‘A word about the baboons,” says the man from Jaguar. ‘You may see some at junctions. They are aggressive and give a nasty bite. Please — steer clear.”
Sometimes it was hard to work out if Jaguar’s decision to launch the new XK in the exotic winelands around Cape Town — home to some of the best driving roads on the planet, as well as the odd pushy baboon — was a sign of supreme confidence, or a lack of it. On the one hand, with their superb sightlines, mammoth straights and whizzy bends, these routes certainly gave the XK plenty of opportunity to let rip (or, as Jaguar charmingly puts it, plenty of opportunity to be driven ‘enthusiastically”). On the other, with all those glorious seascapes, giddy mountain passes and fields of gambolling zebras, you could launch a bin lorry round here and still be fairly sure of positive feedback.
The moment you strap yourself into the XK, however, and hit the fiery red start button, such reservations disappear. This car, you swiftly realise, would be a thrill to drive whether you were in Cape Town or Kirkcaldy.
Its superslick six-speed automatic gearbox — highly ‘enthusiastic”, especially in Sport mode — is equipped with manual override, activated by paddles on the steering wheel. But if the XK decides your driving isn’t sporty enough for Sport mode, it will simply mutter, ‘Oh, give it here”, override your override and take back the reins. It’s a bit like being driven around by a young, hot-blooded and particularly impatient parent.
Seat adjustment, too, is governed by no fewer than five buttons, including one that will get the soft leather upper to close in and deliver what can only be described as a big hug. You need never be sad or lonely again. Along with this micro-pampering comes a dash display featuring icons that swell up as your finger merely comes near, letting you concentrate on the road. This, clearly, is a car that takes responsive to a whole new level. You don’t so much get into the XK as put it on.
Appearance-wise, it’s as if someone took the old XK8, told it to clench its muscles, then pulled an aluminium skin taut over the result. They’ve dropped the front, raised the back, and yanked it in so sharply round the boot that the wheel arches stand out like a thoroughbred’s haunches (boot capacity is still a good 320 litres in metric though, or two golfbags in imperial). Similarly, at the other end, the flanks swoop in like a prizefighter’s fists around a stubby nose and that familiar power-bulge bonnet, thrusting the wheels to the corners. The sleek old gentlemanly Jaguar elegance is still there, but it now comes with a whole lot of not-very-Jaguar-like attitude.
A 4,2-litre V8 engine boots it from nought to 100kph in 5,9 seconds. The only thing capable of beating that round these parts has whiskers and spots — and a cheetah needs four hours to get its breath back. Top speed is just less than 250kph, although this has been electronically limited, since taking it up to, say, 260kph would obviously be irresponsible.
But who cares about all that high-end oomph when you’ll never use it? (Not legally anyway.) No, the XK’s real clincher is the fact that the engine hasn’t been so much tuned as orchestrated, with all sorts of pipes and tubes set up, thrillingly, to pump the resulting purrs, growls and roars — plus a sprinkling of intake and exhaust noise — directly into the cabin. So even a three-point turn can feel like a big day at Brands Hatch.
When I drove the coupe (there is also a convertible) past the boulders and mangrove swamps lining the approach to the winding Fransch-hoek mountain pass, it sounded crisp and eager at light throttle. Then, as the road climbed, I knocked it into Sport. The gearbox instantly dropped a ratio and the cabin filled with the sort of noises not heard on Earth since the Jurassic period.
The experience was extraordinary, especially with all the XK’s computer systems giving the suspension, brakes and wheels a constant talking to, ensuring seamless road-holding. It’s a car even I couldn’t drive badly.
Pedestrians may or may not be grateful to hear that the XK also comes with an intriguing safety feature known as ‘pyrotechnic bonnet deployment”. Should an impact occur, the bonnet will spring up to soften the blow. Thanks to a sensor, this can only be triggered by human contact, which is good news for pedestrians but bad news for dogs.
The news that the next Bond villain will be driving an XK, doubtless in bad-boy black, is perhaps the best indicator of an attitude change for Jaguar, which desperately needs a hit to arrest a sales slump. But why stop at Bond? If Darth Vader ever returns, he’ll be driving a Jaguar XK. And this time nothing will be able to stop him, not even a Cape Town baboon. —