In lieu of doing any real work, I was recently at Bonhams, New Bond Street, looking at watches that were coming up for auction. Among the Rolex Daytonas and Patek Philippe perpetual calendars was an item that caught my eye: a small, solid-gold rectangle about half  the size of a matchbox. It had a divide in the middle, a large rectangular button at each end, and the letters BR inlaid – in solid platinum, no less – in one corner. Pressing the buttons caused the spring-loaded case to split open at the centre, revealing a miniature Cartier clock. It had been entered into Bonhams’ flagship sale on account of originally belonging to an Australian called Bernard Rubin – hence the monogram. Rubin was one of the ‘Bentley Boys’, the famed group of adventurous young men who raced for the marque in the 1920s. The son of a pearl fisheries grandee, Rubin was the first Australian to ever win Le Mans, driving  a Bentley 4½ litre to victory in 1928. 

It was a small and simple object but the little ‘purse watch’, as Bonhams described it, conveyed such a sense of place and personality. Classy, well-made and a little flamboyant, the watch and the importance attached to its provenance reminded me of the tangible brand identity that Bentley continues to enjoy. Despite the various changes in ownership and location, to say nothing of technological advancement and globalisation, we still expect the Bentley of today to embody values enshrined a century ago: a Bentley should be aristocratic, suave, and a little rakish. It should be fast, and it should have presence. 

All that stuff can, of course, veer into cliché. What does a posse of gentleman drivers with their neckerchiefs, pencil moustaches and goggles tell us about a new hybrid grand tourer and its suitability for the modern world? There may be a tendency to assume that Bentley might not be sufficiently contemporary if those are its cultural touch points. But when I got behind the wheel of the new Continental GT Speed, at no point did I feel moved to cry ‘tally ho’.

This is the most powerful road-going Bentley ever made, with 771bhp from its combination of petrol V8 and electric motor, and, despite also being one of the heaviest (with a driver and full tank, it’s a three-tonne car), it still gets from 0 to 60mph in 3.1 seconds, and on to 208mph. It’s got four-wheel steering and a fancy active anti-roll system, plus an electric limited slip differential and torque vectoring – so I’m sure a better driver than I could take this muscular, snarling V8 and make it dance nimbly around a racetrack. But that’s not what you buy a Bentley for, really.

And I’m sorry to burst anyone’s bubble, but everything goes this fast these days; in the age of EVs, even your Uber gets away from the lights with a lurch. A Continental GT Speed from 10 years ago was exactly 2mph slower flat out, and 0.3 seconds quicker to 60.

What you are buying when you choose a Bentley over the equally fast, almost as good-looking competition from Aston Martin or Ferrari, is a mood. Buy this specific new GT Speed and some of your £236,600 (as tested, with 30 grand’s worth of ‘first edition’ trim, a whopping £14,100 worth of ceramic brakes, and nearly £10,000 of metallic paint) has been spent on a new hybrid system. This is where things get interesting. 

Environmentalists will say, correctly, that adding batteries and a motor to a luxury flagship tourer does not make you Greta Thunberg. Car purists will point out, again entirely rightly, that adding a hybrid powertrain is a vicious circle, increasing the car’s mass, which requires additional strengthening and ever more ingenious hardware and software obfuscation of the raw laws of physics – to say nothing of increased complexity and a less analogue feel. On the other hand, it allows Bentley to claim mpg and emissions figures that are 10 and 20 times more efficient, respectively, than that GT Speed from a decade ago. 

More relevant than any of that – because let’s face it, if you’re buying a luxury car of any kind, environmental concerns aren’t front of mind – is the way the car helps deliver on that quintessential Bentley personality. I never would have thought it, but one of the most satisfying things about driving this monstrously capable cruiser was silently creeping through London – and later Bristol – in full EV mode. It felt very aristocratic – the motoring equivalent of padding about a country house in velvet slippers and a silk dressing gown. You get 50 miles electric range, and can charge that up once you’ve fired up the turbos, which kick in with the noise and temper of a startled rhino. 

As mentioned, it’s dastardly fast – but not in a way that requires you to pin your eyelids back. On the road there is a bit too much mass for that, even with all the trickery. It’s best at effortlessly blowing past in the outside lane, just a tickle of the right foot and you’re away. Switch on the massage seat, crank up the extraordinarily good – really, truly, world class – Naim hi-fi and exist in your own little world. Except, annoyingly, even Bentley must abide by the rules, which means this is one aristocrat whose nanny still keeps him in line. 

Lane assist is tolerable (and you can turn it off, as usual); the polite bong when you stray over the speed limit mildly annoying (it stops if you go faster, which is one way of resolving the issue); but the frequency with which the brakes automatically cut in will frustrate experienced drivers. You don’t buy £14,100 ceramic dinner plates if you don’t intend on using them. 

It’s a shame because this is such a wonderful car in so many ways, so blessed with good looks on the outside – the first mainstream Bentley to be styled with single headlamps since the 1950s – and a sense of theatre on the inside; so finely put together and so easy to operate. It might just be that it’s hard to live up to such a rakish image these days. But if you cultivate that moustache, from the outside looking in, the rest of the world doesn’t have to know. 

From £236,600, visit bentleymotors.com

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