Time Out: Rolls-Royce Wraith

The Rolls-Royce Wraith, for those of you unfamiliar with the car company’s ‘baby’ model, is a coupe that borrows much of its styling from the flagship Phantom, but with one big difference: in the Phantom, you sit in the back; in the Wraith, the front’s where you want to be. That’s where I was going to be. It seems an exaggeration to say that I saw the front of the car arrive quite some time before the rear, but such a behemoth is the Wraith—it’s over five metres long—that’s really what it was like. Watching the Wraith park is akin to watching a supertanker dock—a sleek, graceful supertanker, naturally.

It may be big, but the plethora of gadgets make the Wraith easy to fit in a space . . . just

The handover already a semi-forgotten memory, I found myself at the helm. I was comfortable, the air con was set just so, yet I could feel the beginnings of a cold sweat coming on. I had to drive this thing, this quarter million pound monster, and there was a crowd beginning to form. Perhaps London’s Admiralty Arch, a stone’s throw from Trafalgar Square, the city’s busiest tourist destination, was a bad place to pick the car up from. Still, no going back now . . .

The Wraith continues to look after you even once you’ve arrived, thanks to the built-in umbrellas

This is no contortion; the doors really do open backwards for more graceful ingress and egress

With the bonnet extending as-near-it-makes-no-difference to the horizon, and the boot somewhere back in Kent, I felt overwhelmed. With London’s tight, crowded streets awaiting me, the responsibility seemed almost too much. But with the inevitability of one of London’s parking ninjas appearing out of nothing at any moment, I had no other choice—it was time to go. Foot down, squeezing gently, a gentle rumble from the distant exhausts, and we were away.

The bonnet mascot, the Spirit of Ecstasy, can duck into the nose at the push of a button

I joined my first queue a mere thirty yards up the road, but already was I beginning to realise an amazing truth about the Wraith: it’s a great car for commuting in. That sounds frankly bonkers, but let me explain. With a throttle pedal that nurses a clumsy foot and a brake pedal that feathers the car to a stop with spooky finesse, this big car is a relaxing and charming thing to move along a queue in. Usually by this point I’d be nudging the car ahead along, hunched over the steering wheel, eyes twitching, but in the Wraith, no. I even decided to listen to Ken Bruce on BBC Radio 2. That’s how relaxing this car is to drive. Even as the lanes began to merge, it was no issue. A good seating position, a useful marker on the nose—the Spirit of Ecstasy, I think she’s called—and a variety of camera views on screen for tight situations make the Wraith a breeze to usher along, so soothing it should be available on prescription.

Despite being a coupe, the back is surprisingly spacious. The trim is, of course, world class

All the toys can be accessed through Rolls-Royce’s version of the iDrive infotainment system

You might be wondering then why Rolls-Royce chose to fit this rolling armchair with a 6.6-litre twin-turbo V12 capable of belting out a rather alarming 624bhp. So was I, until I realised I was about to miss my turning off a roundabout, no thanks to Ken Bruce’s distractingly mellow baritone. A prod of the right-hand pedal and—ohmygoodness—we’re off. I don’t know what part of CERN this car was developed in, but it certainly seems to do the laws of physics as we understand them no favours. Gather myself together, give the pedal another, firmer prod—was that tyre squeal? I think it was.

The two letterbox-sized pipes poking out the back hint at the ridiculous power on offer

Yet the most impressive feature on this car, beyond the starlit roof or the retractable bonnet mascot or anything like that, is one you might not expect. London is a tricky town to drive around at the best of times, let alone during rush hour on a Friday afternoon. But here’s where the Rolls-Royce plays its trump card: it’s a brand that everyone loves. Taxis, buses, other car drivers, they all let me out at side roads with a flash of the lights, a wave and a smile. This happened time and time again. Rolls-Royce is a brand that resonates so deeply among the British—we are a proud and patriotic people after all—that even in a time where obvious wealth is something of a taboo, people value its existence regardless. If I’d been driving something like a Ferrari or a Lamborghini, my day would have been mired by the usual furore that accompanies a London commute—if not worse—but in the Rolls-Royce Wraith, it was a different story. Forget Smart cars or the G-Whizz—the Rolls-Royce Wraith is the best commuter car ever.

With thanks to Rolls-Royce for the loan of the car. Visit www.rolls-roycemotorcars.com for more information.