Londoners perpetually moan about cyclists — and rightly so. I could never stand their death-defying ways. But even those on two wheels face a nightmare scenario when trying to navigate those narrow streets in the heart of the city that, come rain or shine (usually rain), are always crawling with tourists who unwittingly step out on to the road when you least expect and are swamped with heavy traffic.
Central London is one of the most stressful places to drive, but the serenity on offer in the opulent new Flying Spur V8 should help combat that. Shouldn’t it? Before we get to that, this downsized luxobarge variant to the W12 shouldn’t really come as a surprise; Bentley is getting good at dabbling with model range expansions. Remember, the Continental started as the GT W12 but then grew, alarmingly so, to cater to almost everyone’s whims. So we’ve got the GTC W12, GT V8, GT V8 S, GTC V8, GTC V8 S, GT Speed and GTC Speed. What’s an extra Flying Spur, hey?
I’d hoped my leg of the test drive would’ve been along the finest countryside that the south east of England has to offer. The North Downs, South Downs and the New Forest were all on our test route.
Instead, a fellow hack seated with me in the plush leather cabin of the V8, replete with 14 bull hides (it takes 138 hours to complete one car and these seats take up 26 of those to sew and stitch…) will get that privilege. I’m fast approaching a decade in the UAE and have grown rather used to driving on the wrong side of the road. Refraining from any angry hand gestures is also now second nature.
But as I sit in a jam outside Piccadilly Circus with the Bentley’s nose — now featuring new headlights with 74 LEDs in them, a flush-mounted grille and more sculpted fenders — dangerously close to a yellow box junction (you don’t want a fine in these parts...) and being bullied into the no-go area by an overly aggressive OAP in, and I’m not making this up, a Morris Minor, my anxious state is understandable.
Matters are compounded as my whopping Silverlake Bentley takes up both lanes and blocks oncoming traffic. Those in their clattering, diesel econoboxes aren’t exactly warming to the sight of this land yacht. The middle finger salute is being thrown in my direction from all angles and I’m expecting a fit of road rage from someone anytime now.
The big 5,299mm B with its 4.0-litre turbocharged motor isn’t appreciated quite as much by those running a diesel 1.2. I probably look like a Premiership footballer, but this Flying Spur is far too restrained. It’s only riding on 19in alloys (20s are optional). But it’s a wonderfully liberating feeling to wave my fist for the first time in years, even if it’s at the 90-year old behind me in the hope he’ll back off from the revised rear end — now with a more squared-off trunk-line, redesigned bumper and updated taillights.
Denting this five-star hotel on wheels isn’t on the itinerary but there’s danger everywhere; handle bars missing the side views by a whisker, old-timers getting all too close to the figure-eight tailpipes (they signify the V8 under the bonnet), bus drivers cutting you up. Then there are all those potholes and double yellow lines to contend with...
The congestion clears and we begin to move. The chaotic West End and the masses of people milling around the Trocadero on Shaftesbury Avenue are in my rear view and I hardly give the Houses of Parliament on the Middlesex bank of the Thames a second glance.
After overtaking a couple of black cabs on Kings Road, I ignore my co-pilot’s pleas to take a little detour to visit Stamford Bridge, home of Chelsea FC. I wouldn’t care if they’d moved my beloved Goodison from Liverpool to London — I just want to get out of here.
This is no place for a twin-turbo V8; red light, green light, traffic cop. Right turn, no turn, must turn, stop. Thankfully, we soon escape the city and head towards the rolling countryside of the Surrey Hills where I can give that 4.0-litre, which also sits in the bay of the Audi S8 and does the biz in a bunch of other cars from the Volkswagen Group, a run for its money. And run — fast — it does.
I don’t for a second miss those four missing cylinders, even though this V8 is the less powerful Spur, if you can really call it that. After all, it has 500bhp and 660Nm of torque and though it may be 116bhp weaker than the W12, I can’t tell. It weighs less too and, as a result, benefits from blistering performance that belies its 2,425kg mass.
Floor it and the twin-scroll turbos give you a mighty shove in the back. The powerband seems endless and it even hides a naughty V8 soundtrack if you listen carefully. That may not be quite in keeping with the car’s suave character, but I like it. However, the W12 is as refined as they come and as I make my way towards Chiddingfold at a steady 70mph, I can’t help but notice this one has a harsher ride.
I’m in Sport and the suspension is in its stiffest setting, which should explain it, or so I thought. Having adjusted the dampers to Comfort (annoyingly, a two-stage process; you push the button with a damper logo on the impeccable centre console, which you’d think would alter the suspension, but it doesn’t; it just brings up a menu on the large touchscreen, which you then have to fiddle with to get your desired setting…) there’s only a hint of a more cushioned ride.
Alarmingly, road noise is all too evident and my car even has a rattling wiper blade. Throttle response is poor in Comfort so back into Sport goes the beautifully detailed black and silver lever. No complaints with that eight-speed auto that sends the grunt to all four corners; it shifts ever so smoothly and never goes missing in action.
We’re into some more engaging, twisty country roads now and the V8 gobbles them up, asking for more. In spite of being a big car, it feels agile and that’s thanks to all four wheels digging in; there’s plenty of grip here and some body roll too, not that I mind; the floaty ride is part of the charm, but there’s that nagging feeling again — it doesn’t quite waft along as it should. I can feel the cracks and bumps on the surface below. I’m supposed to be cocooned from all of that, right?
At least the V8 is very potent and appeals more to tree huggers; at low speeds, four of the eight cylinders shut down to save fuel and it sips 10.9 litres per 100km, pretty economical by Bentley standards. Maybe those environmentalists will be a tad more aggrieved if they see the cabin, which is as lavish as ever. It’s simply top-notch in here and only the finest materials make the grade.
There are 23 individual wood panels (crafted by hand, cured for 72 hours and clear-lacquered, of course…) finished in a fine dark stained burr walnut. Fit and finish is… do I really have to state the obvious? This car can also be had with several different rear seating arrangements; a two-plus-two, fixed-seat setup, a three-wide bench, or a contoured bench offering two-place seating. Good to know.
We reach our coffee stop at the Mulberry Inn situated in the middle of the British countryside. A quick tea and chin wag with the locals and we’re back on the road on the A272 heading to New Forrest.
Along the way, the roads become more challenging and we pass through a couple of small towns. It’s the perfect excuse to slow to a crawl and allow bystanders a good look at the stately Bentley passing through.
The black top opens up once more and I step on it; the glorious wail of the V8 sends birds scattering from tree tops and we make it 20 minutes ahead of schedule for lunch, served at Lime Wood hotel — a country house originally established as a hunting lodge in the 13th century. Parked against the grand building, the Flying Spur V8 looks right at home. It’s built for those with lodgings such as this and it’s been a pleasure to pilot this powerful yet sophisticated car.
My driving partner drives us back towards London but is spared the heavy traffic as we’re chauffeured for the final leg. I jump into the back to enjoy a relaxing massage and check those mounting emails. It has Wifi back here, which connects far better than some other providers, and though it isn’t as fancy as the Mulsanne, it’s still pretty darn good. Nobody in their right minds will complain about their accommodations.
This new addition makes a lot of sense in many ways; it’s cheaper than the W12, not as thirsty and will no doubt keep the über-luxe buyers happy while at the same time attract new customers to the brand, which was probably the whole point.
As model expansions go, it’s a good move and Bentley will surely reap the rewards. However, even though it’s been a memorable drive, drivers may want to opt for the Continental. I’ll have the GTC Speed, thanks. Heck, even a diesel with a tiny 1.2 will do. Anything beats a bicycle.
