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Aston Martin Valour vs Porsche 911 S/T: the battle of the manuals

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Aston Martin Valour vs Porsche 911 S/T: the battle of the manuals | Top Gear

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Aston Martin Valour vs Porsche 911 S/T: the battle of the manuals

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Aston Martin Valour vs Porsche 911 S/T: the battle of the manuals

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Ollie Kew: After decades of flappy paddles, DSGs, PDKs and DCTs, the manual is now sexy and coveted. Shorthand for ‘connoisseur’. A centrepiece in the Valour, and in the GMA T.50, the Pagani Utopia and Koenigsegg CC850, the simple pleasure of changing gear is back. Just seems a shame that you have to pay a million quid to get started...

Jack Rix: Au contraire mon frère! Here at Top Gear we’re all too aware of the lingering cost of living crisis, how hard it can be to make ends meet, which is why I’ve brought along a bargain basement alternative to the ludicrously expensive Valour. A salve to the wallets of all those who crave good old fashioned analogue interaction with their motor vehicles. I give you the keenly priced Porsche 911 S/T – list price £231,600, long since sold out of course, but lightly used examples are available... for upwards of £450,000.

OK: You martyr, bringing that all the way over to Wales. Thing is, trying to make a rational case for the Aston Valour being ‘worth’ five times as much as a V12 Vantage is like trying to explain why a first edition is worth more than a reprint. The 110 romantics who’ve signed up are buying into the bespoke coachbuilt factor, and the rarity – it’s 20 times less common than your Beetle GTI anyway. For a car with such understated looks, I think I heard you coming from about Birmingham.

JR: It’s literally impossible to not let this thing rip. I’m very much seeing it as a GT3 RS with the wing removed and a six-speed manual inserted and driving it as such, but I suppose you could view it as a GT3 Touring with ’roid rage. Either way, it’s a car Andreas Preuninger, the man with his fingerprints on every god-spec GT Porsche for the past 23 years, has branded the best road car he’s ever driven.

Words: Jack Rix & Ollie Kew
Photography: Mark Fagelson

OK: And he would say that, wouldn’t he? And I’d love to be all contrarian and say it’s just a GT3 Touring with dented doors, but it’s life affirmingly, head-swimmingly brilliant. When I drove the S/T on the launch last year, Andy P unashamedly admitted that the previous ‘purist’s special’ 911 – the R – was in his learned opinion a bit of a rush job and he really fancied another go with shorter gearing and no pesky rear steer. But there’s no escaping the fact your gearlever is plastic, not billet meets walnut. How’s the all important shift?

JR: Chodey. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a stubbier lever than this, which means you can rest your arm and do it all in the wrist – like a joystick – whereas the Valour’s wooden staff requires shoulders and lats. Just as well really, because the shorter final drive ratio keeps your left hand busy, although it should be said that wringing third gear to its 9,000rpm conclusion will still take you to well over 90mph, apparently.

The engine is a graunchy bag of spanners at idle, but smooths as it tears through the mid-range, then bursts into song beyond 7,000rpm. Perhaps my favourite part is it only has 518bhp, which is merely warm-ish in the world of supercars this competes, and yet it never feels anything other than the perfect serving of power metered out in the most thrilling way possible. There’s a lighter flywheel which helps with that (and a clutch that’s half the weight of a GT3 Touring’s) but zero drive modes (although you can firm up the dampers) and no loud exhaust button – it’s just a craft brew 911 that’s set up perfectly out of the box. To me, a lack of modes and settings always speaks of engineering confidence.

OK: I’m still not convinced you’ve not secretly activated the cheaty auto blip whenever you’re out in front. I’ve been listening hard over the Valour’s burble and your downshifts are suspiciously perfect.

JR: That’s all Jack, no algorithm. What can I say? Some of us are just born gifted. I’ve been carefully limbering up my right ankle like a goal hungry Jude Bellingham all week just for this.

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OK: Phew, I thought you were walking funny because you just really liked the S/T. Anyway I have to concede something. Yes, both these cars celebrate the joys of stripped back, no frills, all-driver motoring, but the masterpiece of an engine in the 911 is better suited to all that than the Aston’s bi-turbo V12. I’m glad that 12 cylinders live on, but every time your throttle response catches me off guard the Porsche puts three lengths on the Aston Martin. Mind you, when the V12 wipes the sleep out of its eyes it genuinely feels like the Valour might chomp up behind the Porsche and swallow its shrieking backside whole.

JR: With the turbos spooled that Aston V12 is a rush of torque that the 911 just can’t live with. It’s so flipping fast – must have been fun in the rain this morning?

OK: Didn’t find full throttle until lunchtime. And it feels simply enormous on the road, constantly slapping cats eyes. But because a big, brutish, swaggering front-mounted V12 coupe feels bang in Aston’s comfort zone, you don’t feel the need to ‘attack’ as much as in the racy Porsche. Plus, the Valour can still schlep the GT schlep – would you prefer to head back home in the Porsche? I’ve heard less rolling road noise from a trolley jack.

JR: True, but there’s an irony in the fact the Aston has so much twist you could basically leave it in fourth and surf around here quite happily, entirely negating the need for a manual... although that wooden gearlever does look wonderful, I’m a fan of the girth. As for schlepping home, yes you feel a lot lower to the road in the 911 and more harassed by the road noise, but slip it into sixth, cruise control on, it can play the GT too... just not as well as the Aston.

OK: What I particularly enjoy about both is that – in an ideal world away from SUVs, profit margins, stockholders, market share and platform sharing – they would be the only cars Aston Martin and Porsche would build. From England, a swaggering million quid muscle car with a clipped accent in a designer suit. From Germany, a backside engined racecar with numberplates engineered to perfection and punching massively above its weight. And you can feel that enthusiasm fizzing from within when you shift gears in either.

JR: If we’ve learned anything here today it’s that old school rules. If you like driving you want burbly idles and shrieking top ends, things to do behind the wheel, a sense of mechanical processes being controlled by your own hands, not computers. And that doesn’t only apply to the mechanics or the handling, even the exterior styling and upholstery carry more weight with a bit of retro in the mix. Still can’t excuse your tweed ensemble though – you look like the odd one out on the dancefloor at a Young Farmers’ end of harvest ball.

OK: Knew you’d be jealous, so I’ve generously grabbed some quality attire so you too can match the image projected by your car. A genuine merchandise Porsche Motorsport hat. Ought to keep the sun out of your eyes at the next paint to sample Bores ’n’ Coffee meetup.

JR: I’m sad, but not that sad. Yes, the Porsche is beyond brilliant and the Valour’s price tag is impossible to rationalise, but let’s look at the bigger picture here. Isn’t it wonderful that more and more manufacturers ‘get it’ – that we don’t need great gobs of extra, largely unusable, power. That the way a car makes you feel – through its unique personality, and the conversation you can have with it – is what counts. Long live the crazy engine/manual gearbox combo... the future’s bright, the future’s actually the past.

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Ollie Kew: After decades of flappy paddles, DSGs, PDKs and DCTs, the manual is now sexy and coveted. Shorthand for ‘connoisseur’. A centrepiece in the Valour, and in the GMA T.50, the Pagani Utopia and Koenigsegg CC850, the simple pleasure of changing gear is back. Just seems a shame that you have to pay a million quid to get started...

Jack Rix: Au contraire mon frère! Here at Top Gear we’re all too aware of the lingering cost of living crisis, how hard it can be to make ends meet, which is why I’ve brought along a bargain basement alternative to the ludicrously expensive Valour. A salve to the wallets of all those who crave good old fashioned analogue interaction with their motor vehicles. I give you the keenly priced Porsche 911 S/T – list price £231,600, long since sold out of course, but lightly used examples are available... for upwards of £450,000.

OK: You martyr, bringing that all the way over to Wales. Thing is, trying to make a rational case for the Aston Valour being ‘worth’ five times as much as a V12 Vantage is like trying to explain why a first edition is worth more than a reprint. The 110 romantics who’ve signed up are buying into the bespoke coachbuilt factor, and the rarity – it’s 20 times less common than your Beetle GTI anyway. For a car with such understated looks, I think I heard you coming from about Birmingham.

JR: It’s literally impossible to not let this thing rip. I’m very much seeing it as a GT3 RS with the wing removed and a six-speed manual inserted and driving it as such, but I suppose you could view it as a GT3 Touring with ’roid rage. Either way, it’s a car Andreas Preuninger, the man with his fingerprints on every god-spec GT Porsche for the past 23 years, has branded the best road car he’s ever driven.

Words: Jack Rix & Ollie Kew
Photography: Mark Fagelson

OK: And he would say that, wouldn’t he? And I’d love to be all contrarian and say it’s just a GT3 Touring with dented doors, but it’s life affirmingly, head-swimmingly brilliant. When I drove the S/T on the launch last year, Andy P unashamedly admitted that the previous ‘purist’s special’ 911 – the R – was in his learned opinion a bit of a rush job and he really fancied another go with shorter gearing and no pesky rear steer. But there’s no escaping the fact your gearlever is plastic, not billet meets walnut. How’s the all important shift?

JR: Chodey. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a stubbier lever than this, which means you can rest your arm and do it all in the wrist – like a joystick – whereas the Valour’s wooden staff requires shoulders and lats. Just as well really, because the shorter final drive ratio keeps your left hand busy, although it should be said that wringing third gear to its 9,000rpm conclusion will still take you to well over 90mph, apparently.

The engine is a graunchy bag of spanners at idle, but smooths as it tears through the mid-range, then bursts into song beyond 7,000rpm. Perhaps my favourite part is it only has 518bhp, which is merely warm-ish in the world of supercars this competes, and yet it never feels anything other than the perfect serving of power metered out in the most thrilling way possible. There’s a lighter flywheel which helps with that (and a clutch that’s half the weight of a GT3 Touring’s) but zero drive modes (although you can firm up the dampers) and no loud exhaust button – it’s just a craft brew 911 that’s set up perfectly out of the box. To me, a lack of modes and settings always speaks of engineering confidence.

OK: I’m still not convinced you’ve not secretly activated the cheaty auto blip whenever you’re out in front. I’ve been listening hard over the Valour’s burble and your downshifts are suspiciously perfect.

JR: That’s all Jack, no algorithm. What can I say? Some of us are just born gifted. I’ve been carefully limbering up my right ankle like a goal hungry Jude Bellingham all week just for this.

OK: Phew, I thought you were walking funny because you just really liked the S/T. Anyway I have to concede something. Yes, both these cars celebrate the joys of stripped back, no frills, all-driver motoring, but the masterpiece of an engine in the 911 is better suited to all that than the Aston’s bi-turbo V12. I’m glad that 12 cylinders live on, but every time your throttle response catches me off guard the Porsche puts three lengths on the Aston Martin. Mind you, when the V12 wipes the sleep out of its eyes it genuinely feels like the Valour might chomp up behind the Porsche and swallow its shrieking backside whole.

JR: With the turbos spooled that Aston V12 is a rush of torque that the 911 just can’t live with. It’s so flipping fast – must have been fun in the rain this morning?

OK: Didn’t find full throttle until lunchtime. And it feels simply enormous on the road, constantly slapping cats eyes. But because a big, brutish, swaggering front-mounted V12 coupe feels bang in Aston’s comfort zone, you don’t feel the need to ‘attack’ as much as in the racy Porsche. Plus, the Valour can still schlep the GT schlep – would you prefer to head back home in the Porsche? I’ve heard less rolling road noise from a trolley jack.

JR: True, but there’s an irony in the fact the Aston has so much twist you could basically leave it in fourth and surf around here quite happily, entirely negating the need for a manual... although that wooden gearlever does look wonderful, I’m a fan of the girth. As for schlepping home, yes you feel a lot lower to the road in the 911 and more harassed by the road noise, but slip it into sixth, cruise control on, it can play the GT too... just not as well as the Aston.

OK: What I particularly enjoy about both is that – in an ideal world away from SUVs, profit margins, stockholders, market share and platform sharing – they would be the only cars Aston Martin and Porsche would build. From England, a swaggering million quid muscle car with a clipped accent in a designer suit. From Germany, a backside engined racecar with numberplates engineered to perfection and punching massively above its weight. And you can feel that enthusiasm fizzing from within when you shift gears in either.

JR: If we’ve learned anything here today it’s that old school rules. If you like driving you want burbly idles and shrieking top ends, things to do behind the wheel, a sense of mechanical processes being controlled by your own hands, not computers. And that doesn’t only apply to the mechanics or the handling, even the exterior styling and upholstery carry more weight with a bit of retro in the mix. Still can’t excuse your tweed ensemble though – you look like the odd one out on the dancefloor at a Young Farmers’ end of harvest ball.

OK: Knew you’d be jealous, so I’ve generously grabbed some quality attire so you too can match the image projected by your car. A genuine merchandise Porsche Motorsport hat. Ought to keep the sun out of your eyes at the next paint to sample Bores ’n’ Coffee meetup.

JR: I’m sad, but not that sad. Yes, the Porsche is beyond brilliant and the Valour’s price tag is impossible to rationalise, but let’s look at the bigger picture here. Isn’t it wonderful that more and more manufacturers ‘get it’ – that we don’t need great gobs of extra, largely unusable, power. That the way a car makes you feel – through its unique personality, and the conversation you can have with it – is what counts. Long live the crazy engine/manual gearbox combo... the future’s bright, the future’s actually the past.

17 minutes 49 seconds

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The manual transmission is becoming a rarefied configuration, but can some old school traditions defy conventional progression?