Posted: 21 May 2010
Be in no doubt that we were mightily impressed with the way the Porsche worked. Hammond also revelled in its astonishing grunt (and remember there's a more powerful turbocharged version on the way), and we agreed that it's a pleasant enough place to be for a long and largely boring motorway journey enlivened only by fear of what was in that chuffing envelope. But the interior is a bit chintzy, a bit executive, and why is it so damn wide? I don't especially want to get close to Hammond, but I don't like the impression that I'm talking to a bloke in the car alongside.
And so it went on, the Panamera consuming miles constantly, regularly and unemotionally, in the way a bored pub drunk eats the bar-top complimentary peanuts. The letter worked its way through the web of vans, trucks, aeroplanes and everything else in the Royal Mail's vast letter-delivering armoury, whilst largely failing to register on the fatuous lap-top tracking device we'd taken with us.