The new Aston Martin Vantage is shorter and hotter than the DB11: a smaller, truer sportscar, though slightly less elegant. ‘Gentlemanly’ is what the copywriter calls the DB11, but this is a ‘hunter’ and ‘predatory’. Ferraris, meanwhile, are a little too hot for me – though I accept that they are sublime, if Ferraris are your thing – and the Toyota Supra, which I love – even shorter, even hotter, much cheaper – doesn’t make quite the same impression on the A30. People (I mean men over 40) love Aston Martins. They view them as an expression of British pride, and coo over them like babies, by roaring past, overtaking, and slowing down, and then insisting you overtake them in turn. The whole encounter is managed by hand signals and engine snorts, and it is delightful.
This is the first new Aston Martin sportscar since the Vantage appeared in 2005 – the DB11 and the DBS Superleggera are grand tourers, and the Valhalla and the Valkyrie are eerie beasts, supercars not for the likes of us – which is big news for this column, even if James Bond, who peels mangoes for infants now, acts like a man longing for a Volvo and its peerless safety record.
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