2012 Bentley Continental GT - The Beautiful Cars of Summer
2012 Bentley Continental GT - The Beautiful Cars of Summer
The glacier white Bentley Continental GT parked in the driveway inspired me to reflect on how a car can be transformative. Why should any sensible investor spend money on a car north of $200,000 in this torrid economic climate? Transformation m
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| The Beautiful Cars of Summer |
ust be part of the package.
I watched pedestrians as they spied the car — they paused in mid-step, and squinted. If they were particularly bold they tiptoed closer for a sneak-peak. This is part one of the Bentley-owner experience — the looks you get from the common man. Then I eased myself into the driver’s seat.
Part two is what happens when you drive a Bentley. You become boss. Driving any kind of Bentley is likely to boost the confidence of a reasonably competent driver. The sheer weight alone (5478 pounds) makes a Bentley easier to handle than a slimmer, leaner friskier sports car (3946 on the Ferrari FF). Yet, the power and speed are easily accessible to a novice driver (552 HP and a 6.0 liter W-12 engine.) For super cars, this is how to have your cake and eat it too. Bentley is staunch about its legendary racing roots, no chauffeur required.
Last week I rode in several models to reflect further on the transformative aspects of Bentley driving. This is not my first Bentley go around the block. At one time, I earned the status of Bentley Girl on a test drive in Spain. I’ve driven Bentley on race tracks in Las Vegas, and through the Swiss Alps onto air fields. I’ve visited the factory in Crewe and watched the women hand stitch the leather. But that all took place in the last days of decadence. I was curious to see if my warm sentiments about the brand could stand the test of changing tides in our material world.
My day of driving Bentleys began in Brooklyn with the new GT that was loaned to me. The thick leather interior reminded me of red velvet cake. The 1100-watt Naim sound system succeeded in waking me up, even without my morning latte. I met a small group of journalists and a few potential customers on Greenwich St. where we paired up in the immaculate Bentley fleet, topped off by the presence of the stately Mulsanne flagship. From the West Village I rode shotgun in the Flying Spur with a well-known auto critic taking the reins.
We paused at a rest stop for a driver’s change. There were those looks again. On the last stretch of the short trip I drove the GTC Speed. I buzzed through a few delirious hills and twisty turns, completely ignoring my turnoff. This is where the options opened up — with Sport mode on ESP for kicks.
And then I did what a proper Bentley owner should do, I looked at great works of art by Alexander Calder, David Smith, and Ursula von Rydingsvard at the Storm King Art Center.
The day ended in typical Bentley-owner fashion. I hitched a ride with cosmetic mogul Essie Weingarten back to the city in the convertible, before she headed out to the Hamptons for the weekend. We noticed that almost a half a tank of gas had been sipped on the day trip — not surprising for a car that gets about 11 mpg. I jumped out on Park Avenue, and headed for the subway. Transformation complete.
I watched pedestrians as they spied the car — they paused in mid-step, and squinted. If they were particularly bold they tiptoed closer for a sneak-peak. This is part one of the Bentley-owner experience — the looks you get from the common man. Then I eased myself into the driver’s seat.
Part two is what happens when you drive a Bentley. You become boss. Driving any kind of Bentley is likely to boost the confidence of a reasonably competent driver. The sheer weight alone (5478 pounds) makes a Bentley easier to handle than a slimmer, leaner friskier sports car (3946 on the Ferrari FF). Yet, the power and speed are easily accessible to a novice driver (552 HP and a 6.0 liter W-12 engine.) For super cars, this is how to have your cake and eat it too. Bentley is staunch about its legendary racing roots, no chauffeur required.
Last week I rode in several models to reflect further on the transformative aspects of Bentley driving. This is not my first Bentley go around the block. At one time, I earned the status of Bentley Girl on a test drive in Spain. I’ve driven Bentley on race tracks in Las Vegas, and through the Swiss Alps onto air fields. I’ve visited the factory in Crewe and watched the women hand stitch the leather. But that all took place in the last days of decadence. I was curious to see if my warm sentiments about the brand could stand the test of changing tides in our material world.
My day of driving Bentleys began in Brooklyn with the new GT that was loaned to me. The thick leather interior reminded me of red velvet cake. The 1100-watt Naim sound system succeeded in waking me up, even without my morning latte. I met a small group of journalists and a few potential customers on Greenwich St. where we paired up in the immaculate Bentley fleet, topped off by the presence of the stately Mulsanne flagship. From the West Village I rode shotgun in the Flying Spur with a well-known auto critic taking the reins.
We paused at a rest stop for a driver’s change. There were those looks again. On the last stretch of the short trip I drove the GTC Speed. I buzzed through a few delirious hills and twisty turns, completely ignoring my turnoff. This is where the options opened up — with Sport mode on ESP for kicks.
And then I did what a proper Bentley owner should do, I looked at great works of art by Alexander Calder, David Smith, and Ursula von Rydingsvard at the Storm King Art Center.
The day ended in typical Bentley-owner fashion. I hitched a ride with cosmetic mogul Essie Weingarten back to the city in the convertible, before she headed out to the Hamptons for the weekend. We noticed that almost a half a tank of gas had been sipped on the day trip — not surprising for a car that gets about 11 mpg. I jumped out on Park Avenue, and headed for the subway. Transformation complete.
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| 2012 Bentley Continental GT - The Beautiful Cars of Summer |
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