It's a sunny weekend and I’m awake early, coffee in hand and up for an adventure. But while my normal go-to might be to jump in the sports car and blitz down some B-roads, I’ve got another idea in mind: let’s off-road.

I'm behind the wheel of a Dacia Duster. It has a five-speed manual gearbox, a 128bhp mild-hybrid powertrain and, most importantly for my Sunday jaunt, four-wheel drive.

Autocar photographer and former fellow south coast-dweller Jack Harrison pointed me in the direction of Corfe Castle in Dorset, which is where we now find ourselves.

Just half an hour from Poole, the landscape here is awash with green rolling hills as far as the eye can see. Heading down a narrow B-road, I turn onto a short gravel track, at the end of which I’m met with a large metal gate adorned with a sign that says I must shut it or the cows will escape.

It feels odd to be here with a car, but despite the odd walker staring quizzically at me, this is a perfectly legal byway I can carefully drive along.

There’s even a sign clearly saying: ‘Green Lane Association, byway open to all traffic.’ So I open the gate, drive through and close it behind me. We’re in. 

Ahead lies our first test: a slight hill strewn with small craters and a herd of cows. I twist the mode selector to Lock (to lock the central differential into 4x4 mode) and off we go. And you know what? This is a lot easier than I was expecting.

Okay, it’s hardly the Moab desert, but the amount of grip I’m finding with the Duster is impressive. Its light steering, which I’m already a fan of on the road, allows for much-needed quick corrections – especially when I go into a pothole that I didn’t know was there and which throws me in the direction of what looks like the chief cow.

At least the brakes are also working well. It then dawns on me that the Duster has parking cameras that work up to 12mph, and I could have used those for pothole spotting. 

Next up: some grass. I know, perilous. But it’s steep, and I can really see myself getting stuck halfway up. But once again I’ve underestimated the Duster. I know this isn’t the hardest piece of off-roading to tackle, yet the ease with which the Duster seems to dispatch Dorset’s grassy inclines is quite exceptional.

I breeze up and pull over at the top, feeling very kingly as I survey Corfe Castle below. As I get back in the car, I receive a funny ‘you shouldn’t be up here’ look from a couple of walkers, but given the heat of the day, perhaps it’s more a look of jealousy as I enjoy the Duster’s air-con-cooled cabin.

Hill descent mode on – just in case – and I reach the bottom of the slope and turn right. Ahead is a trail that is no wider than the Duster and a badly damaged track full of deep crevasse-like cavities.

Luckily, with a breakover angle of 24deg (that’s more than even a Jeep Wrangler has), I avoid scuffing the underside and push on through the next gate as branches begin chattering against the wing mirrors.

The Duster rides through the potholes, though, and while the gravel underwheel is compromising grip, there is still some to be found. Another gate leads to a steep gravel track, strewn with cows and with, concerningly, a rather perilous drop on one side.

While building the courage to continue a problem emerges: there’s no room to get out of the car to open said gate. As if by magic, a cyclist appears, and she very kindly opens the gate.

I thank her but when I go to pull gently away there’s only wheelspin. That’s embarrassing. Try again: wheelspin accompanied by the smell of burning clutch. Then I notice the Duster has defaulted back to its normal driving mode and unlocked the central diff after I switched it off momentarily before the cyclist showed up.

I’m a dummy. I reset it to Lock and, as if by some more magic, I’m able to chug up the hill, eyes fixed ahead and very much not on the cliff edge to the left. I reach the top and, again, stop to admire another beautiful view.

This really is a great way to spend a sunny weekend. On my way back down I’m feeling really quite triumphant, but then my ego takes a punch to the throat as a ratty 2010-plate Volkswagen Touareg comes bounding up the trail I had ascended so carefully.

I move over so it can pass and the excited pair inside give me a wave as they crash their way up. That was definitely a wave goodbye rather than a wave hello…

After passing my herd of bovine best mates from earlier, I reach the entrance gate and get out to inspect the Duster: no scratches, no marks, no dents. Brilliant.

To think I’ve just spent my afternoon tackling an array of routes – some challenging, some steep – on a beautiful day with gorgeous views, and all while spending less than £15 in fuel (which includes getting here from home and back) in my daily driver that costs as little as £26,000 is, quite frankly, ridiculous.

While those more moneyed than I can afford to drive their Porsche 911s to their local circuit for a track day, rag it around and then drive home, this is my budget version – and I don’t need a new set of tyres afterwards. Next time I’ll just remember to take a picnic.