If the design doesn’t do it for you, then the baritone bark of the V12 will. Its reflection shimmers and sparkles in glass-fronted shop windows, like a hooked fish just breaking the surface of the water before it’s plucked from a river, and we make progress with a relaxed gait, the soft throttle, ample torque and easy steering prohibiting any stress invading the Liberace-inspired cabin. Is there a better-looking car on sale? Maybe the Vanquish coupe, but the Volante’s lack of a roof draws your eyes to the hunched rear deck that sweeps out from under the rear spoiler, and emphasises how the taut bodywork overhangs the carbon side sills, like sculpted obliques rather than bulging muffin tops. Whatever your orientation you’ll find the Vanquish Volante irresistible, from the cleft lip of carbonfibre that forms the front splitter through to the detailing in the rear lights that apes the be-winged Aston badge. The Skyfall Silver paint glistens and gleams as we’re gently fried by the rich Californian sun, and between the boudoir palette of the opulent leather interior and the 26-foot statue of gay icon Marilyn Monroe on Palm Canyon Drive, photographer Greg Pajo and I could be any of the hundreds of couples in town for the Palm Springs Pride LGBT Festival. The streets are wide, the palm trees are tall, the Aston goes topless in 14 seconds, and whether the triple-layered fabric roof is up or down, it doesn’t affect boot space (which is 50% larger than that of the DBS Volante it replaces) or rear seat space (which remains 50% less than any human needs to be comfortable). With even Michael Fish worried about an impending storm in the UK, I know where I’d rather be. Despite it being late October it’s past 90☏ before we’ve had a chance to explain to the waitress that fried potatoes don’t belong at the breakfast table, and with speed limits lower than the self-esteem of a washed-up Hollywood celeb, it’s all about cruising through this desert oasis.
Palm Springs is perfect Vanquish Volante territory.
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