SHE SAYS...

For this type, money is not a means to an end, it is the end in itself. Cars are not machines for getting from A to B, they are objects to be admired and coveted.

Look at James Bond, the cars he drives and the chicks he attracts. Bond girls are always one of two kinds. Either a bimbo, swooning in his presence or a two-faced, evil bitch who tries to kill him after having sex with him. Not that he is averse to doing the same. The only difference is that Bond has a witty one liner to go with the bullet to the back of the skull. Something like: "Didn't I say you were drop-dead gorgeous?"

Bond girls are always of the straightforward, simple variety. The minute they get complicated, he kills them. And it is this simple kind of girl that falls head over heels for a swish car.

Not wanting to be that simple kind of girl, I approached my brief encounter with the Aston Martin V8 Vantage with an element of restraint. I was determined not to swoon, not to do girly bunny-hops of excitement accompanied by squeals of delight, and not to let my head flood with expletives and eulogies.

So much for me. Everyone else who happened to be around the car as I drove it out of the parking lot and down the road gawked and gasped at the elegant lines that swept back from the iconic, signature Aston Martin grille.

My value automatically went up in the eyes of strangers who didn't know that I was driving this rather magnificent machine for review purposes.

Nonchalantly, I depressed the flush sitting, lever-style door handles, a nice little design touch that keeps the sculptured lines of the Aston's flank uninterrupted. It's an impressive design detail, like the badge crafted by a jeweller, the crystalline glass, stainless steel and polycarbonate "key" which glows red on ignition, and the subtle red stitching on the leather-clad interior. The inside of the car is all understated, hand-crafted class.

My aloofness was a bit more difficult to maintain on the road. Tap the "D" for drive button that sits high up on the dash, put your foot down and you can feel the pent-up energy of the car like a chained beast straining to be unleashed. The gearbox is clunky and you can feel the mechanics as they move into place. As the car goes through its gears, it creates an otherworldly sound. It's all fire and brimstone, a thoroughbred aching to get into the winning straight, and when you hear it coming, you had better get out of the way.

The steering is heavy, as are the brakes, and consequently, the car feels nice and solid. Don't attempt any steep driveways because you're guaranteed to scrape the very low body, but I was quite happy to put up with this minor inconvenience because its low- slung design looked so spectacular.

As a symbol of wealth and extravagance shrouded in understated British style, you can't do better than an Aston Martin. No wonder it's the car synonymous with James Bond, even though he's driven a range of others.

Despite all efforts, the Aston Martin V8 Vantage is difficult not to fall for. It's undeniably drop-dead gorgeous.

The Ratings

Practicality: 2/10

It has a boot, but you'll struggle to get more than one or two overnight bags in.

Petrolhead-kudos: 10/10

It's an Aston Martin, which means it oozes racing pedigree from every metal pore.

Carbon footprint: 2/10

Let's just say you don't buy a V8 Vantage to reduce your carbon footprint.

Value for money: 7/10

It's mighty pricy, but those looks are worth every cent.

Pump damage:

If you travel an average of 1200km a month, you'll have to fork out about R1211.