Drop into the slender cockpit and your proper arm falls naturally outdoors the bodywork. You sit behind a easy four-spoke, leather-rimmed steering wheel dealing with a sublime sprint of turned aluminium, inset with a scattering of small dials and an extra-deep cubby. To this point, so classic. The leather-trimmed two-seat bench (behind which is 155 litres of stowage area) could be adjusted fore and aft and also you sit low contained in the automotive along with your legs roughly straight in entrance of you.

Thumb the starter and the V-twin thumps into life. Pedal controls are mild – maybe a little bit too mild – and it takes just a few miles to acclimatise to the push-pull, aluminium-topped Citroën gearshift sprouting from the sprint, with its slender gate and dog-leg first.There’s no hood, so the curved scuttle and tiny Perspex display screen are your solely safety towards the weather. At 5ft 7in, I needed to hunker all the way down to keep away from being within the airflow, so anybody taller would want goggles.

However make no mistake: the T24 is an absolute hoot to drive. You watch the thin, 18in, spoked entrance wheels, shod with correct classic cross-ply tyres, working away in entrance of you, however the experience is genuinely chic: supple, managed and quiet.

The engine, which sends old-school vibrations by way of the physique at decrease revs, quickly smooths and from 3500rpm pulls enthusiastically as much as its 7750rpm redline, accompanied by a vocal however totally infectious soundtrack. The rack-and-pinion steering is pretty low-geared, so you end up working fairly onerous by way of tighter bends if you’re in control. However the advantages of that low centre of gravity imply tight and really unvintage physique management, with solely entrance grip limiting your final cornering velocity.