Do you believe?

YouGov surveys suggest three-quarters of British people adjudge that alien life exists somewhere in the universe, while a whole third think those extraterrestrials have visited Earth at least once. Seven per cent of our population say they have seen a UFO. But I'd happily wager those figures swell at least a little in this hilly, happy valley in West Yorkshire. The market town of Todmorden is the unofficial UFO capital of the UK - think Area 51 with less Nevada desert and more craft shops.

It's the perfect place to introduce Maserati's latest land-borne craft to British roads. The MCPura represents a nip, tuck and light rebrand for the wondrous MC20 supercar after five years on sale. To the eyes of dedicated car folk, little has changed - reprofiled bumpers and new wheel and paint options summarise its visual makeover - but this car will remain a UFO (unusually fabulous object) to many onlookers. Not least with its dihedral doors and the hugely theatrical folding roof of this Cielo cabrio, it makes even its everyday manoeuvres resemble the extraordinary.

Its dynamic elements are unchanged, a carbon tub at its core and a 621bhp twin-turbocharged 3.0-litre V6 perched beneath its pert, Trident-stamped deck. It drives the rear wheels only through a snappy eight-speed dual-clutch transmission. The MCPura feels distinctly old-school for its lack of hybridisation and there's naturally an awful lot to like about that - particularly on roads as stirring as these.

Todmorden (pronounced Tod-muh-dun) sits at the confluence of three Pennine valleys, and while it doesn't inhabit the more famed driving meccas of the Yorkshire Dales or North York Moors, the Calderdale region it dwells in has a charm all of its own. Hills dominate the horizon in every direction, punching well above their official elevation figures with sweeping consistency and rich textures. Bleating sheep and topsy-turvy dry stone walls etch detail into the picture while wind turbines pepper many of the region's peaks to twist a useful positive from its often inclement weather.

Colin Lyall has owned a second-hand bookshop in Tod, as the locals call it, for 25 years. "Tod is open, welcoming and accepting," he tells me. "It's always been alternative - a nest of counterculture where people come to escape the elements of a more mundane society." Its philosophy clearly embraces a wide spectrum of views about what may occupy the skies above us.

Tod's most famous tale dates back to November 1980 and the apparent abduction of police officer Alan Godfrey as he performed an early morning search for some missing cows. There are copious books and resources that dig gleefully into the finer details (the BBC's Uncanny podcast explores the story with particular eloquence) but Godfrey claims to have seen a large, lit diamond in the sky - 20ft wide and 14ft tall, stationary save for an anticlockwise rotation on its lower section - before losing 25 minutes of his morning and finding himself 100ft farther down the A646, with no recollection of what had occurred in the interim.

Rational explanations abound, but Godfrey has steadfastly stuck to his story for nearly 50 years. And his is far from the only ethereal event on these roads. Reports of silver balls, beams of light and phantom Zeppelins roaming the sky date back to the early 1900s, when the pragmatic suggestion of military aircraft manoeuvres can't quickly shrug off the paranormal twist on events.

"Alan's experience is the big story, the one that centres it," says Colin as he divulges Calderdale's reputation for "high-strangeness events". Ghosts, witches and vampires also star in local legends. It's all up for discussion at his monthly Todmorden UFO Meet, open to all in the Golden Lion pub since 2017. It's well known among the UFO community and attendees have travelled from all over the world to tell their story. So does Colin have an experience of his own? "In Manchester, ironically! I had to go out of town to have mine," he says, laughing. "I saw a silver ball move across the sky very slowly. And I thought: 'Well, what is that?' There was no propulsion system with it. At the altitude that I could see it, it must have been pretty big."

Back in the MCPura, it feels like I'm in danger of triggering my own disturbance, because the car erupts with a histrionic blare each time I push its stark blue starter button. My momentum against the Millstone Grit buildings of Tod town centre feels rather brazen and its open roof alerts me to plenty of "bloomin' hecks" (and other utterances) as I potter around while photographer Sim takes some pictures.

In moments like these, I improbably wish for the hybridisation of its closest supercar rivals - or the fully electric MC20 Folgore, which Maserati promised at launch but cancelled, citing lack of demand. We come in peace, after all, and a mite more subtlety would be welcome. So I'm grateful when the chance arises to whisk Sim back into the Maserati and continue our clockwise loop towards the exact spot where PC Godfrey had his close encounter.

When we reach it there's no plaque, and with the sun shining and turbine blades spinning it's difficult to imagine a domineering craft hovering ahead to halt our progress. So I instead lean into the fast, gentle curves of the A646 to dig deeper into the MCPura's potential. On warm, dry Tarmac, it exhibits little of the savagery I've experienced in wetter conditions in its MC20 forebear. There's grip to spare and I'm quickly notching through the drive modes to sharpen its focus.

The damping is supreme across undulating Tarmac and you can quickly shrug off the more languid vertical movements of GT mode to indulge in the tighter-fisted feel of Sport or Race. This also sharpens the shifts of its already impressive dual-clutch 'box, and with the car's prodigious performance inevitably tricky to wring out on public roads, you instead play tunes on its Nettuno V6 by flick-flacking up and down the gears, feeling the car transform from mild to wild with a couple of choice downchanges.

Consecutive right turns at Cliviger onto The Long Causeway serve up tighter corners and more breathtaking dips and crests for enjoying Maserati's slightly ragged interpretation of the modern supercar experience. The MCPura's best work happens below its limits and there's great satisfaction in achieving a smooth, consistent flow, feeling its mid-engined balance and subtly rearward weight bias inform its cornering attitude rather than govern it. I'd have far busier hands and feet if the sun wasn't so golden, mind. And I don't once gel with its soft, unprogressive brake pedal, which clearly wishes to be stamped hard to the bulkhead on a racetrack rather than carefully modulated on a twisting B-road.

It's not the only imperfection, and while you can sense the influence its engineers took from rival supercars, the MCPura is unashamedly its own, unique thing. As you might well hope at a whisker under £300,000 as tested, with its generously ladled options. Yet it looks twice its asking price with the sun dancing across its multi-layered Fuoriserie paint and the flying buttresses on the Cielo's rear deck more than justifying its sacrifice of a glass cover above the V6.

This is a design more emboldened in drop-top form and I doubt its coupé sibling would have been any more thrilling across the moors. Its handful of niggles are much easier to tolerate with the sun beaming down and the chuffs, whistles and bass of its boosted V6 so easily populating the cabin.

We reach Hebden Bridge - a place brimming with its own UFO sightings - before turning right at Mytholmroyd to tackle Cragg Vale Incline, the longest continuous road ascent in England. Its 968ft rise across 5.5 miles earned it a place in the Grand Départ of the 2014 Tour de France. It's naturally a mite easier with 538lb ft of Italian muscle to call on and the MCPura makes light work of our climb towards Blackstone Edge and the border with Greater Manchester.

Darkness is gradually draping itself across the scenery and an immediate chill prickles our arms as stars begin to pepper the sky and bright lights beam ominously across the valley. "Must be tractors," we both mutter hopefully to one another. Believer or sceptic, it's hard not to glance through the Cielo's targa top with intrigue: the breadth of phenomena across these sprawling moors is enough to carve a glimmer of possibility in even the most closed minds. And should extraterrestrial life not extend a friendly hand to shake, we have the ideal getaway car.

Drive it yourself

Our 'Tod Triangle' takes in 32 miles and 1hr 10min of glorious Pennines scenery, delays caused by unplanned abductions or time slips notwithstanding. Tally your visit with the third Tuesday of the month to attend the Todmorden UFO Meet at the Golden Lion — friendly sceptics very much welcome.

Plentiful pubs or cafes can be tapped in as waypoints, but the towns of Todmorden, Mereclough, Hebden Bridge and Littleborough are your key anchors to replicate our route. Bridestones Moor and Stoodley Pike allow you to park up for a dramatic hike among the scenery (and a closer peek to the skies) safe in the knowledge that you can soothe any aches and pains afterwards with the hot and cold contrast sauna at New Delight Inn (iglusauna.co.uk).

Short, worthwhile detours include Mankinholes, a ruggedly rural spot with numerous otherworldly occurrences to its name (though narrow lanes to negotiate), the towering structure of Baitings Reservoir dam and the unlikely inland beach of Hollingworth Lake, complete with fish 'n' chip shops, an ice cream parlour and an amusement arcade.