In the bleak and bitterly cold heights of the French Alps, a short drive from Courchevel’s heliport, sits a car more regularly seen prowling around financial districts and five-star hotels. Up here, above the clouds, the conditions are more suited to military vehicles and mountain goats, but the V8 Bentley Flying Spur looks surprisingly comfortable among the snow-capped trees and jagged rocks. With barely a second to orientate myself or throw on an extra layer, I’m presented with the key, a full tank of fuel, 500bhp and a set of Pirelli’s finest winter rubbers. All necessary equipment, considering my journey would take me across 300 miles of twisty alpine asphalt and frozen mountain passes, to sample some of the finest slopes and gastronomic experiences Courchevel and Gstaad have to offer. Welcome, gents, to The Gentleman’s Journal’s winter road trip.
Offered the choice of holiday destination, I’d nearly always have chosen the warmer climes in mid-January. Or that’s what I thought until I was sitting behind the wheel of the Flying Spur high above a white valley floor with the aroma of freshly trimmed leather and highly polished wood veneer filling my nostrils. Weighing in at two and a half tonnes, the car before me is nothing short of a full-bodied luxury liner; a nod to age-old British institutions and smoking jacket sophistication. Fully acquainted with my new travel companion and, more importantly, with the driver’s seat massage button located, road trip accomplice and ski aficionado Tom and I set off on our decent to the boutique-lined streets of Courchevel.
Not so fast. There’s already a problem, and a steep and slippery one at that. It’s a funny feeling when you’re piloting a car worth £149,000 down a twisty, ice covered pass while a hefty 4-litre twin-turbo V8 is acting alongside gravity to pull you down faster than you can reach for the brake peddle. It’s a moment that challenges every fibre of a gentleman’s sensibility. While edging closer to the hairpin bend, it appeared I was in good hands; the Spur’s four-wheel drive, combined with a fast-thinking electronically assisted braking system, made for a reassuringly panic-free decent. Despite the slippery ordeal, we make it safely to the cosy rest stop at Le Lana Hotel in Courchevel 1850, just in time for a much needed aperitif.
Waking up early the next morning, and with the ski lift within striking distance, we made for some of Europe’s finest slopes, clutching a pair of Swiss-crafted Zai for Bentley skis. Tucked away in a picturesque valley in the quiet town of Disentis, Switzerland, Zai’s team of ski-dreaming craftsmen cobble together some of the finest materials – wood, stone and even carbon fibre – to produce a selection of skis, including the Zai for Bentley pair strapped to my feet. Complete with Bentley’s signature ‘Flying B’ mounted on the tips, these ice gliders are for a select few who buy Bentley and want to shout about it. In a similar fashion to their cars, these skis don’t hang around when shown the fastest way down a mountain, and nor should they wearing a price tag of nearly £7,000.
But it’s wrong to assume it’s all play on The Gentleman’s Journal winter adventure. After a very healthy dose of piste-side dining at Le Cap Horn restaurant, the sun’s disappearance was a timely reminder that the long road to Gstaad lay ahead. It’s on the snaking decent to the valley floor that the Flying Spur really comes into its own. Again, its four-wheel drive system, when coupled to the V8 powerplant and smooth automatic eight-speed transmission, give the Spur a joyous balance of stability and agility through the sweeping hairpin bends. In the cabin, however, you’d be pushed to know you had 500bhp under your right foot, with almost excessive levels of soundproofing eradicating all but the stifled sound of the engine’s brunt. But on the whole, the Spur strikes a delicate balance between sporting prowess and the supersaloon spec comfort you’d expect from a brand rooted in opulence and bespoke craftsmanship.
Reassuringly, it’s a similar story in the back. Swapping drivers at the Franco-Swiss border, I made for the backseat in a bid to sample the more stately side of motorway mile-munching. With the optional Naim sound system at full tilt and the rear seat screens projecting James Bond in high definition, the backseat of the Spur can make a three-hour motorway slog feel like a pleasure cruise – but at a cost of £10,000 for the combined package.
After sampling the Spur’s sedate side on the speed camera-riddled Swiss motorways around Geneva and Lake Lausanne, I once again found the air was thinning as we travelled skywards towards our fairytale destination. For those gentlemen, unlike me, who are familiar with the fickle nature of alpine weather conditions, the asphalt high in the Alps is particularly adept at morphing into three-foot snowdrifts faster than your god-given eyes can cope with. With even the most wisened-faced locals choosing to opt for another route back home, we soldiered on in the Flying B, battling near whiteout conditions and passing only the occasional piste vehicle and bemused chalet dweller. The all-road capability of Bentley’s luxury limo is surprising to say the least, and it has the unique ability to instil Biggles-esque fighter pilot levels of confidence into even the most withdrawn drivers, as can only be achieved by a car of its heritage and standing. Feeling like a less impressive but hugely more comfortable Captain Scott, we pulled onto the driveway of our final destination. Yet another alpine oddity, the Gstaad Yacht Club, which, given the nearest ocean is a five-hour drive away, is both confusing and contradictory, but nonetheless a welcome sight – as was the bottle of 1992 Château Palmer awaiting us.
Returning to more conventional modes of transport is never easy after a 300-mile road trip of alpine Europe’s most impressive hillscapes, hotels and eateries in a burly continental cruiser. Although it’s expensive, and a little dated when compared to the tech-savvy Mercedes S-Class, the British-made Bentley is a brute of a supersaloon, and one that will not disappoint in everyday life or, as I found, should Mother Nature wage war against you.
This devilishly decadent and uncompromising machine makes a statement in an age of scrutiny and eco-sensitivity. Whether that’s the right statement to be making is down to personal preference, but it’s difficult to find a cross-continental companion that will traverse a mountain. And while it might break the bank, it certainly won’t break your smile.
Become a Gentleman’s Journal Member?
Like the Gentleman’s Journal? Why not join the Clubhouse, a special kind of private club where members receive offers and experiences from hand-picked, premium brands. You will also receive invites to exclusive events, the quarterly print magazine delivered directly to your door and your own membership card.
