Joy Ride

PHer Tony Hetherington hitches a lift in a million pound Bugatti Veyron...

By TonyHetherington / Tuesday, 30 December 2008 / Loading comments

I'm sat here, the day after I went for a ride in a Bugatti Veyron. I still have an uncontrollable smile on my face and am struggling to put into words how utterly excited I am to have done such a thing.

Let's go back to square one. I met Will at 6am on a Sunday morning in a convoy of cars, all headed to a supercar meet. Half an hour later, as we're due to leave and as cheeky as ever, I noticed he had no passenger and asked if I may ride with him to the meeting.

Alas, the organiser of the meet had already staked his claim on that perfectly trimmed passenger seat. Then Will said: 'However, I'm driving home to the West Country this afternoon if you'd like to come along.' Unfortunately I live in North Kent - a real shame, but thanks anyway. And then I got thinking. How often does an opportunity come along like this? That's it - I'm going west...

Confirming it was still ok for the ride, I spend the next few hours chatting with similar supercar owners and, every so often, catching the eye of the midnight blue Veyron parked in the corner that was to be my chariot. I have, genuinely, never been so excited about getting into a car in all my life.

I've been lucky enough to have been a passenger in some truly glorious machinery; everything from RUF's development 911 Turbo through to the stunning Gallardo SuperLeggera that I arrived in. But this, this is a Veyron. A Bugatti. This is the pinnacle of automotive engineering.

This is the car I've been reading about in my favourite magazines for years. This is the car that has made many a journalist speechless. This is it. My legs are wobbling, my stomach full of butterflies and I'm doing my utmost to retain some level of cool.

Sat in the passenger seat while Will was saying his goodbyes, I took the opportunity to grab a couple of pictures and savour the utterly exquisite interior. It's not an extravagant environment, not as oppulent as some of the reports may have you believe.

But each and every surface, button, material or compartment was made, and I use this word intentionally; perfectly. The damping in the movement, the appropriateness of the location. The engine - yes, that 8-litre W16 987bhp engine - was throbbing away quietly behind me.

It certainly doesn't sound like two V8s. It's a very mechanical sound, slightly bassy and one that simply suggests: 'I am a pent up ball of energy and I have power.' It doesn't shout about its potential in the way that an Enzo might.

So, driver in, doors shut, nerves at melting point and any idea of coolness is totally out of the window. We reverse out onto the main road (someone having stopped traffic for us) and I notice each and every person in the car park has their camera pointed at us. Well, at least they caught me smiling.

A light take off and then Will puts his foot down for the cameras. The noise, the environment, the leaves rushing off the window and the force with which my back is pressed against the seat completely takes my breath away. We don't so much accelerate as simply thrust towards the horizon. It just, well, it just goes. Utterly consuming.

A quick stop to check sat nav and directions meant another opportunity to launch. Not a full bore standing start by any means, but quickly get rolling and down goes the throttle. Forget any frame of reference to a fast car that you have. This was in a totally different league.

There's an eruption behind your back - not an intrusive or uncomfortable one, and the whole world goes into fast forward. The giggling (28-year-old) schoolboy in the passenger seat is still very much a giggling school boy.

As we progress along the dual carriageway and on to the motorway Will and I have the opportunity to chat. We talk about his time with the car, the second-to-none service and the permanent electronic link with the factory.

I expected a great service from Bugatti to their customers but what Will describes surprised even him. Unquestioning, faultless service on hand at any moment’s notice. Driving the car really is only a part of the overall Veyron ownership experience. When talking I can tell how proud Will is to own the car.

He knows all the facts, all the specifications and will happily tell you the history of the gearbox development, the audio system manufacturer (a German company famous for perfecting concert halls) or many other key aspects of the car.

Another part of that experience is the attention. Lamborghinis, Ferraris, they all receive attention on the road. However, every single person took a photograph of the car with their phone. Every person. It puts the effect that the Veyron has had on the world’s motoring into perspective.

Will really does consider himself fortunate to own the car and his responsibility to it, and other road users, is exemplary. Therefore, his awareness of when (and more importantly, when not) to put his foot down is impressive.

However, on a couple of occasions we were able to sustain more than a couple of seconds of full throttle. And it’s on those occasions where the Veyron really shows its trump card.

As Will explains: 'Rather than playing with the flappy paddles the best thing to do is nudge the gear lever to the right and the car will automatically, and instantly, change gear to the one that will give you most power and torque at your current speed.'

So, gear lever nudged, foot to the floor and the initial thump in the back is sense-altering; it was that which had impressed me in the earlier short bursts. But once that guttural rumble in the base of your spine has subsided and the engine gets into its stride the experience takes on a whole new level.

The noise of air being rammed into an engine accompanies the most amazing sense of acceleration. Relentless yet somehow calm. And then the horizon simply launches towards you.

I'm still trying to retain that level of cool that I spoke about earlier – but it never happened. Every time I was left speechless and could not stop smiling, even when we slowed down for traffic or were discussing other things.

Alas, the trip had to end at some point and slowly but surely we came upon heavier traffic. Will mentioned he was trying to look for corners to show that it wasn’t simply an autobahn destroyer but a whole lot more – however, they never came. I was ending up further and further west and we had to find a train station. So that was it.

All too quickly my ride in a Bugatti Veyron ended and I was standing at a random train station in the middle of the country thinking about the best passenger ride I’ve ever had. I must admit, I was sad as Will pulled out of the car park and drove off down the road, knowing that I had just experienced something that I’m unlikely to ever do so again.

I had to find my way home, by train, across the country. Not the easiest thing to do on a Sunday afternoon, but it didn’t matter. The 90 mins I spent in a Bugatti Veyron I’m certain to never forget.