I drove a Rolls-Royce Spectre through a super storm
It’s chucking it down in the airport pick-up zone, the soundtrack a cacophony of announcements, slamming doors, rat-a-tatting wheelie-suitcases, flapping umbrellas and the dull drone of aircraft taking off and landing. The waiting Rolls-Royce’s door closes behind me, and, cosseted inside a shell of black and Tango-orange, things are dramatically different.
Rolls-Royce enjoyed record sales in 2023, with around 6,000 cars wafting out of its Sussex factory. “Factory”, though, doesn’t do it justice. Where I come from – “upp narth” – the mind’s eye image of a factory is a grim, belching thing filled with clanking and hissing machinery.
By contrast, the place Rolls-Royce employees simply call “Goodwood” – a reference to the historic race circuit nearby – is more like a members’ club crossed with a hi-tech university research department. Words like “craftsmanship” and “artisanal” spring to mind.
I wanted to discover the secret to Rolls-Royce’s success: is it just the vehicles, or something more ephemeral? Conveniently, they had a couple of cars available for me to drive through Germany and Austria. It would be rude not to.
The world outside feels like it barely exists – it’s simply a backdrop to the hermetically sealed world inside the Spectre
I was greeted at Munich Airport by a gaggle of relaxed Rolls-Royce people, informally but smartly-dressed in chinos, polo shirts and the sorts of casual jackets for which you scour the internet but can never find. Sadly the weather was not on the same page. Central Europe was victim to devastating floods this autumn and Bavaria was reeling from the extreme downpour as I exited the airport.
I’d be driving a Rolls-Royce Spectre, base price: £330,000, give or take, although like most Rolls-Royces, the cost at delivery is closer to £420,000 once personalised. “It looks so angry”, said one nearby Brit, pointing out its horror movie slit-eye driving lights. And, had it been any other car, you’d have taken a startled step back when you spotted the garish orange interior but Rolls somehow makes it look like the most natural thing in the world.
Had I been in a basic rental car, I’d have stayed in the car park until the storm passed. But extreme circumstances lay bare people, organisations and products; predictably the Spectre wasn’t ruffled by this climactic Armageddon. Indeed, the world outside feels like it barely exists – it’s simply a backdrop to the hermetically sealed world inside the Spectre. The word “cocoon” is in every Rolls-Royce design brief. “A Rolls-Royce is a place where you go for calm,” more than one employee confidently told me.
Rolls-Royce and electric power were made for one-another: all its new cars will be electric by the end of 2030. With 577bhp and 664lbft of torque, stomping on the accelerator would no doubt yield something akin to a SpaceX launch. If you really must know, it takes this behemoth a terrifying four seconds to reach 60mph, roaring on all the way to 155mph v-max. And with a battery range of around 290 miles, there is little range anxiety.
“A Rolls-Royce is not a racing car,” says Dr Phil Harnett, the Dublin-born Rolls-Royce head of future product. Ironic: he spent nearly a decade as an engineer with F1 teams. But he’s right: beyond a brief exploration of its dynamic capability, you soon settle into an easy rhythm when driving the Spectre. The pedal seems to be tuned for elegant rather than explosive acceleration, becoming more responsive with speed.
This car is all about what’s in reserve; there is no hooligan rev-counter, rather a dial telling you how much power you have to spare. It rarely seems to indicate that you’re using more than around 15 per cent of what’s available.
“The power reserve dial is almost psychological,” says Harnett. “That’s why we have powerful engines. Knowing that you have that reserve just gives you the room to relax. It’s also relevant to the suspension. It’s so capable. Some of the professional drivers take the cars around the Goodwood circuit and they’ll have people in sports cars trying to keep up – and they won’t be able to. But our clients will never do that.”
Back in the day, 80 per cent of Rolls-Royce owners sat in the back, and, had they taken to the driver’s seat once in a while, may not have been entirely convinced the steering wheel was connected
Back in the day, 80 per cent of Rolls-Royce owners sat in the back, and, had they taken to the driver’s seat once in a while, may not have been entirely convinced the steering wheel was connected to anything. But in the 2020s, 80 per cent of Rolls-Royce owners drive themselves. And these cars are very good to drive, at least until you reach a potential parking space.
I’m based at the Rosewood Schloss Fuschl Hotel, near Salzburg. It’s 400 years old, magnificent, and just reopened. When pushed, a value of “less than €100 million” was put on its restoration.
I take in the row of Spectres and Cullinan 2s, all set against the picture-perfect lake. Cullinans can carry off some surprisingly garish colours. Sure, some come in discreet blues and blacks, but others come in extravagant reds and greens.
Having earlier driven a Cullinan 2 up into the roads surrounding the lake, I experienced its effortless on-road competence. I took the opportunity to be driven 200km back to Munich’s airport in the rear of a higher-spec “Black Badge” Cullinan in “Morganite” – a sort of strawberry pink.
The design spec is called “Disruptor”, which is apt. The car is powered by an enormous 591bhp, 664lbft, 6.75 litre, V12 petrol engine. The Rolls-Royce driver demonstrated its – and his – ability to make progress at a rate that seemed at odds with the serenity in the cabin. Other drivers tend to give way when they feel the growing presence of a Cullinan looming in their rear view mirror. Meanwhile, I gazed up at constellations: you can specify a roof lining depicting a pinprick star map of the night sky – any date you want – including the odd shooting star.
This may sound laughably opulent but it’s difficult to be cynical, because a Rolls-Royce is authentic. This car is not pretending to be anything except absolute luxury, aimed squarely at its target market of incredibly wealthy people.
Rolls-Royce knows its market, stays true to it, sees its clients as friends and family, is completely and utterly engaged with them
I met former chief exec Torsten Müller-Ötvös just before his retirement in 2023. He clearly had a vision for Rolls-Royce when he took over in 2009; it permeated through the business, and will continue to do so under new boss Chris Brownridge.
Arriving back at Munich Airport, the driver opens the rear door for me. I’m immediately removed from the calm, assaulted by the stares of people wondering who I am. Egressing that Cullinan into the gaze of curious observers feels better than I’d like to admit.
No matter what anybody thinks about its cars and what they represent, Rolls-Royce knows its market, stays true to it, sees its clients as friends and family, is completely and utterly engaged with them, and does not deviate in the slightest from its intent to unapologetically develop, engineer and provide the best. No storm in the world could dent that.