But when the road clears and you can push the throttle as far in as your nerve lets you, the hissing disappears and you hear that eight-litre engine itself; deep, loud, imperious and unique, like sixteen rubber mallets beating on a barrel. Driven like this, the Bugatti is shockingly, almost unmanageably fast. It doesn’t matter how often you drive it; its performance never, ever begins to feel remotely normal. If you think you can detect the 0.2 second deficit in the Grand Sport’s initial acceleration, you’re a neurological marvel. Instead the open car feels faster because it sounds so much better. And if you can find a stretch of road long and straight enough to let the drumming continue you’ll find that the absurd acceleration doesn’t begin to relent until you’re well beyond 350km/ h. I know. I tried it.
In truth, Bugatti doesn’t need to justify the extra cost of the Grand Sport because its price, power and performance mean it just doesn’t compete with other cars. Only 150 will be made, in addition to 300 Veyrons. Deliveries have just begun, and Bugatti estimates that there are only between 3000 and 6000 people in the world with both sufficient means and enthusiasm to buy one. Bugatti’s people like to say that the last thing their customers need is another car; on average, they already own thirty apiece and are more likely to be deciding between the Grand Sport and a racehorse, helicopter or yacht than another hypercar. So when a car is so dominated by its engine, and when one of the few criticisms you can make of the standard Veyron is that it sometimes seems too refined and aloof, and when cost is almost irrelevant, paying an extra €200,000 just to be more directly connected to that mighty motor starts to look like a bargain. Did I really just write that?
Truly great design doesn't need much tweaking. The Rolls-Royce Phantom, the first model launched by the brand after it was bought by BMW, has been on sale for eleven years now - an eternity in...
