I bought the Williams solely on the back on one single article: Evo Performance Car of the Decade. A humble Hot Hatch taken to the hills of Wales and immensely enjoyed by some of the best wheel-men in the business, standing comparison against such cars as the Pagani Zonda, 550 Maranello and NSX Type R (and, of course, various Porsches) and going on to beat a fair few of them in the process. I'll have some of that.

Having previously run GTi versions of Peugeot's 205, 106 and 306, and a Renault 5 GT Turbo (for a very brief period, until it blew up), I was also keen to see how the Williams stacked up against these other Hot Hatch heroes. According to many a publication, the Williams is the best Hot Hatch ever; I wanted to make my own mind up.

And so, armed with about three grand (right at the bottom end of what Evo recommended in their Williams Buying Guide, but what the heck) and after a few searches of eBay, I managed to find a '94 Williams 2. I also had a bit of a hankering for a Corrado VR6 so I'd whittled it down to one example of each. Pitifully, it came down to laziness; the Corrado was 100 miles away and the Williams 10 miles away from my 'eager to empty' pockets. So the Willy it was.

I went over, haggled him down to £2,600 and - ignoring the fact that this was the first one I'd looked at and (at the time) was bottom money to be paying for a Williams - in January 2005 I joined the roller coaster-ride that is Williams ownership.

About £1,200 and eight months later, I'd decided that perhaps I'd not made the best purchase of my life. I'd still not driven another example but I knew it couldn't have been the same Williams taste Evo had enjoyed up on those Welsh highlands. And this one was leaving a bitter aftertaste in my mouth as well; problem after problem meant I never had much of a chance to enjoy what thrills it should be offering.

But it wasn't a wasted venture - it meant I was now armed with knowledge on what to look out for whilst searching for my next one (fools suffer gladly) and I'd found an invaluable source of information in the form of www.williamsclio.co.uk.

The forum was where I found my next Williams and where I sold the old one as well; for a £400 loss. So a total of £1,600 lost over eight months. On an old Clio. Oh dear. The new one was also a local one and, ok I'll admit, the first one I went to see again. But it was in a completely different league. It was up for £3,500 - which is about right for a decent Williams now - and I knew of the owner and how well he had looked after the car.

So, in August last year, I bought my second Williams 2 (self restraint has never been a strong point). But it was the right decision this time - the bodywork was immaculate, there were no problems with the history and it drove how I expected one to drive. Perfect.

Almost. When I went to pick the car up, something was wrong; one side was sitting proudly erect, with an obscenely huge gap under one of the wheel arches, the other as it should with the top of the tyre tucked neatly into the arch. Kindly, the seller had replaced a broken spring before I bought it. Unfortunately, the supplier didn't know his Clio Williams from his Clio 1.2 special edition Panache, and the spring fitted was about two inches longer and quite a bit softer than it should be.

Faced with having to replace both springs and top mount kits - which were also needed - I decided I may as well go the whole hog and replaced every single suspension component. That way, I was sure to be guaranteed the true Williams experience. So the springs and top mounts were replaced along with new shocks, bushes, tie-rods and ball joints. Genuine Renault parts, even with a 20% discount, meant a £500 parts bill but, along with a remedy for the tired-out steering column, some new tyres and a wheel alignment sorting-out, the results were better than I expected.

Keen to turn-in, beautifully neutral and understeer-resistant and with a fantastic keenness to punch out of corners with its torquey two-litre, the Williams is everything the magazines make out. It's almost as raw and uncompromising as the 205, as forgiving and cooperative as the 306, and has the same hard-arsed, substantial-feeling attitude as the GT Turbo. The Williams melds the finest attributes of the best-of-the-rest to provide what is easily one of the greatest driving experiences this side of a rear-drive sports car (and they're not guaranteed to better it).

But the aspect of this little car that really lifts it above its Hot Hatch rivals is its aura and uniqueness. The bulging bonnet with gaping vent, the perfectly judged ride height and squat, four-square stance, the blistered arches filled perfectly with those gold Speedline alloys, and the contrasting 449 Sport Blue paint scheme; they all combine to make the Willy look more special than any budget hatchback has a right to. And then there's the inside; comfortably accommodating but ever-so supportive bucket seats, a purposeful-looking string of blue dials and - if you're lucky enough to have an original Williams - a small gold numbered plaque.

As you can tell, I'm happy with it. And with an as-new feel to the chassis and well-maintained running-gear backing it all up, I now have the car I was expecting. And what fun. Now, which way to those Super Car-infested Welsh Wigglies…