Outside, it’s typically overcast but with a special menace in the air. Five classic BMWs of varying sentimental and financial worth are lined up like prized debutants at a ball: Z8, 2002tii, E36 M3 Cab, 840i and 507. Perhaps it’s the foreboding sky that convinces fellow journalists to skilfully sidestep the priceless 507 (900 000 Euros at last count), granting me the first dance.

Tentatively I open the door. It swings without the complication of a modern hinge and thuds shut again with practised precision. With the fabric hood on roof duty, it feels slightly cramped, but only because of the proximity of the upright screen and the selfish side glass. Slim seats and a sparsely populated cabin compensate. I’m confronted by an anaemic white rim and an all-black metal dash, punctuated by six ivory-hued knobs that long ago ceased to advertise their job description. I fiddle around under the seat for a lever, and slide it forward. Everything’s in super nick, and even though I realise BMW has more precious 507s squirreled away and that this one is driven regularly, I wind down the windows and nudge the indicator’s spindly stalk as gently as if I was playing baseball with a porcelain bat.

A prod on the accelerator to lift the revs in stall prevention and I ease off the light clutch and point the 507 into Munich traffic. The V8 engine’s throb – a heady mix of Harley Davidson at idle and Wagner on cam – pulses through the tight cabin. I ask myself, ‘Has there ever been a better mid-range soundtrack on Munich's streets?’ Second slots home easily and the torque is instantly apparent. Finding third is trickier as the gate on the four-speeder is far wider than the six-speed ’boxes we’re used to today. Typically old school brakes require more heft than deft. Two corners in, and the indicator’s fused out. Somehow sticking your arm out the window in a 507 just looks less daft. As it turns out, taking gaps is easy, as 335s make way in quiet, patient reverence.

Out on the autobahn, the 507 just beats me in the race to settle down. Nervous early jitters and heavier low speed manoeuvring aside, it’s actually as easy to drive as a modern BM and worries over crashing this rare treasure ease away as the lush German countryside flashes by. With it comes a great sense of occasion, heightened by the upright screen. I watch the clouds caress Albrecht Goertz’s beautifully sculpted bonnet and rack my brain trying to think in which current car you can even see the bonnet. I’m sitting frighteningly close to the dashboard and without the reassurance of seat belts. Later on, as a passenger, I make frequent use of the forward grab handle, thinking, ‘this should be sufficient in an emergency. Not’. Clearly 1950s society did not have the same fixation on death and little stars. The 507 is absolutely motoring in a different age.