Backseat Driver – Bentley Bentayga EWB Azure Review

Can a two and a half tonne luxury SUV really be a drivers’ car? Alex assesses the Bentley Bentayga EWB Azure’s claim from both the front and back seats.

You’re probably wondering what a publication like Rush is doing writing an article about a 2.5-tonne luxury SUV. Well, it’s because this is a driver’s car. Hear me out; a driver’s car firmly falls into one of two categories. The first is a car that makes you want to drive it, and the second is a car that’s meant for a driver – the gloves and a hat, “call you sir/madam” type.

Bentley has a long-standing tradition of building vehicles that are a blend of performance and craftsmanship. Founder W. O. Bentley once said, “We were going to make a fast car, a good car, the best in its class,” and he meant it. You don’t win Le Mans four times on the bounce (1927-1930) with just any old machinery. In recent years, Bentley has continued that mantra by building lavish luxury vehicles that remain driver-focused, with mainstays like the Continental GT and the Speed model lines. Market forces inevitably meant an SUV had to appear in the line-up, hence the Bentayga – a car said to be “a go-anywhere SUV that offers the ultimate in power, luxury, and usability.”

First impressions of our EWB Azure spec Bentayga test car are that they have certainly nailed the craftsmanship, but I can’t initially see it as a driver’s car. Opening the soft-close door releases a waft of leather and wood that triggers immediate bickering between Craig and me as we fight for a seat in the rear instead of at the helm. You can’t help but want to be driven, but since I’ve programmed the suggested route into the satnav, it’s only right that my “driver,” as he shall now be called, takes the wheel.

From the backseat, I can immediately tell you that, even with my 6’4” “freakishly large frame” – thanks, driver – there is more legroom than I’ve ever experienced in anything that moves. The extra space comes from stretching the wheelbase by 180mm. What this translates to is the ability to recline, cross my legs, do a merry little jig, or hold a small board meeting—it’s cavernous.

Then there’s the leather. So much leather. It’s smooth, soft, smells good, and my lord, is it comfortable. The rear airline seats are infinitely adjustable, with cushioning that’s both supportive and squishy. Diving into the central control panel, which is of course removable, I set my seat to the fully reclined position and deploy the front seat’s drop-down footrest. I didn’t think you could be more comfortable.

That is, until I discover the myriad of “wellness” massage settings and close the blinds. Now, we are motoring. This all might sound gimmicky, but it just isn’t. You find yourself sitting back, admiring the view, and simply lapping up the experience. It looks after you in ways you can’t even fathom. Not only is the seat automatically adjusting my posture, but it’s also keeping me at an optimal temperature. I think I’m going to claim squatter’s rights in here; I have zero interest in driving. Why buy a dog and bark yourself, eh?

Unfortunately, my driver is insistent on exploring its dynamic potential, and after adjusting my seat back to the business setting, I allow him to indulge. He’s been informed that his bonus will be curtailed this year if we don’t dispatch anything that gets in our way—be it a tractor, slow-moving commuter, or a bunch of those damn pesky trade unionists.

Even from the rear, I can feel the ride and handling are remarkable for something that weighs this much. It can breathe with even the worst of British roads in comfort, yet in sport, it tightens up and gives you a connection to the road that’s up there with the most sporting of hot hatches. At this point, I’m not sure which of us is having a better time. I doubt anything with an extended wheelbase has ever been driven so sportingly, or anyone has had such a vigorous massage at such speed, but who cares? It’s what W. O. would have wanted.

After 45 minutes of postural massaging and my driver making genuinely brisk cross-country progress, he resigns his duty and tells me it’s my turn. Yes, even the wealthiest of industrialists sometimes have to rough it, and it seems my time is up. The bubble has burst, and I’m back to the reality that my net worth doesn’t resemble a phone number. A brief detour into a service station car park and we switch over. The sumptuous leather immediately corrupts Craig, who offendedly asks, “Mr Dunlop, why haven’t you closed my door?” He is swiftly instructed to close his own door using the button on the centre console—a neat feature which no doubt is handy for those of you with disobedient chauffeurs.

It takes a short stroll to get from the rear to the front of this car, and its 5.3-metre length is very apparent from the outside. It’s imposing, but not vulgar. The body has a blend of muscular lines and subtle curves that work well on something this large. To my eyes, the EWB is a much more resolved design that works well, especially in the suitably opulent Cricket Ball Satin finish.

From the driver’s seat, you’d be hard-pressed to tell the gargantuan dimensions of what you are piloting, but once you’ve got comfy and moved off, you immediately become accustomed to it. The SUV body style gives you that commanding driving position that so many crave. The visibility is good, and in combination with a full suite of driver aids, makes the EWB friendly and approachable.

The four-wheel steering is a game changer, shortening the wheelbase in tight parking manoeuvres and at low speeds, meaning that this dreadnought can be quite agile if needed. Pottering around in comfort mode is completely relaxing. The V8 is a buttery-smooth unit that never feels stressed, and the 8-speed auto helps move you down the road with no drama. Your hand placement naturally falls into place, and you begin to think, why do I need a driver again?

Craig has kindly lined up a section of average speed-monitored dual carriageway to begin my drive. Usually, these sections of road are hellishly boring and frustrating, with traffic never quite managing to hold a regular speed. Flick radar cruise on, set it to 52mph, and you need not worry. The system handles the speed, and the sheer sight of an EWB Bentayga with a driver and rear seat passenger seems to calm surrounding cars right down. I’m relaxed, Craig’s relaxed, and His Majesty’s government won’t be making any money out of this bit of road.

A turn off from the dual carriageways grants me a view of some better roads, which means it’s time to repay the favour to my passenger. A twist of the mode switch into sport and a tug of the gear lever into manual, and we’re away. This process just feels so wrong in something so regal, but honestly, it’s very Bentley. This really is a have-your-cake-and-eat-it type of car – just make sure you use a suitable pastry fork and a tea plate, dear.

Allegedly, this car can hit 180mph and do 0-62mph in 4.6 seconds. You might find that hard to believe until you dip into the vast reserves of power and torque it has. Mashing the throttle pedal brings a minor delay of “Are you sure, sir?” but before you repeat yourself with an assertive tone, it’s off down the road. Surging through the gears, it doesn’t feel that fast until you look down and realise that progress is most certainly being made. Acceleration is comparable to an A380, with the front rising, the rear squatting, and speed increasing at a rate of knots that is hard to fathom. Overtakes are handled easily, and it seems that nothing will encumber your journey. This is the type of performance I’m looking for in a Bentley, and boy does it deliver.

Its 4.0 V8 emits a powerful “whoofle” that isn’t thunderous in tone but instead has a reserved rumble. It’s fair to say that 542bhp has never sounded so classy – none of that parpy farting nonsense, just pure blue-blooded muscle. When the time comes to stop enjoying its aural delights, it’s clear the brakes are as powerful as they are massive. Although the pedal lacks some firmness, there is good feedback, which gives you the confidence to modulate and bring the speed down in a controlled manner. Stability under harsh acceleration or braking is confidence-inspiring; you have a sense that the tarmac is being politely told how to do its job as the EWB muscles it into shape.

Momentum is the overwhelming feeling when you’re driving quickly. The performance is stout, and the chassis handles both it and the undulations of the average B road well. You’re not aware of how hard the car is working until you encounter particularly bad potholes or badly broken surfaces. There’s a firm edge and some shimmy to the primary ride, but in any other car, these roads would be simply ruinous.

The secondary ride is the real star of the show as it collects the car up and settles it with zero drama. Body roll isn’t a problem either; Bentley’s active roll control stops the EWB from grinding its door handles along the tarmac and instead keeps it level and dignified. How on earth is it so poised? I don’t know, but nor do I care – I’ll just keep enjoying it.

There’s a clear distinction in the car’s character across its various modes. Comfort mode relaxes the car and gives it the smooth ride, gentle step-off, and quiet ambiance you would want from your luxury car. Bentley mode is a halfway house where everything is set just so – nothing untoward and a perfect all-rounder. Sport mode tightens everything up and brings out a side of the car that you wouldn’t expect, offering a responsive powertrain, taut chassis, and heavier steering. All three modes have their place. If you’re a rear-seat passenger, you’ll want comfort, but if you’re really wanting to drive, I’d recommend Bentley mode. Sport can feel a little too much on some rough roads, but it’s well worth experiencing when you can.

In a world where SUVs have become all too focused on performance, the Bentayga EWB is a luxury-first approach with all the performance in reserve. This car is an Urus that drinks Dubonnet, a Cayenne that’s had elocution lessons, a Cullinan that made the lacrosse team. It’s all comfort and luxury until you dial everything to sport, and it picks up its skirt and runs with the best of them – a true Bentley in every sense of the word.

From the back seat, it’s a spa-cum-corner sofa with a V8 and twin turbos. From the driver’s seat, it’s a momentous occasion in every sense of the word. A sporting land yacht that will let your chauffeur have more holidays. But I bet that when they get back home, you’ll both fight over the keys.

A Day Out at the Porsche Experience Centre Silverstone

For the cost of the average track day, Porsche UK offer the use of one of their cars and 90 minutes of one-to-one expert track tuition at their Silverstone experience centre. As Alex Dunlop finds out, it’s a great way to get to know a 911, and improve your car control.

Chances are that if you’re inflicted with the great petrolhead disease you have probably been gifted a supercar experience day, you know where you get to drive some clapped-out exotic in 4th gear at 60mph around an airfield. They are disappointingly naff but you still have to grin and pretend it’s the best experience of your life. The Porsche Experience is not that, it’s petrolhead nirvana.

The enjoyment starts with buying the experience, you can pick pretty much any car in the current Porsche line-up as well as some more specialist experiences in some of the previous generations including cars like the 997 4.0 RS and 911R. I had agonised over what car to choose but I settled on a 911 Carrera T, a sweet spot in the 911 range that wouldn’t corrupt me like a Turbo S or a GT3 would. The standard 90-minute course was £325 with a meal included, plus the option to add an additional guest’s meal at checkout. I should note that this experience was purchased with my own money and Porsche did not pay for this.

Arriving on the day you are greeted by an interactive map of the tracks on offer, an airfield this ain’t! It’s a combination of two road-style handling circuits, “the straights” acceleration and braking course, two small low friction tracks on the infield, the “ice hill” and the “kick plate” which offer an extremely low grip surface to simulate snow and ice. There is also an offroad section for the SUVS but for obvious reasons, I wouldn’t be exploring that in a 911.

After sign on and some time spent drooling over the cars inside the centre it was time for a coffee which of course had “911” written in chocolate on the top. Next up was a laid back briefing where an instructor lets you know how the day will run, the various do’s and don’ts and other useful information. Your guests don’t have to sit through any of this, instead they get to sit in the facility and enjoy refreshments as well as views over the centre and Silverstone circuit itself.

My instructor collected me and showed me to my car for the day, a lovely Carrera T with the PDK box. The car was immaculately clean, full of fuel and was wearing a nice fresh set of tyres, Porsche clearly pay attention to the cars condition and it shows. After a brief chat and getting yourself seated in the car correctly you then head out onto the two handling circuits to get used to the car and learn where everything is. Initial impressions are that this facility really has it all and is laid out to maximise both you and the car. So far all I can tell you about the T is that the auto box shifts nicely and the 18 way seats are very comfortable.

The first exercise is a figure of 8, here my instructor asked me to build up speed and get comfortable with how the car stops and goes. They use this to assess your throttle, brake and steering control and to understand how confident you are. After a few runs my instructor was happy with my abilities and directed us onto the small handling circuit. In this exercise I couldn’t really get much of a feel for the T short of telling you that it stops and goes with ease and the auto box responds snappily when you plant the throttle.

I was asked to do a couple of laps at a slower pace then to carry on and drive at a speed I was happy with whilst he assessed my lines. This was my first chance to unleash the T and see what it was all about, my first impression was just how capable and communicative it was, within a couple of laps I was driving at eight tenths and feeling good thanks to the rear end traction inspiring confidence and the chassis goading me to drive harder. My instructor began to ask a few questions about driving fast and assessing how I go about learning a circuit, this was all very encouraging and he began to advise on two corners where if I changed my line I could lap even faster. After 10 more minutes of fast laps with a gradually increased pace the instructor moved us on to the straights for some acceleration and braking tests.

This exercise is used by the instructor to see how good you are at threshold braking and manging traction but also to demonstrate the cars behaviour in the various modes. This section of the day felt seriously abusive, we ran through 10 or so launch control starts followed by a big stop each time. By the final launch we had all systems off and were leaving some lovely elevens and a cloud of smoke as the T fought for traction. Despite being the entry level engine the 3.0 was strong with great low down grunt and power that only trailed off at the very top of the rev range, thanks to the T’s reduced sound deadening it also sounded glorious with that characteristic flat 6 howl.

Another thing to highlight was brake pedal feel, you could always get the exact amount of deceleration you needed and the pedal never went soft, great initial bite and progressive feel is just what you need for this exercise. My instructor was confident in my control of the car so threw a couple of curve balls in, firstly I should launch the car and accelerate until he shouts “brake” upon which I take my hands off the wheel and stop the car, yeah that was a spicy one that I wouldn’t like to repeat. The second was to launch, accelerate then when he shouts “brake” I should change lanes whilst braking. We survived both of these and had a little chuckle about how capable the car’s systems are, try that in a 930 911 and you’d be in the nearest hedge.

The next exercise took us to the larger handling circuit where again I was asked to build up speed and my instructor would check my lines and offer advice. This larger circuit feels like the best road you’ve ever been on, a mix of high speed well sighted corners, blind crests and big cambers, I could have driven it all day. Particularly as on this circuit the T really shone, trail braking would tuck the nose in nicely and you could feel the steering weight change from corner entry to corner exit as the rear engine weight transfer occurred.

One specific uphill right hander Is where you could feel the 911-ness with the nose going slightly light as it just pushed to understeer, it’s a magical feeling that no other car possesses. Again my instructor showed me a couple of lines that I could take to really maximise my corner entry speeds but overall he was happy. I must admit that now I really was pushing close to my full ability and we both shot a wry smile as we slipped past and lapped both a Carrera 4S and a 991 GT3 RS, by this point the tyres were getting a little squishy so we moved onto the low friction ice hill.

My instructor was impressed with my control on the dry road surfaces but now he wanted to assess what I could do when the grip was all gone. The ice hill is a 7 degree slope of low friction surface covered in water that offers the same experience as a snowy and icy road or roughly translated, sod all grip. We started with all systems on and the instructor asked me to build up speed and to pin the throttle which demonstrated that the car will always you keep pointing the right way, we continued the exercise with the systems being gradually slackened until everything was off and matting the throttle led to the full 911 pendulum effect and me facing the wrong way. But after a few more attempts I had full control and was preceding up the hill bouncing off the limiter in 2nd, being this brutal feels great when its not your own car. I had control on a straight bit of road but what about some low friction corners? It was time to move on.

The second low friction course is a section of tight corners and a skid pad that’s used to practice controlled sliding, all systems were set back on and the instructor asked me to demonstrate understeer and oversteer before we focused on controlling slides. Now not to toot my own horn but I like to think I’m pretty capable of sliding a car, but a 911 is a whole different animal, beyond a certain point it’s impossible to recover and I was expertly able to demonstrate this on the skid pad. The instructor asked to hold a big doughnut with opposite lock on and control the throttle to keep the slide going. I could kick the car slideways no problem but countering that pendulum effect as such low speeds was impossible, I spent more time going backwards than any other direction with the T resembling a tipsy ballerina as it span wonkily around the concrete.

After 10 minutes or so it started to click and I had now got my head around how you counter that rear engine bias, the solution is to just not lift and always keep a little trailing throttle. Opposite to a front engine rear drive car where you kick sideways, counter steer then balance the throttle, this was more kick, then balance and countersteer in two steps. Once that was nailed I had great fun going round and round in circles whilst holding the car on the lock stops. We moved on to focus on sliding around corners and transitioning from one direction to another which was immense fun but not as fun as the final activity.

The kickplate is described as “a computer-controlled hydraulic plate set flush to the road surface, it is designed to induce loss of rear wheel traction, putting the car into a skid or spin.” In truth, it is an anxiety-inducing torture device. You drive up to it and it will throw the rear of the car randomly to the left or right and it’s your job to catch the slide. Starting out slowly with the systems on it’s a doddle, a small amount of corrective lock with the throttle on and the car shrugs it off. Once you get to about 24mph with all the systems off it’s a little more challenging but unpredictably hilarious fun. After a few runs the instructor asked me to try something different, drive around the kickplate, pull onto the low grip surface and pin the throttle. He clearly wanted to cement my learnings from the many failed doughnuts and I’m pleased to report the muscle memory was there, a lovely 15mph slide whilst the T continued to beat the limiter was executed.

That was officially all the activities done and the rain had now arrived in typical British spring fashion, but as I had some time left the instructor said that we should venture back out onto the larger handling circuit and push the car in the rain. That sort of attitude sums up the whole experience, the instructors want to push you whilst demonstrating what the cars can do. With this weather came the chance to explore the T’s behaviour in a different scenario, just as it was in the dry the T was unburst-able, the reduced grip meant that it moved around a little more but I still had the confidence to continue to push on. The rear engine traction really became noticeable as did the overall balance, the T is incredibly well calibrated and feels like it has just the right amount of everything, even when its pouring with rain and temperatures are in single figures.

Once the experience was done it was back into the facility for a coffee and a debrief before having an afternoon tea that was booked as part of my 13:30-15:00 experience time. The refreshments on offer and the facilities are brilliant and much better than the watery coffee and a Portaloo that most of those other experiences offer. The whole day was typical Porsche, it was brilliantly well done and thought out from start to finish. I’m firmly of the opinion that this is something that everyone should do, even if you have no interest in Porsches or cars. The driving skills they teach are invaluable and getting to learn them whilst driving a sportscar is the cherry on top, I’m certainly going back, maybe it’s time to be corrupted by a Turbo S or should I go all out and book a 911 R…