Once the mental shift is made, and you’ve adjusted to the sheer 
amount of attention that a bright yellow Cobra with side-pipes attracts, driving the car is huge fun. That rumbustious exhaust note is amplified here, and your right foot is composing such an addictively rumbling song that you’ll play with the gears and throttle just to hear those  crackles and bangs bounce off nearby buildings.

Soon the traffic clears, and the grey confines of London make way for the more verdant lanes of Hertfordshire, and we’re finally able to get a fuller understanding of what makes the Lightweight so special. Its acceleration is stunning – from a standstill, it will reach 60mph in 4.1 seconds – although the biggest thrill is running from 5mph to 70mph using only fourth gear. In fourth, it’s still quicker than most sports cars when you wring them out through the ratios.

Because the Lightweight is wonderfully tractable and has such an elastic power delivery, changing gear becomes something you do merely for pleasure. The long-throw shift – like the rest of the control set – is heavy and deliberate, but it’s also millimetrically precise. And that makes it an absolute joy to master.

The steering, as with the gearchange, is heavy in the city, and 
thankfully it gets better with speed. Its action is transformed into something positive, direct and feelsome that’s perfectly judged for 
high-speed sweepers and tightening corners – although it likes to kick back on badly maintained British backroads.

 It feels light, agile and responsive; but although the Cobra wears huge rubber and delivers copious mechanical grip, a sense of prudence causes the driver to handle a twisting route with a slow-in, medium-out, fast-down-the-straight approach for maximum piece of mind. The Cobra’s widowmaker reputation, it seems, will live with it forever.

Heading back to the city it becomes clear that, although many UK Cobras ended up prowling around London (according to those who sell them), it’s utterly wasted here. Green turns back to grey, speeds drop, and any car designed to go fast is never going to be at its best.

Crawling into another late-evening traffic jam gives us chance to ponder the Lightweight, and come to the conclusion that Rod Stewart made an astute purchase – his Lightweight feels just how a Cobra 
should. It’s fast, it sounds amazing, it looks like no other car – well, 
no other car except a ’60s Cobra. What the Lightweight does so brilliantly is to combine the genuine hardcore Cobra experience on the open road with a lack of temperament in the city. And that means it passes its sternest test with flying colours. Bright yellow, in fact.