What with the bombs and everything, we haven’t really learnt much about
Britain’s big Olympic sports day. It’s almost as though the whole thing has
simply gone away.
But don’t worry. Behind the headlines, the organisers are hard at work and
have already made one important decision. These will be a low-carbon,
sustainable, public transport Games with no provision for any car parking
whatsoever at any of the major sites.
Can you believe that? No, really. Can you honestly believe that with all the
things that need to be achieved in the next seven years, the powers that be
have decided that global warming is somehow the most important issue.
“Right. We need to compulsorily purchase half of east London, we need to
bulldoze it, we need to get some stadiums designed, we need to find some
steel that isn’t on its way to Shanghai, we need to build a whole village
for the athletes and we need to ensure nobody explodes. But first things
first, comrades. Are we all agreed that these Games should be car-free?”
Don’t these idiots remember the Millennium Dome? Over the years, many
inquiring minds have speculated on why this billion-pound umbrella failed.
But there’s only one reason, really. Even if you wanted to see the
multi-faith exhibits and learn how a turd was made, you couldn’t get there.
Because there was no car park.
Of course, those in charge of the Olympics will say that the Games give us a
chance to show the world that London is a shining beacon of environmental
responsibility . . . in the same way that London was a shining beacon of
multiculturalism, right up to the moment when a small group of deranged
Muslims started blowing themselves up on Tube trains.
The Olympics are a test designed to quantify and celebrate human physical
achievement. They are not an opportunity for a bunch of stupid, left-wing,
weird-beard failures to make political points.
I make this prediction now. The woolly-pully brigade will be so busy over the
next seven years ensuring that the Games are eco-friendly that they’ll
forget to build a running track. And the health and safety department will
outlaw the swimming pool on the basis that someone might drown.
This will make Britain a laughing stock in the eyes of the whole world, so
consequently we must quickly find something else to crow about. And that
brings me neatly on to the Aston Martin V8 Vantage.
In the past few weeks this new car has been subjected to a torrent of crowing
as various motoring correspondents have vomited eulogies onto the page. But
I’m afraid that I must be the voice of reason here.
First of all, Aston Martin is owned by the Americans and run by a German whose
most recent decision saw engine production being moved from Newport Pagnell
to Cologne. So it’s about as British as Budweiser.
And then there’s the price. At £80,000, the Vantage is £20,000 more than was
originally suggested and, crucially, £20,000 more than the car with which it
was designed to compete: the Porsche 911.
Of course, with a three-year waiting list, the Aston is unlikely to depreciate
much, so that makes the premium more palatable. And that leaves us with the
next problem. A lack of power.
Eventually there will be a faster version called the Vantage Vantage probably,
or the Vantage Squared, but for now, when you change down and pull out to
overtake, the baby Aston accelerates briskly but with none of the savagery
you might have been expecting. It’s fast. But it’s not blistering.
The engine starts out in life as a 4.2 litre Jaguar V8 but is then extensively
reworked to become a 4.3 that churns out 380bhp and 302 torques. This isn’t
enough. It’s less torque than you get from a Mercedes SLK, less bhp and
torque than you get from a Vauxhall Monaro. And more worryingly it’s less
bhp and torque than you’ll get from the next Jaguar XK, which will be
cheaper as well. And just as beautiful.
Annoyingly, with a 4.3 litre V8 allied to a chassis made from air and a body
fashioned from the froth on a cappuccino, the Vantage could have been really
quick, cartoon quick, fast enough to fan a forest fire with its wake. But if
they’d done that, why would anyone have spent about £20,0000 more on a DB9?
It’s not like the Vantage is different in any other way. Apart from the lack
of back seats, the new V8 has exactly the same Volvo sat nav system as the
DB9, exactly the same hard-to-read dash as the DB9 and exactly the same Ford
trim as the DB9.
In other words, like the DB9, the Vantage was built using whatever the Aston
engineers could get their hands on cheaply. As opposed to the 911, which was
built using whatever took the Porsche engineers’ fancy.
I’m sorry if this all sounds negative but I’m being realistic here. And I’m
also being realistic when I tell you that in a straight fight, on any road
or track, the 911 will be faster. Not just because of its superior grunt but
also because it brakes better, steers better and corners more confidently.
But, and this is what makes cars such fun to write about, given the choice of
a Porsche 911 or a V8 Vantage, I wouldn’t hesitate for a moment. I’d buy the
Aston.
While it may not be as nippy or as thrilling as the 911, it has a he-man feel
on the road that I like. Thanks to heavy steering, heavy brakes and a heavy
six-speed manual gearbox, they’ve made the syllabub-light body feel like a
meat pie. The 911 is for nancy boy racing drivers. The Aston’s for gentleman
thugs.
That said, it’s by no means uncomfortable. Be in no doubt that it’s a firm
car, designed for the bends, but the suspension never gets panicked by
ridges and potholes in the same way that it does in, say, a Mercedes SL.
It’s always controlled. Down. Up. Stop.
And then there’s the noise. Oh my God. What a soundtrack. From inside, all is
quiet and serene. At normal speed, when the European Union testing people
are listening, all is quiet and serene.
But put your foot down and a little valve in the exhaust system changes
everything. Under full-bore acceleration, this car doesn’t rumble or howl.
It sounds like all the most exciting bits of the Bible. It sounds like
Revelation.
And it’s just so loud. When my wife went for a spin on a balmy summer’s
evening, I heard her change from fourth to fifth a full two miles away.
A Porsche may well have the power and agility to get past, but stuck in the
sonic boom from those exhausts, I suspect the German car would probably
disintegrate before it ever got the chance.
The way it sounds is a good enough reason to buy the Vantage but there’s more:
the way it looks.
This, of course, is the Aston party trick. A Vanquish is so pretty you
overlook the fact its flappy paddle gearbox is useless. A DB9 is so pretty
you overlook the fact it goes wrong quite a lot. And now we have the V8,
which is so pretty you overlook the fact it’s not quite as good as a 911.
In the same way you’d overlook the undoubted charms of Cherie Blair with her
law degree and her international connections for a chance to spend the night
with — I was going to say Jordan, but I think Keira Knightley is a bit
nearer the mark somehow.
Oh and one more thing. The amount of global-warming carbon dioxide produced by
the Aston’s big V8 is roughly equivalent to the amount produced by a dozen
sprinters in a 100m race. Just thought I’d mention it.
VITAL STATISTICS
Model Aston Martin V8 Vantage
Engine 4300cc, eight cylinders
Power 380bhp @ 7300rpm
Torque 302 lb ft @ 5000rpm
Transmission Six-speed manual
Fuel 16.2mpg
CO2 406g/km
Acceleration 0-60mph: 4.9sec
Top speed 175mph
Price £79,995
Rating 4/5
Verdict Looks better than it drives
