I will always remember the first glimpse I had of Lake Como. I was coming from Milan and just remember seeing a glint of sunshine bounce off the Lake as I approached. I was fixated on this mammoth lake that consisted of some of the clearest water I had ever seen, cosseted in between the Italian hills.
The grandfather of the segment is the Land Rover Range Rover. Not the Range Rover Sport, not the Velar, not even the Discovery. The full fat, bonnet at shoulder height, wafting armchair that is the Range Rover.
There is sometimes a theme in automotive tests, where, for want of entertainment, a concept is created, one that rarely showcases any usable information on the car in question. ‘We hooked a caravan to the Urus and entered the Harewood Hillclimb’. I mean, what in the hell is that telling the intended purchaser? Unless it’s an Airstream, and the hill climb is actually the Tete de Chien, it’s normally well wide of the mark.
The first generation of Bentley’s Bentayga didn’t do much for me at first. I think my issue was that, as a partner cog in the VAG machine, they should have learnt from Porsche’s mistakes with the straight-up-ugly original Cayenne. Then I had coffee. More specifically, I was sat on a Kensington street sipping my morning cortado, and there sat a Bentayga. Black with the large Mulliner five spoke alloy wheels (thankfully in silver).