I remember once asking a rather haughty woman who had parked her giant 4x4 across two parking spaces, thus denying me the use of one of them, why she needed such an enormous car. She looked at me with an expression of amazement, as if the answer was blindingly obvious, then replied with due indignation: "I've got a baby!"
"What?" I asked. "That big?"
I won't detail what she said in response, but this was a good few years back. Even then, driving a 4x4 was a provocative statement, at least in cramped city environments, where most of them were driven. These days, however, it seems more like an act of nostalgic denial.
Not because of the effect on the global climate - if the icecaps are melting, why is it so cold in my loft? - but as a result of the economic climate. The sheer size and presence of a 4x4 suggests expansive optimism, an open road of opportunity - and screw anyone who gets in your way.
That may make a certain kind of selfish sense when there's a lot of money around, but it looks monstrously out of place in the midst of a recession. Then it begins to look like some hopeless, oversized beast left over from a previous geological age.
And yet, as I look out of the window, there are seven cars in my street, and three of them are 4x4s. There's also one hatchback, a saloon, a people carrier and a Nissan Qashqai +2, which looks like a 4x4 but isn't.
The Qashqai +2 is certainly not an off-road vehicle. There are no roo bars or any of that nonsense. But it does have bigger wheels, elevated seating, and conforms to the general shape of a 4x4, the shape that suggests you're crossing the African savannah by way of the local farmers' market.
In fact, the Qashqai +2 is smaller than most 4x4s and, being diesel, reasonably fuel-efficient, too (though its CO2 emissions are not impressive), and therefore in theory it's a lot less offensive to, well, Guardian readers. But sitting high up in some pinched urban setting, it doesn't seem like that. It still makes you feel as if drivers in more sensibly proportioned cars are giving you looks that suggest everything that is going wrong in their life - not just the fact that they are stuck in traffic - is your fault.
And it's not as if you can wind down the window and shout, "It's OK - it's a Qashqai +2" because how would you pronounce it? I have enough trouble spelling the word. In my head, I hear "Cash Cow" spoken in a Northern Irish accent. And try telling some irate vegan in an electric bubble car not to worry because you're driving a Cash Cow Plus Two, and see how well that goes down.
That said, the Qashqai +2 is really just two optional kids' seats in the back that easily fold away to provide boot space. It's more like a glorified hatchback that offers great visibility and, for those with larger families, handy flexibility. The +2 is robust without being uncomfortable, it's not sluggish on the open road, and there's a parking camera that helps you avoid crushing bubble cars.
Still, as cash cows go, it doesn't add up to a wise investment.
Nissan Qashqai +2 2dci
Price £21,499 (with sat nav)
Top speed 118mph
Acceleration 0-62 in 10.9 seconds
Average consumption 42.2mpg
CO2 emmission 177mpg/km
Eco rating 6.5/10
At the wheel Ulrika Johnson
Bound for Richmond Park
In a word Credit-crunched