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Meet your heroes: the first-gen Aston Martin DBS is grand touring nirvana

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Meet your heroes: the first-gen Aston Martin DBS is grand touring nirvana | Top Gear

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TG has long praised the DBS Volante - now, our staff writer got the chance to find out why

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Meet your heroes: the first-gen Aston Martin DBS is grand touring nirvana

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TG has long praised the DBS Volante - now, our staff writer got the chance to find out why

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TG has long praised the DBS Volante - now, our staff writer got the chance to find out why

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Meet your heroes: the first-gen Aston Martin DBS is grand touring nirvana

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Meet your heroes: the first-gen Aston Martin DBS is grand touring nirvana

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Meet your heroes: the first-gen Aston Martin DBS is grand touring nirvana

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TG has long praised the DBS Volante - now, our staff writer got the chance to find out why

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Back in 2009 teenage me was sat on the living room floor watching Jeremy Clarkson on the Romanian roadtrip referring to the Aston DBS Volante as “one of the two or three best cars in the world”. This is a man I’d seen consistently ripping cars to shreds, and yet here he was showering one with praise. I had to know why.

Fast forward 15 years, I find myself staring at an 8,000-mile concourse winning hard-top example with the £3k see-through fob in my hand.

The lightweight seats are snug but firm. And much softer than I expected from a hunkered down, dialled up version of the DB9 that places a bit more emphasis on finding tenths. The cabin is tactile and easy to operate, the collection of switchgear looks so well maintained I feel nervous with every swipe... as if I might chip away at some of the charm within its retro interior.

With a nervous grin plastered across my face, I slot the fob into the central dash slot, see those infamous words flag up on the driver’s display – ‘power, beauty, soul’ – and hear the 5.9-litre V12 give a mighty shout as it’s coaxed into life. It makes quite the introduction.

Photography: Jonny Fleetwood

I head off, feeling like James Bond in Casino Royale and keeping a watchful eye out for Vesper Lynd laying on the road in just the right place to cause me to barrel roll the DBS.

No sign of her anywhere. Good. I concentrate on the driving. The steering feels heavy but reacts quickly when you really lob it in. It’s far from direct point and shoot, but playful enough.

With 510bhp and 420lb ft at your disposal, 0–62 is dispatched in 4.3 seconds and, given a very long piece of autobahn, the DBS has a vmax of over 190mph. All accessed through a wonderfully analogue six-speed Graziano manual box. The gearlever looks big and bulky, shaped like a Power Ranger’s helmet, but fitting of such a brawny front engined super GT.

Brawny it may be, but the DBS is packed with interesting materials and smart ways to save weight. The bonnet, boot and front wings are all made from carbon fibre (tricky to get a lovely paint lustre on that, but Aston managed). The bonded aluminium chassis was imported from the DB9 but substantially revised, with every setting – springs, roll bars, dampers – entirely bespoke to the DBS. The enormous brakes are carbon ceramic.

The whole experience is intoxicating... the ideal soundtrack for a continental blitz

I genuinely thought the DBS would be brutal and daunting, in reality it was welcoming. Its woofly V12 seemed to embrace me. It felt just how a proper GT should.

And then I understood – the DBS isn’t a scary car. It’s the epitome of grand touring: unlaboured but dramatic, exciting but not terrifying. The DBS reacts positively to every input. You relax into the process of driving, hear the gentle roar transition into an angry, high pitched scream as you cross the mid-range. The whole experience is intoxicating... the ideal soundtrack for a continental blitz.

When the time comes to bring the DBS to a final halt, I get out, take a step back and appreciate the view. Designed by Marek Reichman, it’s one of Gaydon’s greatest shapes. Regardless of where you fix your eyes, something is going on everywhere along that curved, sultry silhouette. There isn’t a bad angle.

In a world where performance carmakers are scrambling desperately to infuse their latest creations with some retro flavour, be that through switching in a manual gearbox or returning to natural aspiration, the DBS feels fully authentic. It comes from a time when big engine plus manual shifter, wrapped up in a sensational looking body, was just how it was done. It was worth the wait.

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Back in 2009 teenage me was sat on the living room floor watching Jeremy Clarkson on the Romanian roadtrip referring to the Aston DBS Volante as “one of the two or three best cars in the world”. This is a man I’d seen consistently ripping cars to shreds, and yet here he was showering one with praise. I had to know why.

Fast forward 15 years, I find myself staring at an 8,000-mile concourse winning hard-top example with the £3k see-through fob in my hand.

The lightweight seats are snug but firm. And much softer than I expected from a hunkered down, dialled up version of the DB9 that places a bit more emphasis on finding tenths. The cabin is tactile and easy to operate, the collection of switchgear looks so well maintained I feel nervous with every swipe... as if I might chip away at some of the charm within its retro interior.

With a nervous grin plastered across my face, I slot the fob into the central dash slot, see those infamous words flag up on the driver’s display – ‘power, beauty, soul’ – and hear the 5.9-litre V12 give a mighty shout as it’s coaxed into life. It makes quite the introduction.

Photography: Jonny Fleetwood

I head off, feeling like James Bond in Casino Royale and keeping a watchful eye out for Vesper Lynd laying on the road in just the right place to cause me to barrel roll the DBS.

No sign of her anywhere. Good. I concentrate on the driving. The steering feels heavy but reacts quickly when you really lob it in. It’s far from direct point and shoot, but playful enough.

With 510bhp and 420lb ft at your disposal, 0–62 is dispatched in 4.3 seconds and, given a very long piece of autobahn, the DBS has a vmax of over 190mph. All accessed through a wonderfully analogue six-speed Graziano manual box. The gearlever looks big and bulky, shaped like a Power Ranger’s helmet, but fitting of such a brawny front engined super GT.

Brawny it may be, but the DBS is packed with interesting materials and smart ways to save weight. The bonnet, boot and front wings are all made from carbon fibre (tricky to get a lovely paint lustre on that, but Aston managed). The bonded aluminium chassis was imported from the DB9 but substantially revised, with every setting – springs, roll bars, dampers – entirely bespoke to the DBS. The enormous brakes are carbon ceramic.

The whole experience is intoxicating... the ideal soundtrack for a continental blitz

I genuinely thought the DBS would be brutal and daunting, in reality it was welcoming. Its woofly V12 seemed to embrace me. It felt just how a proper GT should.

And then I understood – the DBS isn’t a scary car. It’s the epitome of grand touring: unlaboured but dramatic, exciting but not terrifying. The DBS reacts positively to every input. You relax into the process of driving, hear the gentle roar transition into an angry, high pitched scream as you cross the mid-range. The whole experience is intoxicating... the ideal soundtrack for a continental blitz.

When the time comes to bring the DBS to a final halt, I get out, take a step back and appreciate the view. Designed by Marek Reichman, it’s one of Gaydon’s greatest shapes. Regardless of where you fix your eyes, something is going on everywhere along that curved, sultry silhouette. There isn’t a bad angle.

In a world where performance carmakers are scrambling desperately to infuse their latest creations with some retro flavour, be that through switching in a manual gearbox or returning to natural aspiration, the DBS feels fully authentic. It comes from a time when big engine plus manual shifter, wrapped up in a sensational looking body, was just how it was done. It was worth the wait.

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TG has long praised the DBS Volante - now, our staff writer got the chance to find out why