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EXCITING TRIP On the Aston Martin DBR9

James Bond is something all men would like to be. Who wouldn’t, with the fine dining, beautiful women and cool gadgets — not to mention the cars? James Bond has traditionally driven Aston Martins, and that makes them Oh! so desirable.

Racing cars of any sort are at the top of car enthusiasts’ lists, and who in their right minds would give up the opportunity to take a ride in an Aston Martin race car? My ride was in the Aston Martin DBR9. Eat that, James Bond!

At the wheel was Darren Turner, a swashbuckling driver who’s already tasted success at Le Mans, winning the GT1 category in 2007, driving the same car.

“Tap my arm if I’m going too fast for you,” he says. Right!

Getting into the car was a contortionist’s nightmare to begin with, but once I’d slid into the racing bucket, it was quite comfortable. With a four-point harness strapped tight and a place to brace my right leg, I was all set to go. Trundling down the pitlane on the limiter, I could feel the heat of the engine on my shins.

The noise inside the cabin was more than I had imagined, and the view of the front was rather limited.

Exiting the pit lane, Darren buried his foot and the DBR9 surged forward. It was brisk yes, but it didn’t quite take off like I thought it would. Must be the weight penalty of me in the car!

The sequential gearbox sounded like an old big-bore rifle going off, and with each upshift the big Aston gathered more pace. “We’re running a high downforce setting on this one,” informed Darren on the top of his lungs. High downforce equates to more grip in corners, but the trade-off is increased drag on the straights.

Paul Ricard is a state-of-the-art testing facility, and takes more than a little pride in calling itself a High Tech Test Track. It is owned by Bernie Ecclestone, and has a million features that make it unique. The track itself has over a 100 different combinations, but of particular interest to Aston Martin is the 1.8 km-long back straight.

Which is where we were on the track. Darren snatched sixth as we scudded along. 250, 256, 261…the digital readout on the steering wheel flickered between 273/274kph as I sighted ahead for the corner. The braking markers flashed past on our left: 250m, 200m (“I think he’ll brake now”), 150m (“Darren, the corner”), 100m (“Ok, this is so not funny”).

Washing out on Ricard isn’t altogether scary, for this is the most sanitised circuit in the world, with wide run-offs, and the Armco is a mile away. The blue zones and red zones promise to slow you to a near stop before you make the Armco. And then, wham! Darren stood on the middle pedal and four ceramic brakes the size of Africa retarded the OZ wheels with a ferocity I have never experienced. The Michelin slicks hung on like a junkie to a dealer handing out freebies. Darren tickled the throttle as he flicked the car right then left, using ample kerb on the exits.

So spellbound was I by the sheer grip of the thing, I paid little thought to my anatomy as it rearranged itself, and my vertebrae shuffled up and down my spine. We did this a few times over before heading into the pitlane, and I wanted to whoop as we slowed to a stop.

Later that afternoon, in a pleasantly informal PR exercise, Darren spoke about his career. He was a relatively late starter, and at one point did harbour F1 dreams, before trying his hand at sports cars, a discipline in which he’s since risen to the top. “I love Le Mans. It’s one of the classic races, and the atmosphere is just fantastic. It really brings out the best in a driver, and you really need to concentrate hard. It carries on from an era when motor racing was dangerous and sex was safe.”

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