I am sat in a bothy on top of a Scottish mountain, sharing a dram of whisky with a Scotsman called Donald. Donald is wearing a kilt and has a dagger sticking out of his sock. Outside, perched forlornly on the cliffside as wind and rain charge headlong against it, sits the UK’s first Evoque, mud and grass and something that looks suspiciously like a mountain hare adorning its flanks. I am a little uncomfortable.
Not because of the weather, or Donald and his kilt, or because until 10 minutes ago I believed a bothy to be a thick meaty stew. The reason I’m uncomfortable is that, having wrung the Evoque down a Scottish B-road and then straight up the side of this muddy, waterlogged mountain, I have that insidious feeling I’ve got things wrong.
Words: Sam Philip
Photos: Paul Barshon
This feature was originally published in the August 2011 issue of Top Gear magazine