One of the first James Bond movies I remember watching as a child is Goldfinger. Sean Connery (the quintessential Bond) played the as-slick-as-a-politician-turned-BEE-millionaire secret agent 007 for British intelligence agency MI6. The movie featured the first in a series of Bond girls with daft names (Pussy Galore), but, more importantly, it featured Bond’s Aston Martin DB5.
It was perhaps at this point in my life (being all of eight or so years old) that I realised I wasn’t like other girls who were probably dreaming of growing up into flimsy Bond girls with cheesy, trollopy-Âsounding names. Instead, I dreamt of the cool gadgets and the car with built-in machine guns, revolving number plates, a wheel-mounted tyre slasher and an ejector seat. Like any child of the Eighties I was entirely taken by Bond — there was no movie character as exciting and debonair as him — and everything that went with his image, such as his souped-up DB5, was the stuff of many children’s dreams.
So when I received a press release about Aston Martin officially entering the South African market last year, I knew I would have to hound the releÂvant PR people to get my hands on one of their legendary vehicles. And a few weeks ago, I was given the rare opportunity of spending the day with a DB9 — so special an occasion, I even used some of my treasured Chanel No 5.
The Aston Martin people are just about the friendliest folk you can come across. No airs, no graces, no pretences — just down-to-earth professionalism. Sales manager Nic Naylor could see that I was a tad nervous about driving a R2,1-million car for the day, so after briefing me on certain features, such as where to find the hidden fuel release flap that almost drove Jeremy Clarkson to tears, he said: “Don’t be afraid to drive this car. It loves to be driven, so go out there and have some fun.”
Well, you don’t have to say that twice to any motoring journalist, as I proved by taking off from the dealership a lot quicker than I would’ve liked to.
The DB9 is a truly beautiful vehicle. The coupé I was driving was jet-black, looked a bit like a stealth bomber and moved like one too, now you see it,blink, now you don’t.
When I parked it for the first time, I noticed that it was gorgeous from every angle. Try as I might I couldn’t find anything amiss, from the wide grille that accentuates the very long snout to the smoothly sloping roof that drops down into one of the most stunning rears you’ve ever seen. You get the distinct idea that the DB9 was conceptualised not only to look like it’s a cut above the rest, but to do it with the sort of ease that comes with generations of blue-blooded breeding.
Inside, you’re treated to a mixture of leather, suede, wood and chrome and, again, there’s hardly anything incongruous about the superb fit and finishings, except for the very basic flip-down sun visors.
Another confusing feature is that the car is described as having 2+2 seats. I’ve never before seen two more completely pointless seats in a car than the DB9’s two rear seats — there is absolutely no legroom, so if you were thinking that the seats might accommodate hobbit-like friends or even tiny tots, they won’t.
There’s simply no space behind the front seats, which slide back all the way to the point where the back of the chair is crunching up against the rear seats. And the roof starts to slope down quite dramatically from behind the front seats, so in addition to no legroom, you also don’t have any headroom. I can only think that Aston Martin might have meant this to be a storage space of sorts or that it envisaged humankind would have progressed to the point where we would have to transport extra-Âterrestrials around, because Steven Spielberg’s ET with no legs and the ability to shrink his neck into his body is about the only creature that might fit into the DB9’s rear seat.
More useful features include ABS, EBD, emergency brake assist, dynamic stability control, traction control, ventilated brake discs, electric, heated seats, xenon lights, four dual-stage airbags, cruise control … the list goes on and on.
Of course, when you push the start button and you hear that hypnotic growl and feel the gurgle of V12, six-litre power, you couldn’t care less about the rear seats — in fact, you wouldn’t even be bothered if it didn’t have a passenger seat because you, the DB9 and a stretch of open tar are the definition of driving pleasure.
I stepped on that accelerator at every opportunity and felt the rawness of power, tempered ever so slightly by English sensibility, to give one the sort of confidence that few drivetrains offer.
Even my mum, who normally abhors sports cars, said: “This doesn’t feel anything like the other sports cars. Pity there’s so much traffic, otherwise we could’ve really opened it up!” And as she said that with an honestly disappointed huff, I started to understand where my love for performance comes from.
In the time it took my mum to sneeze, say “excuse me” and reach for a tissue in her handbag, I had accelerated from 80kph to about 180kph. While I’m acutely aware that there are far more powerful sports cars on the road, such as the Mercedes-Benz SL65, the DB9 nonetheless delivers mind-blowing performance combined with the sort of superb road-holding (thanks to front and rear independent, double wishbones) and overall comfort that makes it the stuff of dreams.
I recently saw a snippet of the upcoming Bond movie, Casino Royale, and I’m pretty sure I caught sight of the new Bond in a DB9 Volante and all I can say is that I’m thankful that, while Bonds have changed over the years and while he’s experimented with different sports cars, it’s good to see the timeless spy coming back to a car that’s equally timeless.
Fact file
Model: Aston Martin DB9 coupé
Price: R2,1-million
Engine: 6,0-litre V12
Tech: 335 kW, 570Nm
Top speed: 300kph, 0 to 100kph in 5,1s
Tank: 80 litres