Asking a lot. Getting a lot
Bentley is on one hell of a roll, fuelled in no small part by some fine cars. Ben Pulman selflessly volunteers to get hands-on
In the past decade or so I’ve been exceptionally fortunate to run all manner of long-term test cars, but two favourites stand out: an E92generation BMW M3 Competition, and a Mk1 Porsche Panamera GTS. Both had big V8s that were equally happy whipping around the dial or cruising at a few thousand revs, dual-clutch gearboxes that could slur or snap through the changes, and each pulled off that mythical trick of feeling as special in a Friday-night jam as they did on your favourite road.
I never tired of either of them. Both were sporting GTs in essence (and the M3 has definitely suffered a little revisionist judgement that now deems it too heavy, with too many cylinders) and yet I never once felt either needed to be more focused. They darn well did it all. And the overdue point is, after nearly 15 years living with all manner of metal, I know what I like, and the next long-term test ⊲
car might just enter my pantheon of greatness alongside an M3 that some don’t seem to like any more and a big white Porsche.
Enter the Bentley Flying Spur V8, a £200k gateway to maybe the most ridiculous few months my family and I will ever experience. We will forever make a point of telling everyone we know that we once had a Bentley for the summer and used it for everything.
In fact, we already have. Within hours of the Flying Spur arriving we were off to see family in the countryside and my daughter was having a post-nursery picnic in the back. The next evening I took it paddleboarding, and soaking wet gear from the Solent got dumped in the boot (I fall in a lot). It’s been to the beach multiple times in its first week with us, too. It is fantastically opulent, and an utterly ridiculous way for myself, my wife on maternity leave, and our two-yearold and five-month-old to spend a chunk of 2021.
This is the third-generation Flying Spur, a four-door sibling to the Continental GT, and both now share a platform with the current Panamera (while the Mk1 and Mk2 cars were related to VWs and Audis). That’s about as good as the gene pool gets. While any Stuttgart DNA left in the Flying Spur is welcome, you’d never know it is in any way related to a Porsche for all the wood and leather and gentleman’s club ambience.
I have high hopes. I’d not driven a current Flying Spur before this but CAR’s Gavin Green declared of the W12-enginered version: ‘No big limousine today can simultaneously play the high-performance saloon with such conviction.’ And my own experience in a current W12 Continental GT is that there is no finer place in which to consume motorway miles.
So, our car. It was pre-ordered by Bentley and… it’s not how I’d spec it. Slightly because I’m old before my time and like a bit of chrome on my Bentley, but mainly because I’ve actually no idea what I’d go for. Crewe’s configurator is so vast I can’t even decide upon a favourite colour; the choice of paint is split into seven sub-categories and I counted 89 different hues. Then there are over a dozen leather colours, an even greater number of veneers, contrast stitching…
With the decisions made for us, our Flying Spur is Cricketball Red, with Blackline specification (£3620) rather than chrome trim. Inside there’s both Linen and Burnt Oak leather and a Dark Fiddleback Eucalyptus veneer.
The main options are the Mulliner Driving Specification (£10,290, and including 21-inch wheels, quilted seats, and beguiling 3D leather door panels); the Touring Specification (£6480, for
While any Stuttgart DNA left in the Flying Spur is welcome, you’d never know it is related to a Porsche
lane assist, adaptive cruise, night vision, and a head-up display); a £6725 Naim audio system; the £4865 swivelling central display that can be a digital screen, a trio of clocks, or a veneer panel; and £5855 for rear-wheel steering and 48-volt anti-roll technology.
We did ask for one extra to be added, though, a £295 heavy duty rubber boot mat from the accessories catalogue. It’s currently protecting the toonice-for-a-boot carpet, and all is well in our make-believe world.
At least it is now, one month in. Inside the first 60 minutes of having the keys, and after much sweat and swearing, I was convinced the Flying Spur was useless to us and would have to go straight back. But we’ll save that for next month…