The glorious Newmarket Tan leather — a distinctly Hermès orangey-brown — was festooned with enough crosshatching to please Coco Chanel herself. The new, more chiseled three-spoke steering wheel felt alarmingly sportier. The drilled aluminum pedals looked quite boss, and even the new Breitling clock seemed spiffier than mine.
Alas, the GT Speed was just as impressive in motion. I have spent thousands of my happiest miles in my GT — I’ve often told friends that the car’s grace and beauty are what save me from going postal in L.A. traffic. In the Speed, all the grace remains, accented by even more oomph delivered even more quickly and seamlessly.
The ride itself is still fit for royalty, but thanks to improved suspension and damping, you can drive it even more aggressively without shaking its poise. How does Bentley accomplish that? I could give you pages of technical answers, but suffice it to say it’s some expensive magic — and unlike anything else you’ve driven.