Hopeless romantic
Alan Judd
Some at least of the 71 vehicles I’ve owned (68 if tractors don’t count) are probably best excused by a weakness for romantic impracticality. It was never inherent impracticality that attracted me but something else about them — rarity, unusual histories or locations, coincidence, the appeal of rescue. Hence the Daimler Conquest Century convertible, the Austin Gypsy fire engine, the Majestic Major mayoral limousine and the clump of stinging nettles in Oxfordshire marketed as a Series One Land-Rover. Recently there have been signs that the condition afflicts me still.
The week began with a tour of the Rolls Royce factory at Goodwood, West Sussex. Nicholas Grimshaw’s design is an inspiration, quiet, clean and airy, with imaginative use of natural light and camouflaged by eight acres of living roof comprised of thousands of sedum plants. The factory produced 1,010 cars last year, with prices starting at around a quarter of a million — rather more than all my 71 added together. The astute and congenial party I was with could probably have bought a brace each without too much hardship, but for me the experience scored pretty highly in the romantic impracticality stakes because it left me yearning more than I’m earning. It’ll doubtless score yet higher when I drive one next month.
But then to go from Goodwood to the other end of the (still) United Kingdom and motor 500 miles through northern Scotland in the new Bentley Brooklands coupé upped the romantic ante even more.
This nimble 2.7 tonne Leviathan was reviewed on its Italian launch (Spectator, 19 April) and re-acquaintance did nothing to dim first impressions. It remains one of the best-looking, best-performing and most satisfying cars to drive on the planet. And since they’re making only 550 its gratifyingly high emissions (465g/km) will do nothing whatever to hasten our planet’s demise. Admittedly, the fact that all but a handful are spoken for makes it rather difficult to buy one, but it still might be worth ringing Crewe if you’ve upwards of £230,000 burning a hole in your pocket.
If you are too late, however, take comfort: there are niggles. As noted at the launch, there should be some way of closing the boot without dirtying your wallet-hand. Also, the throttle-mapping of this iteration of the wonderful 49-year-old 6.75 V8 seems to differ from that in other models. In the Arnage saloon, for example, the same engine gives you the famous Bentley tidal wave of torque from about 1rpm upwards, but the Brooklands — despite 0–60mph in 5 seconds, 184mph, 1750rpm at 70mph — is relatively (sic) gentle up to about 1500rpm when it can suddenly kick down and take you by surprise. This is not to say that power delivery cannot be evenly achieved, but you have to take care. I don’t recall that at the launch, so it could be this particular test car (in which Autocar noted the same feature). Anyway, you can easily avoid it by going into Speed mode or using the gearbox’s manual tiptronic function. Autocar didn’t like its forward-up, back-down configuration, but it felt right to me.
Thirdly, the reclining rear seats are superbly comfortable with ample leg and head room, but ingress and egress is delayed by the all too sedate movement of the front seats. When it’s raining — as occasionally happens in Scotland — passengers get wet waiting to get in or you get wet waiting until ladies in skirts are ready to emerge modestly.
But the car does everything else you want. It proceeds with a rare combination of authority and agility, sure-footed through the Highland bends, steering precise and not too light, suspension firm but wellmannered. One driver, qualified to make the comparison, said he had felt nothing like it since taking the controls of a Hawker Hunter. Lucky man.
And yet, when the urge for romantic impracticality bites, even a limited edition Bentley is not quite enough. What else could explain my telephone conversation during the same week with a 1949 Jowett Javelin in Shetland?
Introduced in 1946 with an 80mph 1486cc flat four, these aerodynamic saloons were highly regarded despite manufacturing problems with the early engines and gearboxes. They won their class at Le Mans and should have secured the future of the idiosyncratic, Bradford-based company, but Lazard Brothers pulled the plug in 1954. Since then the owners’ club, the oldest in Britain, has kept a dedicated band of followers on the road. The car in question has had its engine rebuilt (though a small oil leak needs attention), its burgundy leather seats re-upholstered and its black body professionally resprayed. Asking price is £4,000, carriage paid to Aberdeen. Buying unseen without having driven one counts, I reckon, as romantically impractical; going to Shetland just to see if you like it, even more so. I wish I could say, Reader, I bought it — but I haven’t, yet. Anyone tempted should ring 01595 810398.
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