Even now I'm not quite sure how it happened. The process of choosing a replacement for my trusty Ford Focus 1.8 Zetec had all started very normally, with the usual lengthy scrutiny of magazine reviews, hours spent poring over brochures and fruitless evenings wasted scouring Autotrader.

My desire was to find something quick but refined, comfortable yet stylish, economical and well-equipped, with warranty remaining. Oh, and it had to be a bit unusual as well. Not much to ask, then.

Inspiration struck unexpectedly while reading a giant hot hatch test in which this invisible contender in the souped-up shopping car sector had won praise for its brutish good looks and monster powertrain. One phone call, two test-drives and a visit to the building society later and, to my surprise, I found myself driving home one frosty December evening in an 04-reg Mégane Renaultsport 225 resplendent in smouldering Inferno paintwork.

Since then I have enjoyed getting to know my mad Renault. Its pièce de résistance is undoubtedly its firebrand of an engine. Swelling with turbocharged torque and blessed with a fearsome top end and searing soundtrack, it's as angry an engine as you'll find in a family hatch, albeit hooked up to a slightly gristly gear change. Yet this is no peaky, temperamental thoroughbred of a motor. It will pull strongly from low revs and if you want to mooch around town or cruise quietly down the motorway, it will oblige happily with serene refinement and mid-30s mpg. What it really wants to do though, is open its taps and haul that shakin' ass forward with indecent urge, and it is when doing this that it delivers its best work. Beyond the strong low end, the rev needle zings round the dial and bounces off the limiter with zesty enthusiasm. The sheer speed it conjures through second, third and fourth gears is enough to take the fight to supposedly more pedigree machinery. Impreza WRX and Honda S2000 drivers beware: you will not lose this car!

The chassis dynamics are a bit of a mixed bag but it's perfectly competent and, crucially, the car delivers the goods on the Fosse Way, whose lumpen surface and evil dips and crests make it my acid test road. The 225 rides well on its 18" rims and 40 profile tyres soaking up the bumps and ruts of my country lane commute with aplomb. The relative crudity of the torsion beam rear end sometimes tells over testing blacktop after the Control Blade composure of the Focus, and the car can squirm under braking on uneven surfaces, but it has no serious vices and hasn't yet sprung any nasty surprises. What it does serve up is plenty of grip and strong traction, so that 225bhp and 221 lb·ft rarely trouble the Conti SportContact 2s up front. Torque steer is well suppressed most of the time thanks to the revised front suspension layout, although the wheel does tug if you ask for full acceleration on a lumpy surface.

The steering is one of the weaker aspects of the drive, and is not a patch on the fluid hydraulic set-up of my old Ford. The rack is precise, weighting is well-judged and generally consistent, but its reaction to external inputs such as ridges or a bumpy apex can disappoint, causing the helm a moment of uncertainty, during which it briefly lightens, arcade game-style, before restoring itself to full strength. This felt a bit alien at first, but it's evidently characteristic of the fully electric assistance.

The Brembo brakes are generally strong but fade-prone, even though my car is fitted with drilled front discs from the Cup. The pedal doesn't impart much in the way of feel and it can be difficult to modulate your efforts confidently and precisely, particularly when releasing the brakes, as the response at the sharp end does not quite seem to equate to inputs on the middle pedal. The stoppers seem to respond well to press-on driving, but repeated heavy braking sees them wilt - the roundabouts of Milton Keynes are a killer for them! When this happens the usually unobtrusive anti-lock starts to chip in unhelpfully.

Moving inside, the interior is an attractive and comfortable place to spend time, with classy dials and some decent materials. The driving position is quite elevated but nevertheless offers good support and a wide range of adjustment, although my slender frame feels a bit lost between the chunky bolsters of the seat backrest. The kit count is of the kitchen sink variety: keyless entry and start, auto lights and wipers, auto-dimming mirror, cruise control, trip computer, tyre pressure monitor, CD changer, electrically folding door mirrors, eight airbags and so on. If only it weren't so rattly - my glove box is currently the worst clattering culprit, and while the application of a finger to the lid stops it, no amount of judiciously placed foam has been able to banish the noise.

This grumble leads me neatly on to what has been the least endearing aspect of my first foray into Renault ownership - the constant spectre of niggles. So far the car has made five or six trips to the dealer to have faults seen to including keyless entry not living up to the simple promise of its name, misaiming xenons, failed speakers, malfunctioning switches and noisy brakes.

The grief I experienced getting some of these glitches sorted out meant it didn't take long for me to lose all faith in the dealer that supplied the car and with Renault Customer Services for their laissez-faire ineptitude, but thankfully I have discovered another garage locally that seems much more helpful. It's amazing how decent after sales can make all the difference to a car's ownership appeal - I don't want lacklustre treatment to spoil my enjoyment of a car that I like, from a marque whose esoteric brand values I admire.

STOP PRESS! Clearly the steroidal engine was not enough to keep me faithful to the flawed charms of the 225. After five months of living with it, I have been tempted away from the rip-snorting Renault by something with a modicum less power and a leaner torque curve, but which boasts a further two cylinders and drive to the rear wheels. Can you guess what it is yet? Watch this space…