We walk away from our first GTA IV hands-on encounter with a hundred stories to tell. The two hours we spent locked away with the game at Rockstar's London HQ was abundant with hilarious, outrageous, explosive and downright unbelievable moments. Highlights included, but were definitely not limited to: sending Niko crashing through the windscreen of a Banshee; trying to lose a six-star wanted level while driving in reverse; and cruising for hookers in Middle Park at night. It's the personal experiences that have always made Grand Theft Auto so great and, consequently, so insanely popular.

The purpose of our hands-on session was to play a few missions, get a feel for the controls and soak up the vibe around Liberty City. We mostly soaked up the vibe. Eager vibe sponges. Between the immense bedrock of detail, the hard-coded chaos and the ebb and flow of everyday metropolis bustle, Rockstar's urban jungle is intoxicating. We were powerless to resist the tempting lure of anarchic opportunity. Too curious to just walk by. We shot civilians. We hauled drivers from their cars. We ran over pedestrians. We did all the anti-social endeavours that any first-time tourist let loose in Liberty City would do.

And GTA quickly worked its time-eating, hypnotic magic. It sucked us in. Headfirst. We start by stealing a car - a plain old Vincent sedan - and before we know it we've spent 20 minutes on an intensive carjacking spree. But it's so much fun. Warmly familiar, yet exhilaratingly fresh at the same time. When the downtime is this enjoyable, who needs missions?

We hammer the Vincent around for a bit. The scenery blurs as we hit a respectable speed. We try the handbrake and discover that it's not quite as amiable as we were expecting. The car spins out of control and slams into a wall. Niko's body shifts and jerks in the seat against the force of the impact. The handbrake feels like it'll take some taming. The windshield is smashed and the front right-side wing is knackered - the bodywork is crumpled and the wheel has buckled violently. The handling is shafted - prior to the wall collision it was lively and responsive, now it feels sluggish and the damaged tyre drags the car off-centre.

Abandoning the Vincent, we search out other vehicles. We slip behind the wheel of a Rancher pick-up, then a backfiring and completely wrecked out Blista Compact, then a meaty-sounding Vigero muscle car, then a sporty metallic blue Banshee with a distinctive black stripe on its bonnet. We're spoilt for choice. All the cars we test-drive handle with varying degrees of satisfaction. The Vigero is a feisty mover, but our absolute bestest beast would have to be our old pal, the fast-as-buck Banshee. It's a dream to drive and now comes with added exhaust-flame popping.