FROM ALL ANGLES
graduate of London’s Royal College of Art and previously chief designer at Jaguar, the 46-year-old bears a remarkable likeness to Prime Minister David Cameron. “I like to imagine people as cars,” he tells me over mouthfuls of salmon tartare. “A Rolls walks that fine line of status and authority. I imagine Peter Cushing or Rita Hayworth. It needs beauty, intellect and a little bit of arrogance. If you have a conversation with it, the car will get the upper hand.”
The Ghost has been Rolls’ best-selling car. Orders are up 40 per cent in the AsiaPacific region and, startlingly, 60 per cent in supposedly belt-tightening Europe. The Ghost is the junior of Rolls’ two four-door models, the daddy being the Phantom. While the Phantom is a behemoth rarely driven by the owner, the Ghost is more akin to a long-wheelbase Mercedes S- Class, though considerably more expensive. But to compare a Ghost with an S- Class is to miss the point, because a Rolls-royce is like no other car.
You don’t drive a Rolls-royce; it wafts. You don’t travel; the world comes to you. There is no sport button, no paddle shift. Screens are hidden behind wood and only appear if needed. The only labelling in the cabin are
THE EXTERIOR OF THE GHOST SERIES II COMBINES IMPACT AND RESTRAINT. THERE’S AN ECONOMY OF LINE, BUT ALSO VERVE