Now that James Bond is longer in the tooth, he’s possibly considering settling down and starting a family. In which case he’ll need back seats, four doors and a bigger boot. He’ll need a hardworking saloon, the sort of vehicle middle Britons use to hog the middle lanes of the nation’s freeways. But the world’s most famous bachelor is unlikely to feel comfortable behind the wheel of anything other than an Aston Martin, so it’s fortunate that the legendary marque (now in the hands of Prodrive-owner Dave Richards, who bought it from Ford in 2007) has chosen this moment to launch a family saloon. Though it’s not like any other you’ll have seen.
The Rapide is being billed by Aston as its first four-door, four-seat car. Like all new parents, carmakers love to claim firsts for their precious offspring. But the 1941 Aston Martin Atom had four doors and four seats, as did the 1976 Lagonda and the 1994 Lagonda Virage. The Rapide can, however, claim to be the fastest of the four, and it can also claim to be the only one built in Austria.
I first encountered the Rapide in a concrete car park in central London, hidden three stories below ground. It was the kind of location 007 would have approved of. The lift opened and there, in a curious shade of pale beige called “silver blonde,” was the US$207,500 saloon. From the front it looks like a DB9. From the back it looks like a DB9. And from the side it looks like a DB9 that’s been stretched a bit. But that’s the whole point. Bond wouldn’t buy a saloon that looked like a saloon — he’ll want one that looks like a fire-breathing, gravity-defying performance car.
A DB9, in other words.
This means that the only reason to buy a Rapide is its back seats. If they are too small or cramped the car will fail to persuade potential customers (who, let’s face it, are all going to be man racers in deep denial over their parental responsibilities). Aston Martin’s chief designer is the imposing Marek Reichman. He says he feels comfortable in the back. But then he would.
I (less imposing) gingerly opened the “swan-hinged” back door. The two sculpted leather seats, with their tapering headrests, are sunk deep into the base of the car, divided by a huge central armrest bristling with entertainment and air-conditioning controls. The headrests of the front seats have TV monitors embedded into the back of them. There is plentiful headroom. There is even knee room. They are proper seats!
Round at the front, I slide the Perspex fob into the dashboard, let my foot hover over the brake and press the ignition button. A moment’s silence and then the colossal V12 5,935cc engine bursts into life. The magnificent throaty roar bounces around the walls of the concrete bunker. I, too, have a moment’s silence and then burst into laughter.
Along with two friends who have enthusiastically agreed to be backseat lab rats, I drive the car up to ground level, through the city and then off up the nearest highway — 400km on a single tank and without a single whine from the back.
So, are you a family man? Should you buy one of these? Of course not. In no way is it a practical option. Besides, the visibility out the back isn’t great, the boot has a fiddly catch, and the beast is so wide and long that parking anywhere other than your own stately home is a nightmare. But the Rapide is truly a joy to drive. And that’s now a pleasure that you can share with all the family.
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