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Shaken and stirred, Miss MoneypennyThe thought ran through my head as I was handed the keys (a jewel of an ergonomic block of technology) and walked towards the new Aston Martin DBS: “I am bonding.” It remained there as I fell in awe of its ‘love-me-at-every-angle’ sinuous shape. I had bonded.
The crisp opening of the driver’s door; the confident sound of its closing clunk; the smugly and satisfying settling into the hand-stitched leather seat – a deeply felt bond.
I could have used “love affair”, but “bond” was a far more masculine word to show the attraction a man has for his machine.
Ensconced in the torso-hugging snugness of leather, the call to start your engine is pure theatre. That key is loaded with promise.
On igniting the six-litre V8 engine and hearing the distinctive, powerful and assertive growl, came a cautious rollout off the showroom floor as if the noble wild beast couldn’t believe its luck that the cage door was open.
Within minutes, the highway stretched ahead. My bond with the love of my life melted into a heightened awareness of a pedigree. “Bond. James Bond.”
Behind the wheel of the Aston Martin DBS, you take on a new persona. It’s a babe machine of the highest order.
I opened the boot at one stage. Big enough to put a big Burberry shopping bag and just enough space left over for a laptop. It did have its own umbrella with matt metal handle which, with the curiosity of James Bond, I expected to reveal a concealed dart or laser to eject at the touch of a button. Alas, I was disappointed. (My only disappointment.) It was just an umbrella!
There is a load of information available in the beautifully produced specs book that Aston Martin provides to lucky journalists like me. But quite frankly, it all becomes a gabble of hardcore facts that may impress the glamorous lady by your side (0 to 100 in 4.3, 380kW at 6 500, 307km/h), but more than likely will not.
What does impress, is the fact that you are the centre of attention on the N1 as cars pull off the fast lane like the parting of the Red Sea, and schoolboys look back and trip
over themselves.
Or in slow traffic, a Vespa motorbike cruises up the dotted line and says, “Not too shabby, eh.”
At R3.6 million, it makes a powerful statement of where you’ve come from, and where you are going.
Only 10 people in South Africa will be buying the DBS this year. That’s pretty conspicuous uniqueness for any car.
Royston Lamond
