Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT - 468bhp Hemi V8 ventures into the Outback

Sensible buyers here would obviously choose the 3.0 CRD diesel. The torquey V6 offers a healthy 247bhp and won’t give you a nasty shock at the filling station. It also costs two-thirds of the price.

The Hemi is a different matter. Despite an ‘efficient’ eight-speed transmission, Eco Mode and Fuel Saver Technology, Jeep’s optimistic claim of 20.9mpg combined is almost laughable. In Australia, I’m forever checking the distance to the next petrol station to take on more fuel, despite a 92-litre tank. Thankfully, unleaded is less than 90p a litre here.

You’ve got to love that old-school feel of driving a naturally aspirated dinosaur to enjoy the SRT. But even though it will rumble to 60mph in five seconds and looks more macho than a bush farmer’s forearm, who in their right mind is going to pay £66,865 for the pleasure?

Australians, of course, have a deep-rooted passion for V8s, even though the Antipodean car industry is virtually dead; a flood of cheap Far Eastern imports means the roads are now clogged with SUVs from Kia, Toyota and Nissan instead.

So does a beast like the SRT bring back nostalgic memories for Aussie drivers? Not a bit of it. Stopping at Green Head to watch sea lions resting on the rocks, I speak to a couple of silver nomads – retirees who spend months on the road towing a caravan across the Outback.

Brad and Marge are from Adelaide and drive a Hyundai Santa Fe. He’s quick to point out that the Jeep’s 20in low-profile tyres would be useless on rocky terrain. Oh, and I need more spotlights with my bi-xenon headlights. The final insult: “Where’s your roo bar, mate?”

The road to the Ningaloo Reef is a long one and there’s not much fun to be had driving the vast distances between highway watering holes, instant coffee and a tiresome combination of deep fried everything. The maximum speed limit is a lowly 110km/h (68mph), which I discover the hard way after encountering a police patrol near Geraldton.

It’s a shame, because the SRT must be one of the only SUVs fitted with a launch control system. Hit the button, hold down the brake and apply full throttle. It may be gimmicky, but feeling the shove from a 6.4-litre block never felt so good, or so naughty. Otherwise, even the paddle shifters seem pointless on these never-ending roads.

But where the Hemi really scores is serving up the grunt to get past Australia’s road trains. The trucks are well over 100ft long and, combined with heat haze on the asphalt, any overtaking manoeuvre is interesting. Afterwards, you can measure your sprint on an 8.4in touchscreen that displays g-force and quarter-mile times.

If I could find a few decent corners within 100 miles of each other, I might even enjoy the SRT’s Selec-Trac system, which adjusts torque, engine mapping and suspension settings, including an active damping system that closes the dampers’ valves to firm up the ride.

Everyone drives on cruise control in Australia; it’s the only way to avoid flooring an SUV like the SRT and taking a big fine. The North West Coastal Highway between Kalbarri and Carnarvon is especially bleak, mile after mile of nothingness, except the constant risk of road kill.

Thankfully, Jeep has lavished plenty of premiumness on the interior. The diesel versions are well equipped ,but the SRT is plush, with cooled leather seats and an 825W Harman/Kardon sound system with 19 speakers to keep me entertained. The carbonfibre dashboard isn’t quite up to Range Rover Sport standard but feels contemporary and stylish – two words not normally associated with Jeeps of old. The boot is huge, too, although I’m old enough not to need those piercing warning bleeps on the one-touch boot close.