‘… and then Clooney said to me…’
Bentley ownership doesn’t just get you some tasty wheels – it’s your passport into a dierent world. By Steve Moody
IF YOU’RE A Bentley owner, you’ve no doubt got several lavishly appointed houses, a selection of flunkeys and some quite exquisite shoes. You probably smell lovely too. What more could you want from life? Experiences, that’s what, preferably of the money-can’t-buy type… except these days money can buy pretty much any experience you like, such as becoming President or being a spaceman. Or both.
For a lot of money you can pick from a variety of Bentley owner experiences, which include taking your car for a spin to Le Mans or borrowing one of Bentley’s cars and driving it across Bolivia.
This is way beyond my means, but in full journalistic deep-dive mode I get myself invited to spend time with the Bentley M-Sport racing team in the Blancpain series race at Silverstone. This includes the opportunity to join the pre-race Bentley parade around the GP circuit.
I go to the Bentley pop-up tent at the circuit entrance and pick up the itinerary, a fistful of passes and some lanyards. When offered toiletries, free hand-made chocolate and some sort of artisan gin it seems churlish not to take them. The full Bentley owner experience, of course.
A British Racing Drivers’ Club sticker allows the Bentley to pass unhindered into the club’s parking enclosure, way beyond the public car park and next to the old pits. It’s a bit of a bunfight for parking spaces, with Bentleys of various types clogging the place up, but also a lot of other cars worth a gawp, with a Ferrari F12 tdf and Jaguar D-Type standing out.
Once your electronic tags have got you through the hallowed gates of the BRDC and into their clubhouse you can sign up for a pit walk, garage tour, driver briefing and shuttle bus round the circuit. But more importantly, there’s a Sunday roast to be had. I scoff it down, although some of the other guests seem less impressed. When you have peacock pancakes for breakfast, your palate is probably more refined.
While I’m picking at my undercooked roasties, the team give their thoughts on the day’s racing. The performance-balancing use of weights and restrictors has made the cars extremely tightly bunched, with split seconds separating a fabulous field of Lamborghini Huracans, Mercedes-AMG GTs, McLaren 650s and Nissan GT-Rs as well as the Bentleys. It’s all in the pitstops, tyre wear, brilliant driving and the luck of the draw with the Safety Car, it seems.
Then it’s time to get in the car for the pre-race parade. Lastgen Contis wearing stickers of many European jaunts, a smattering of Bentaygas, a beautiful brand new jet-black Continental Supersports and even a Mulsanne begin to queue. I join at the back, not wanting to get in the way of the real owners.
I know that the Continental is not entirely suited to track driving, but with the sun out, the roof down and the exhaust in fully cackling, roaring, booming Sports mode, it really is a joy. Foot flat to the floor and that vast car bolting forward, a thought strikes me: I hardly ever drive at full chat. I normally just tootle about, listening to the perfect Naim sound system, the engine bubbling away in the background. But I should do more of this, because at the top end of the revs it is has a much harder edged, more metallic roar.
By the second lap CAR’s Bentley is starting to prove just how much work it has to do. Each corner sees the tyres
squealing, even under moderate load, while the vast brakes are already starting to fade. Slowing nearly three tonnes from three figures is quite a job.
The race itself is a cracker. The Bentleys are pretty competitive, with the second car of Vincent Abril, Andy Soucek and Maxime Soulet leaping into contention from outside the top 20 during the first round of pitstops. In the second stop, it looks like they might challenge for a win, and there’s a burble of excitement in the garage, but their pace towards the end just isn’t quite there, while at the front a Huracan and AMG GT run nose to tail for nearly an hour, finishing only 0.3 seconds apart.
Fifth is a good result for Bentley Number Eight. We’re a good team, us Bentley people, I reflect, munching on my hand-made chocolates on my way home (gin safely undrunk, I should add). What next? Hmm, that Bolivian experience sounds like fun…