The 991 Carrera 4 GTS Cabriolet Proves That Even The 'Wrong' Porsche 911 Is Pretty Damn Special

As I study the the bright red Porsche gingerly manoeuvring onto my driveway - very nearly catching its ultra low front splitter on the ground in the process - I notice a few things. I clocked the ‘Carrera 4’ badge on its bum as it arrived, so I know it’s the four-wheel drive model. I see a set of paddle shifters, signifying that it’s the automatic PDK version. Oh, and the reason I can see those shifters is because the roof is down. Yep, it’s a cabriolet. All of this together is pretty much exactly the opposite of what I’d look for in a 911.

Attempting to push all this to the back of my mind and let the car do the talking, I set off while stabbing the centre console buttons to make sure everything is in ‘because racecar’ mode

Oh sure, it’s the sportified GTS - one step below the hardcore GT3 and one step above the S - so in theory it should be an ideal road weapon. But if it was me, I’d have a rear-wheel drive 911. Preferably with a manual gearbox, and it would sure as hell be a coupe.

That’s the recipe for the perfect driver’s car and what a GTS should be, not some compromised machine for posers with a load of extra unnecessary weight on board. After all, the cabriolet is 50kg heavier than a four-wheel drive coupe, and nearly 100kg bulkier than a rear-drive tin top.

Attempting to push all this to the back of my mind and let the car do the talking, I set off, stabbing the centre console buttons to make sure everything is in because racecar ‘Sport Plus’ mode. I’ve got to whisk the car and CT editor Alex to a rural location to shoot some aerial footage for our video review (see below), and after that, it’s time to head out on some of my favourite local haunts for a play.

From the off, there are things I don’t like. The steering doesn’t have the level of feedback I’ve been hoping for, plus the throttle pedal seems weirdly artificial and lacking in responsiveness.

When I start to explore what the GTS can do, it starts to bring me back on side. The 3.8-litre flat-six is an utter peach, and makes a glorious noise through the tailpipes. Each time I lift, a thunderous series of crackles explode out of the tailpipes. It’s bordering on the excessive, but I don’t care. As a bonus, the pipework’s even loud enough to drown out Alex, who’s busy - as ever - talking about his MX-5 (sorry chap).

The N/A six is a fairly linear thing, so it never feels shockingly fast; it’s one of those cars that gives you a pleasant surprise every time you glance down at the speedo after a hefty dose of right toe. And it certainly is quick: 0-62mph takes just 4.6 seconds, and on that mythical clear, derestricted autobahn run it’ll top out at 188mph.

I even start to grow fond of the PDK gearbox. Its seven ratios feel incredibly well judged, and shifting between them gives the sort of quick, crisp changes we’re used to with modern dual-clutchers.

When the going gets twistier, I find myself caring less about the slightly numb steering. It’s quick and very accurate, and steering feel isn’t really necessary when you have incredible grip to rely on. And I mean incredible.

I expect more from the GTS at each bend, tentatively proviking it as if poking a bear with a big stick, growing ever more aggressive as I learn it just wants to play rather than bite my head off. No matter what I do, it isn’t fussed. It grips, stays stubbornly flat, and boots me towards the next corner at an alarming rate at every opportunity. The balance is extraordinary; what Porsche’s engineers have been able to do with that engine positioned ardently in the ‘wrong’ place boggles the mind.

With the sun going down, the green scenery of my beloved home county whipping past the open cabin and angry flat-six noise filling the air, I’m getting used to the drop-top 911 life. Perhaps hacking the roof off one of the sportiest 991s isn’t such a bad idea at all.

As I prepare to hand the keys back and wave goodbye to this muscular, £104,385 brute - which I must say, looks pretty damn handsome with those centre-locking black wheels - I’m weighing the car up in my mind.

I’d love to be the voice of dissent, but I find myself agreeing with Alex’s assessment that it’s just too capable. Seems like a daft criticism, but the GTS 4 does make driving a little too easy, stunting the drama of being behind the wheel.

However, as I gently push the door shut and walk away from the Porsche, I can’t deny that I’ve had a damn good time driving it, despite the face it’s the polar opposite of my ideal 911. Few sports cars are as well-rounded, as capable and fastidiously engineered. Or quite so wickedly noisy.

In a few week’s time I’ll get a quick drive in a PDK-equipped GTS 4 Targa and feel exactly the same. Why? Because even the ‘wrong’ 911 is still a very special thing to drive.