When I got handed the keys to the Lotus Emira at the firm’s dealership in Bonifacio Global City a few days ago, I could almost feel the weight of automotive history in my hand. After all, this is said to be the last ever Lotus that runs purely on dinosaur juice, with the future of the brand looking distinctively more electric. A trip to Batangas was our chance to enjoy this swan song and see what a thoroughly modern Lotus is like.

Before we dive into this, let’s get all the jokes out of the way first, shall we?

“It’s not broken, it’s British.”

“LOTUS = Lots Of Trouble, Usually Serious.”

“Why do Lotus drivers not greet each other in the afternoon? Because they already met at the repair shop in the morning.”

That last joke also works with Jaguar and Range Rover owners, and as someone who had a few classic British cars over the years (including two V12 XJ-S and a Rover), I’m speaking from experience. But what I can also tell you is that this isn’t the Lotus of old. Some people won’t like that, but most will welcome it.

Hardcore enthusiasts with a mindset from days gone by might want their sports cars to “have character,” “be temperamental,” or look like they were assembled by a bunch of a six-year-olds in a shed. Those individuals can call RWB and have a Porsche ruined in exchange for an extortionate amount of money. This is 2025. If you spend almost P12 million on a car, you are fully entitled to have certain expectations.

Long story short: Buy an Emira and your expectations are more than likely going to be met. If you get the V6, the powerplant is from Toyota, and if you opt for the AMG First Edition variant—which was the one we had for a few days—you get a 360hp version of the 2.0-liter Mercedes turbo that makes the AMG A45 such a mad box of frogs. Quality therefore shouldn’t be an issue in the engine department.

The same goes for the cabin and any other bits we were able to check. Everything seemed solid with appropriate premium feel; there’s a ton of interior space even for someone my size; and the panel gaps are so tight they could get a German engineer inappropriately excited.

When (usually male) car writers review a sports car, they will often tell you how brilliantly this handles and try to sound like Sebastian Vettel’s long-lost brother while they do it. It’s a sort of semi-subconscious display of vehicular vainglory constructed from testosterone-filled sentences and paragraphs that regularly stretch the limits of believability.

The cold, hard truth here is that exploring the physical limits of this machine on public roads in the Philippines (or most other countries) simply isn’t feasible—at least not if you want to stay on the right side of the law.

If I had driven the Emira in Germany or on the Isle of Man—both places that celebrate speed, allow cars like this to legally get out of second gear, and where I spend a lot of time—I may have tried to sound equally clever. Its top speed of 270km/h is considered respectable in my home country, and certainly not something I’d be scared of or inexperienced in trying out.

Equally, its size and agility seem perfectly suited for the speed-limit-free Isle of Man Mountain Road, where my last Lotus-powered white-knuckle ride was in a friend’s Esprit. But I didn’t. We drove it here, where 100 is the number to live and drive by.

That doesn’t mean you can’t have fun with it on our shores, and you don’t even need a dedicated track day to do so (although it feels like that’s where it would really be most at home). For us, an overnight trip to Batangas was far enough. Having packed the traditional sports-car-on-a-road-trip luggage set of a toothbrush and a credit card, we hit the road.

The Emira is simple to operate, and only has three driving modes: Tour, Sport, and Track. In Tour, it’s a surprisingly quiet and comfortable GT car that’s very relaxing to drive, and has enough ground clearance to avoid panic attacks at the sight of speed bumps.

The fun really starts when you flick it into Sport mode and get the revs above 4,000rpm. That awakens the turbo from its slumber, and will have your wife teach you new Tagalog swear words in no time. If you want to put your marital bliss into even more danger, then activate Track mode and put the hammer down. Even at legal speeds, overtaking trucks and slower cars on provincial roads suddenly becomes a whole lot more exciting.

One little detail here: There is no panic handle on the passenger side, a fact my better half noticed when she tried to hold on to something—anything—while the Lotus showed us what it could do when we took the muzzle off and unclip the leash. Once you get the revs up, it also sounds great, and you quickly forget that it’s a four-cylinder doing all the heavy lifting.

Then there’s the way this thing looks. You will attract stares with it, and Lotus has really done an amazing job in giving this machine a proper supercar appearance with plenty of truly gorgeous lines. Get used to kids taking pictures and parking attendants giving you the VIP treatment. It’s smiles and excitement all around. Smiles on your face, excitement on the faces of people who see it. And it does all this at a third of the price of a Ferrari.

Just like in Europe, Lotus here feels like a sports car for people who never considered owning a sports car. Either because of the initial purchase price or due to concerns for ongoing maintenance costs, both of which are lower with the Emira than with any Prancing Horse or Raging Bull. Still not cheap (largely thanks to the crazy taxes here), but a lot more attainable at least.

I can see why Lotus has already shifted a fair number of them on the local market (more units than Ferrari has sold in total last year, apparently), and I totally understand why. The Emira isn’t just a budget-friendly alternative to cars from Maranello, Zuffenhausen or Sant’Agata Bolognese. It’s a legitimate contender in its own right, and a bloody good one at that.