Four-up to Le Mans | PH Dream Drive
You can't race your house - but can you live comfortably in a Panamera for 24 hours of Le Mans?
There was a long debate in the car, somewhere on the A28 near Saint-Germain-la-Campagne, about the ideal vehicle for driving to the Le Mans 24 Hours. The criteria were varied, but important. It had to look good once you were down there, ideally while rolling through Arnage’s beer-avenued establishments. It needed enough presence for our annual visit to The Great British Welcome in St Saturnin. It had to be comfortable enough for a nine-hour schlep from the UK. And, most importantly, it needed to carry four people plus everything required for a weekend camped in a field next to one of the greatest motor races in the world.
We all concluded that the car we were sitting in did not quite fit the mould. This was unfortunate, because Porsche had very kindly lent us one for exactly that job. A Panamera 4 E-Hybrid, to be precise; £99k on the road before you start getting carried away with options, and closer to £150k in the spec we had. For that kind of money, you could buy a two-bed house in certain parts of the UK. Or, if you really wanted to immerse yourself in the Le Mans experience every year, probably a modest flat in the centre of Le Mans instead.
Having neither the cash nor inclination to buy a new house, a Porsche roof tent fitted to the top of the Panamera would serve as my accommodation for the weekend. The rest of the team were in rather more conventional canvas, pitched on the legendary PistonHeads campsite run by 1st Tickets.
It is, you have to say, a brave manufacturer that lends a £150k-plus luxury hybrid to four blokes heading to the Circuit de la Sarthe. Braver still to equip it with a roof tent, thereby giving a sleek, low-slung grand tourer the silhouette of a high-speed overland explorer. Say what you like about the Panamera’s styling, but in this spec it had presence. Some of that was Porsche, admittedly; quite a lot of it was the bedroom strapped to the roof.
It was lucky the tents were already waiting for us, because the boot of the Panamera is not the largest thing in the world. The plug-in hybrid hardware does it no favours, and packing four blokes’ worth of clothes, sleeping bags and (because none of us is a spritely 20-year-old anymore) pillows from our actual beds, required a proper game of Tetris. Ben bringing down a bag of parts for a mate didn’t help. Nor did the PH stickers and key rings destined for the campsite. Eventually, everything went in, but only just, and the rear passengers were left with a few friendly bags for company.
Sam, who spent plenty of time in the back, had a slightly different view of the Panamera’s usefulness. As a place to sit while France rolls past the windows, it is exceptional. The legroom is vast, the seats are excellent, and the rear cabin is more tech-fest than punishment zone. From the central rear screen you can control the electric blinds, fire up the seat cooling or activate the massage function. Best of all, the rear passengers get control over the front passenger seat, which is a feature of almost no practical use and endless childish entertainment when the person in front is trying to sleep.
There was wind noise from the roof tent on the motorway, of course, even with the internal roof blinds shut. You can’t bolt a large box to the roof of a Panamera and expect total silence. But the car itself does a remarkable job of isolating you from the outside world. The best proof came while stationary on the Eurotunnel, where a car further down the train had its alarm going off. Windows up in the Porsche, it was weirdly muted, as though someone had turned the rest of the world down. Between the acoustic glass and whatever noise-suppressing witchcraft Porsche has hidden in the structure, the Panamera does a convincing impression of a sensory deprivation chamber.
That made the drive down remarkably painless. The driving position is exactly as good as you expect from a Porsche, and with adaptive cruise and steering assist doing their bit, we made it from Porsche HQ in Reading to Le Mans on a single tank of fuel, with the hybrid system assisting early on. We arrived surprisingly fresh considering the early start and the distance covered. Perhaps, we thought, the Panamera had already ticked off one important Le Mans box.
The next test was whether it would stand out to the 1664-fuelled crowds in Arnage. This was where the car surprised us. It may have been my weekend bedroom on top of it, but the Panamera was papped more often than expected as we drove around Le Mans. To be fair, we didn’t see many other Panameras while we were there, and the front end still screams Porsche to a blurry-eyed race fan, even if the rear could be mistaken for various large, expensive GT-shaped things after a long day in the sun.
By the time we reached Arnage, the atmosphere was at its usual well-lubricated peak. One particularly enthusiastic fan decided to stand directly in our path, aggressively demanding a burnout. In a two-and-a-half-tonne, four-wheel-drive hybrid petrol barge with a tent on the roof. I took the less YouTube-friendly option and steered around him, rather than attempting to vaporise four expensive Michelins for the benefit of the crowd.
Back at the campsite, the Panamera attracted almost as much attention through the fence of the secure 1st Tickets site. The roof tent helped, obviously, but it was a neat thing in its own right. Two locks at the front, push up the box, pull out the extra panel and steps, secure it to the ground, then add four spring-loaded poles at the front and sides. Done. It was also pleasingly dark inside, which helped keep it both cooler and less offensively bright during those intense French mornings.
And when your only car for four people is also your accommodation, that speed matters. We needed to get supplies, drive to different parts of the circuit and make it to our Friday Service at St Saturnin, so the ability to put the tent up and down quickly was genuinely useful. This was not glamping, exactly - but it was far from the worst way to sleep at Le Mans.
So perhaps we had judged the Panamera too quickly at the outset. It was comfortable, it had kerb appeal, and it was proving more useful than expected. But did it drive like a Porsche?
In simple terms, yes. In a longer, more complicated answer, mostly. Our car was fitted with rear-wheel steering, which is not my favourite option. I like to feel as though I have complete control of the rear axle and a clear understanding of what it is doing. In some cars, rear-wheel steer makes me think I’ve got a puncture when taking a roundabout at speed. The Panamera’s system is better than the one in the Cayenne Turbo E-Hybrid I drove recently, but it is still there, quietly nagging away at your senses.
The front end, though, reacts well to inputs, and with the drive mode button on the steering wheel engaged, there is more than enough power to pull you through an apex without too much complaint from the Michelins. You’re never allowed to forget the mass, of course. This is nearly a 2.5-tonne car before you add four people, their luggage and a bedroom, so fully loaded it is nudging the sort of number usually associated with small commercial vehicles. But the adaptive air suspension keeps the body impressively level, maintains the comfort inside and gives it just enough Porsche-ness through a corner to stop you writing it off as merely a fast luxury car.
So all things considered, is it in fact the ideal way to get to Le Mans? Despite its best efforts, our answer was still a pretty firm no. Certainly, it was one of the nicest drives down I have had - although I have also done the trip twice in Caterhams, so the comparison is probably unfair. But it is hard to see exactly where this car fits in the Porsche line-up. You would get more attention in a 911. You could carry more luggage in a Cayenne. You would have more fun on the surrounding roads in a Cayman GTS 4.0. So who is the Panamera really for?
Oddly, the adaptive suspension might have the answer. Open the driver’s door and the car springs upwards like a jack-in-a-box, raising itself to make getting in and out that little bit easier. It is one of the most aggressive entry-assist systems we have tried, and it says a lot about where the Panamera sits.
This is not really a car for four lads going camping at Le Mans, even if it will do a job. It feels more like a four-seat GT for a well-heeled couple who want a Porsche badge, long-distance comfort, enough luggage space for two and no desire whatsoever to drive a massive SUV. Occasionally, they might take friends to a nice restaurant and show off to the neighbours on the way to the pub. For that, it makes total sense.
Sam’s verdict from the back was similar. As a luxury passenger car, it is superb. Heated back rubs, cooled seats, blinds, quietness, space - all excellent. But with an Audi A5 Quattro Hybrid at home doing a broadly similar job for a third of the money, he found himself looking around the leather-lined cabin wondering where the extra £100,000 had gone.
And as a practical tool for active hobbies? Less convincing. We’re not even certain a proper set of golf clubs would fit in the boot, which might explain the large crack in the rear glass screen on our car. Somewhere in its previous life, perhaps, an optimistic owner had discovered the limits of Panamera practicality with an aggressively shoved Callaway driver and an electric tailgate that refused to take no for an answer.
So no, reduced to the pigeonhole that is a four-man Le Mans bus, with all the kit that entails, the Panamera 4 E-Hybrid is not perfect. But it did get us there in great comfort, it did turn heads in Arnage and give me somewhere to sleep - and it turned the passenger seat into a toy for adults. You can’t race your house, then. But, as it turns out, you can just about live in your Porsche.
"Look <insert name of significant other>, it's a practical car - you can even get a roof tent for it!"
"OK, we can have one. But don't get the roof tent. I'm not going camping with you - we're not 15 anymore."
(No offense to those who like camping.)
It was actually brilliant, took all the camping gear no problem, the air-con kept four of us in cool comfort despite a heatwave (we jumped in it at the campsite just to cool down a couple of times), it never missed a beat, and I think we even hit 10 MPG at one stage!
Here it is parked beside some old AMG in Arnage
We're kicking a Le Mans trip for next year about and the Panamera will be the ideal crew car with enough space to carry everything and leaves room for something more special to play with...
"Look <insert name of significant other>, it's a practical car - you can even get a roof tent for it!"
"OK, we can have one. But don't get the roof tent. I'm not going camping with you - we're not 15 anymore."
(No offense to those who like camping.)
I can imagine someone arriving at a festival/race meeting/NC500 campsite in this, complete with Porsche branded cap and jacket. Not a good look.
I know, I know - this says more about me than anyone else...
I can imagine someone arriving at a festival/race meeting/NC500 campsite in this, complete with Porsche branded cap and jacket. Not a good look.
I know, I know - this says more about me than anyone else...
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