When I got offered the chance to test drive the Bentley Flying Spur V8 there was no hesitation in saying yes to getting behind the leather clad steering wheel of this luxury motor. I had a smile on my face for most of the week. That was until I started telling people that I was going to be driving a Bentley around Dublin for a few days.
First up my housemate crowed "you're not parking it outside the house". Excuse me? Where else does one park their Bentley? Apparently, having a Bentley outside the house will 'draw attention' and may encourage burglars looking for the keys to the car. I was quite shocked at her negative thinking. I thought most people would love to have a Bentley parked outside their house; it would appear not. However, she was quite happy to be driven around in the car.
The other members of CompleteCar.ie hardly batted an eyelid when I told them I was getting a Bentley. A BENTLEY! "Thirsty machines" is as much as I got out of them. Geez, guys, great, thanks for the shared enthusiasm. But I just put this down to them being jaded motoring hacks!
My nan asked if I wasn't scared driving a big car like that and my brother told me I better not scuff the wheels. My mam just gave her usual advice ("be careful"). My dad was a bit more constructive with his remarks telling me to take it easy as it is an extremely powerful car and I need to respect that. I always do. Power scares me!
My excitement was waning and I drove up to Belfast to collect the car wondering if I should just take it for a quick spin rather than take it back to Dublin. I hated everyone for putting these thoughts in my head.
However, when I saw the car in all its Black Sapphire painted glory and sat in the navy and cream sumptuous interior I knew I wanted to spend some time properly getting acquainted with this V8 Flying Spur.
I spent about 30 minutes taking photos of the car and bragging about it on as many social media channels as I could. Nobody gave a shit. Well, not many and not as many as I thought. Maybe Bentleys aren't the big deal I thought they were. Maybe nobody is impressed with a quarter-of-a-million Euro car.
And that actually seemed to be the case. As I rolled out of the Bentley showroom and straight into Belfast traffic nobody turned and stared. No jaws dropped. Nobody stopped to take photos. All of these things I had become accustomed to since they had all happened when I was in the Audi R8 V10 plus, the BMW M2 and the Ford Mustang. I was actually annoyed that nobody was paying attention to me in the most expensive car I had ever driven. And, in my eye, the best looking, too.
When I got back to Dublin my mam said it looked like the Chrysler 300 that Dad used to have. My brother remarked that it had a "decent sized boot", but if he had the money he wouldn't buy one as there are "way better cars out there for the same money". I drove off in a huff. What do they know?
I went to show off the Bentley to our very own Road Test Editor; surely he would appreciate such an exquisite machine, but he just called it an "expensive Volkswagen".
That's it. I had it. Why was everybody intent on pissing on my parade?
It looked nothing like a Volkswagen. In his very own column this month he is bemoaning the fact that cars are becoming homogenised and yet he seemed blind to the beauty and individuality of the Bentley. The cabin is glorious with all its quilted leather and wood. The stitching is a work of art. The metal dials and silver organ buttons are a joy to look at and use. The seats can be adjusted in every which way so that they support you and create the most perfect driving position whilst massaging you at the same time. The steering wheel adjusts to suit even the fussiest of drivers. The lines are all graceful curves and the dash and steering wheel are shaped like the wings of the Bentley emblem. The cabin is as elegant, clean and classy as the exterior. And neither the cabin nor exterior look like other cars, (ok, the outside does look a bit like the Chrysler 300).
And yet, even though nobody was paying attention to the car, I was too nervous to park it up in town. I had visons of someone keying the side or mugging me for the keys. I had never even considered this stuff before. So I parked the car in my friend's secure garage.
And that is where it has stayed all weekend. Locked away just in case someone damages it. Locked away because the potholed, congested streets of Dublin make driving it a bit of a chore. Locked away because the multi-storey car parks are too bloody narrow to confidently drive the car around. Locked away where nobody will get to see and appreciate its wonderful craftsmanship. Locked away because even if I did want to show off the car, that's a social faux pas in Ireland, showing off nice things. I mean, how dare I and who do I think I am and all that. Locked away because what roads would allow me to test the car's powerful V8 motor, speed and handling? For sure, as soon as I find a decent stretch of road there would be a speed camera van or Garda there to halt any driving pleasure.
I really wish I didn't feel this way. I really wish we could have nice things. I would love to see these machines on our roads, the way they litter the streets of London. But until peoples' attitudes change and our motor tax is spent on our roads, I just can't see that happening, and that's a shame, because we are really missing out on some unique vehicles that don't look and feel like everything else.
The Bentley is locked away for its own good. Because Dublin, nay Ireland, is no place for Bentleys.