As his American associates would say, David Richards is a sucker for punishment. On a sunny mid-March Monday at Aston Martin's swanky headquarters in England the 54-year-old Prodrive founder, former accountant and world rally champion co-driver, current World Rally Championship commercial rights holder and - from next season - Formula 1 team principal, realised his long-held dream to control a full-scale car manufacturer.

And not just any car maker. Under a deal that values the luxury sports car maker at $ 959m, cash-strapped owner Ford sold all bar an 8.5 per cent stake to a consortium led by Richards and comprising John Sinders, an American banker with substantial interests in the Gulf and who was already a backer of Aston's racing team, plus a group of Kuwaiti investors.

There are many who still wonder whether Ford has taken leave of its senses. The beleaguered US giant, which lost a record $ 12.7bn last year and was overtaken by Toyota as world's second biggest car maker, has been the whitest of white knights to Aston Martin since taking it over in 1994.

It has poured in hundreds of millions in investment and given Ulrich Bez, the former Porsche engineering chief, free rein to transform the company from a struggling luxury sports car maker with a 90-year history of almost endless financial crises, into one of the world's most iconic brands. Since the sale proceeds are, by Ford standards, a drop in a direly leaky bucket, why not hang on to it for its 'halo' effect, particularly now that for the first time in history it appears capable of making sustained profits ($ 74m last year)?

For a start, Aston Martin no longer fits easily within the Ford empire. In the eyes of Dearborn's bean counters and apparatchiks it is a maverick, conforming to few if any of Ford's strict business procedures and increasingly resented now that it is making money. Bez told evo recently that he and chairman Bill Ford agreed well over a year ago, long before the sale announcement, that the companies should go their separate ways.

Ford also really does want to lay its hands on all the money it can get, as it seeks to restructure its mainstream operations better to face the circling Asian automotive tigers. It has already flogged off Hertz, the car rental business, for nearly $ 6bn and new president Alan Mulally says he is not averse to selling one or more of its other brands, which include Volvo, Land Rover and Jaguar.

By selling Aston, Ford is also insulating itself against the financial problem that has laid low so many specialist car companies, Rolls-Royce, Bentley and Lotus included: the need to maintain the large investments required for new model programmes when economies slump and times get tough - as, even for Aston, they most certainly will.

That is why some observers wonder whether Richards might at last be biting off more than he can chew. History is littered with the wreckage of specialist car companies whose investors failed to grasp the sheer scale of the funds that car companies, even ones as relatively small as Aston, making 5000 cars a year, can so routinely swallow.

And it is not only about money. Prodrive is no cornershop, with 1000 employees and customers across the automotive spectrum. Most businessmen would quail at the challenge of creating a brand new team to tackle F1. The WRC, facing an uphill task to keep media, sponsors and manufacturers on side, is its own time and money pit. Richards insists that he is a good time manager and has appropriate management structures in place for all the businesses. But by any measure it looks to be an almighty burden to bear.

On the upside, Bez and Richards have long been comfortable working together - Prodrive builds Aston's DBR9 and DBRS9 GT race cars - so to all outward appearances it's potentially a marriage made in heaven. And it will begin with a Ford dowry. Engines and other vital components will continue to flow from Ford at favourable terms.

So what's proposed to be done with it? Well, don't assume Richards' planned F1 team will be named Aston Martin, for starters. The two businesses are wildly different, with each having the potential to become a large financial drain if things go wrong.

The focus will be on evolving the business and building on the model range. The sexiest four-door car on the planet, the Rapide, is perhaps no more than two years away. More high-performance versions of all AM's cars, including the 'N24' Vantage customer racer, are just around the corner. There is no fundamental reason why Aston should not become a maker of 9000 cars a year - a level already being achieved this year by Bentley, thanks in part to VW ownership, which has seen a shift in reliability and performance.

POWER, BEAUTY, SOUL reads the information screen amidst the leather-trimmed dash. Turn the key and the glass starter button glows invitingly. A stab of the accelerator pedal and the 4.3-litre V8 catches with a fervent whumph. It's a pleasurable noise with undertones of a traditional V8 burble overlaid with a higher-pitched, more cultured shriek.

Inspired by the Gulf-funded buy out of Aston Martin, and the fact that we're a regional version of a British magazine, myself and chief test driver Karim Al-Azhari have just been handed the keys to the V8 Vantage and DB9, the two cars credited with the UK car manufacturer's recent resurgence and both of which have long order books despite the cranking up of output to over 5000 a year.

We only have two days with the cars, including photography, so we decide to concentrate a week's testing into a day and a half. It's not nearly enough, but Jurgen is already moaning about the amount of time he's got to capture these stunning looking automobiles on film.
We toss a coin to decide who gets to drive what first. As you might have already guessed, I landed the 911-baiting AMV8. It looks incredible: muscular, squat and finished in an ostentatious deep red. Although almost identical in size to a 997, it looks much lower and wider. No one passes it without taking a second or third glance. I swing the DB9-style swan-wing door open and up, climb in and get comfortable in the low seating position, the bonnet barely visible over the long, contrast-stitched dash.

The Vantage feels hard and keen even before its wheels have turned. The stubby gearlever stirs a six-speed gearbox. The shift feels quite mechanical, but slightly obstructive until it warms. Nothing too serious, but there's no mistaking this is a car that needs input to be driven. Despite its aesthetic familiarity, the character of this vehicle is distinctly more sporting than the DB9.

Karim and I hit the road and head for the Oman border. Crack open the throttle of the V8 and initially the noise dies away, but at just under 4000rpm, the exhaust's trick valve opens and all hell breaks loose. The V8 finds its voice and then screams its potential right until the rev-limiter strangles the aggressive engine at 7500rpm. It's quite a thin, hard noise for a V8, but its sheer volume and the way the revs seem to build with no inertia to fight is incredibly exciting.

On a rather more practical note, it was at this point that my first gripe with the AMV8 surfaced. Rather than the traditional red line indicating the rev limit, Aston have opted for a small, round computerised dial amidst the pilot-like speedometer and rev counter. This might be fine in gloomy, overcast England, but when the glare of the Dubai sun is directly above your head, it's nigh on impossible to see, leaving me to guess that optimum gear changes need to be taken at 7000rpm. Having said that, the V8 Vantage has a strong delivery from as little as 2000rpm; fourth gear the best suited for the highways we were on and allowing me to go from 90 to 190kmh without touching the gear shifter.

The ride is taut, surprisingly so. The aluminum structure transmits quite a lot of road noise and at anything above 150kmh, the wind noise is horrific, deafeningly so. I put the din down to the fact that there is a significant human element to the assembly process, but somehow I expected it to be a little more serene. A quick stop off for fuel and Karim is also complaining of the same problem in the DB9. To be honest, so engrossed was I in the Breitling watch-cum-fighter plane interior, I had barely remembered he was behind me. As well as wind noise, he is also complaining of a bad judder in the steering column every time he goes over a bump or ridge in the road.

As Karim, already two service station hot dogs better off, and I compared our first impressions on both cars, it became apparent that these grievances weren't the only ones. Details grated. Some of the interior finishing was lackluster, the electronic wing mirrors awkwardly clunked rather than smoothed into and place and, despite the fact that both cars had apparently been tested in the Middle East, the air-con was well below par. And we've not even reached summer yet. You might think I'm nitpicking, but these sorts of details are wholly unacceptable in a car of this price and status level. But that's British cars for you isn't it?From the moment you clap eyes on the DB9, it provides you with an unrivalled sense of well being. This car is simply stunning

Back in the sculptured sports seats of AMV8, I put my bemoaning to one side and inhale the aroma of expensive leather. I suspect that the mountains of Hatta will suit the tightly controlled ride of the V8 Vantage perfectly. Driving off the highway, the surface deteriorates and gentle curves give way to blind esses and fast, open corners. The road is empty save for me in the AMV8 and Karim in the steel blue DB9. The Aston's revvy engine is ripping the air to shreds. The steering is heavy, but not artificially so, and although the steering wheel occasionally shimmies in your hands as the wheels run over sharp bumps, there's none of the kickback that Karim had complained of in the DB9. You get a great sense of the road and can feel the Bridgestones biting. It's almost impossible to imagine running out of front-end grip. You turn, and it dives for your target; ask for more steering mid-corner and the 235/40 ZR19s bite again. Even when pushing the car through tight corners, it remains neutral and understeer isn't really an issue. It will push-on gently if you really start to test your bravery, but for the most part the Vantage feels stubbornly planted.

You might expect this massive front grip to unsettle the rear, but again the V8 Vantage feels beautifully composed - it is a well-balanced and nimble sports car, not just a GT. Despite my earlier grumbles, this car is growing on me; it feels like a cohesive and well-engineered package. The nicely judged steering weight is backed up by a firm brake pedal and convincing stopping power. The ride is firm, perhaps not as taut as a 911, and the steering control is exemplary. The screaming V8 has the substance to back up the noise right up until 200kmh; after which not much happens and the car is left begging for power, seemingly taking an age to reach its top speed of 280kmh.

As my time in the baby Aston Martin draws to a close, I am left with the feeling that the Vantage is as good as I'd hoped. The car has a distinct corkscrewing motion through corners. The weight rocks between front and rear axles, but I like the physical nature of the experience. Arguably, with such a firm ride you'd expect slightly less body roll, but after spending an afternoon pounding roads littered with surface changes, nasty cambers and tricky corners, the V8 Vantage has refused to wilt.

Granted this is not a 911; it doesn't have the same integrity, pace or delivery. The V8 Vantage is a lot more of a conventional car - it doesn't present the same sort of challenge, and for that matter rewards, as a 911. For the money you'll own better cars, certainly more powerful, faster ones, yet despite the niggles, driving this AMV8 makes you feel privileged. But would I feel quite so honoured once I had jumped in its older, more expensive brother...

From the moment you clap your eyes on the DB9, it provides you with an unrivalled sense of well being. This car is simply stunning, even more so when you see it in the flesh rather than from the rear view mirror of the AMV8 as I had been all day. Those fluid curves are mesmerising. Walk around the back and note the three-inch exhaust pipes, which correspond to its quieter song at idle than the V8 Vantage, but once under way they deliver a glorious snarl. Once you press the flush-fit door handle, pull gently on the thin, protruding finger and swing open the door, you feel yourself falling for the DB9.

Our test car has been finished in ivory leather and it makes climbing into the cockpit a real event. It's a very special place to be (cue the needle violently scratching your prized vinyl). Yep you guessed it, those ugly annoyances have begun rearing their ugly heads again and I haven't even fired the up 6.0-litre V12 engine yet. While the light-coloured leather looks great, the fact that the DB9 hasn't been fitted with a non-reflective windscreen means I can see the interior grinning back at me; as fond as I am of it, I don't want to see it twice.

But more of an irritation is that the paddles shifts which operate the six-speed automatic gearbox are placed clumsily close to the indicator stalk; fine when at a standstill, but annoying when you're vigorously driving mountain roads and looking to shift gears. That's if the car will allow you to shift gears. On countless occasions during our testing of the DB9, and with both the car in 'D' or 'S' mode, I was confronted by a bright red exclamation mark on the information screen followed by a warning message that stated the gearbox had overheated. This in turn disabled the paddles shifts and rendered the 'box in a uselessly high gear. Only a considerable time spent with the engine off brought the gearbox back into full working action. That said, when it was working efficiently, I was impressed with its tight and competent shift, the throttle blipping before every downshift..

On the fast and twisty roads of the Hatta mountains, the DB9 feels deliciously grunty, that big-lunged V12 pulling impeccably from little more than tick-over and displaying a real enthusiasm for revs. But the weight of the steering, not to mention the wheel travel, makes it hard to find a rhythm with the road. The car doesn't tackle the tarmac with the same enthusiasm or turn-in as incisively as the V8 Vantage and it certainly doesn't feel as intuitive.

There is real lack of high-speed poise about this car and tight corners test its ability to find traction even further. With the traction control system engaged you can feel the electronics and V12 indulging in a tussle, while switching the system off is only recommended through clearly sighted corners, for given free-rein the DB9 can get surprisingly hairy surprisingly quickly. While fun, it soon becomes clear that the DB9's preferred style is neat and tidy, not fast and loose. There's a great car locked inside the DB9. On paper it's a winner, but the driving experience on these type of twisty roads simply doesn't reflect this.

Back on the highway, the DB9 is an astonishingly fast and competent GT. Floor it and instantly this gentlemanly vehicle explodes with more sound than you thought possible and a snap to your neck that would bring a smile to the face of your chiropractor. This is a fast car, a supercar even in this situation. What was a melody of sound just became V12 yell. Speed builds quickly, wind noise goes from deafening to inaudible, and the car hits a sweet spot at 145kmh and rushes past 200kmh. At these speeds and beyond, the DB9 remains your friend. It's certainly a lot more confidence-inspiring than the AMV8, there's none of that front-end lightness that I had experienced in its baby brother earlier in the day, and there's a lot more power too.

The DB9 performs best the further up the speedometer you go. Hard use of the brakes does not spoil the fun either, the huge discs providing linear, controllable braking.

There is a price for all this, of course. And the dealer's invoice will invoke questions about what else you can buy for that sort of money. Well, a 997 Turbo and still have change left over for starters. But when asked what car you own, answering 'Porsche', especially in this region, gets a positive nod, saying 'Ferrari' will muster a 'Shu, habibi!', but 'Aston' always gets a surprised 'Really?' And, despite the niggles, that's the reason you buy an Aston Martin¡­ Or should I say, that's the reason you buy Aston Martin.