The Aston Martin DB9 – Britain’s superior spy machine – is as unsettlingly brilliant as ever, writes The Wheel Deal.
You should be reading about me roaring around in the new Aston Martin 4.7 Vantage but, as usual, the car gods had other plans. Built to cater to the fortunate few who are loathe to purchase Porsche’s stalwart 911, it turns out that the so-called “Baby Aston” that was set aside for me has suddenly, mysteriously, been relegated to the workshop with minor cosmetic damage. For days I had been looking forward to hearing what’s probably the best sounding V8 engine this side of a Ferrari F430 but now, annoyingly, I’m pacing the showroom floor waiting for a member of the sales team to bring around my replacement. Expecting to get the previous generation model with the smaller 4.2-litre motor – a car that proved to be a proper sales success – you can imagine my surprise when something significantly louder and lovelier pulls up outside the reception area. Soon clutching a hefty crystal-clad key – or Emotional Control Unit in pretentious Aston marketing speak – my discontent dies as I realise that the next day and a half of my life will be spent in the company of a DB9.
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