Alan Judd

Sense of occasion

The first Rolls-Royce I drove was a 1960s Shadow, across the Cairngorms on the glorious A939 to Tomintoul.

issue 27 September 2008

The first Rolls-Royce I drove was a 1960s Shadow, across the Cairngorms on the glorious A939 to Tomintoul. It was a memorable drive, clear skies, snow-capped mountains, little traffic. When we returned to his Speyside house the owner suggested I try his Jaguar XJ6, which he thought a better drive than the Shadow. It was: even by XJ6 standards, the Shadow’s steering and suspension, geared for the American market, were too light and soft. But there was still something special about effortless stately progress behind that wonderful Spirit of Ecstasy.

Shadows got better as they got younger and I suspect the subsequent Spirit was better still. But my next truly memorable RR drive was a 1954 Silver Dawn which I bought in London on behalf of a friend and delivered to Versailles. It was a car whose presence was an immediate check to loose behaviour, compelling respect and motoring manners. When it snapped its fan-belt on a trial run I immediately forgave it.

Comments

Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months

Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.

Already a subscriber? Log in