YOU may be aware that in various right-on cities around the world residents are allowed to help themselves to a bicycle from a local hub. Then when they've completed their journey, they simply leave it at another hub for someone else. This idea was first tried in the '60s - in Amsterdam, of course - but, naturally, it didn't work very well. Within a month most of the bicycles had been stolen or lobbed into a canal. In 1993, the city of Cambridge released 300 bicycles onto the streets and within days they'd all gone. Fifteen years later the Canadians thought they'd give it a bash. They lost 95% of the stock within a week.
Many other city councils and eco-groups continued to plug away with the idea until someone had a brainwave. People would pay a small deposit to use the bike, as you do with airport trolleys. However, this did little to deter theft as you were in effect buying a bicycle for 10p. Now there are more sophisticated schemes, with members using smart cards and being told they are responsible for the bike until it's returned. This sounds workable, but think for a moment: who wants to join a club where the only benefit is a crappy bicycle?
Sharing works well at children's birthday parties and in the world of prostitution, but vehicles? No. Which is why I was so surprised to find that Aston Martin has adopted a similar scheme. The idea is simple. You buy one of its cars, which then entitles you to use any Aston Martin you find on the street.
Let me explain. I came home the other day in the beautiful new Rapide and, like a good boy, hit the plipper to lock it up. But what the plipper actually did was unlock my wife's Vantage, which was parked nearby. There are only so many frequencies these remote central locking devices can use, so the fact that one would operate two cars is not that remarkable. What was remarkable is that the same key would start both cars. This means that, theoretically, you could buy a second-hand Vantage and simply use its key to drive whatever Aston took your fancy.
Obviously, you'd take the Rapide if you had four people to transport, since this, according to its maker, is the first four-seater Aston. That's not strictly true. The old V8s were four-seaters and so are the DB9 and the DBS. But this, unless you count the old Lagonda, is certainly the first Aston into which four adults can actually fit.
Getting in the back is tricky unless you are made out of Plasticine - the rear doors are quite small - and you are never going to be comfortable back there if you are much over 1.7m. But it is a snuggy place for short-arses to sit, cocooned by the huge leather-trimmed transmission tunnel and various bits of ultra-cool brushed aluminium. It's like being in Terence Conran's head.
Only Terence Conran's head isn't a hatchback and the Rapide is. So you can fold down the back seats, which gives you a boot big enough for a skiing holiday.
That brings me to the big question. Because this is now a big(gish) four-seater hatchback - like, say, the old Fiat Croma - does it mean that some of the Aston magic has gone when you go for a drive?
The simple answer is yes. And no. Drive it normally, on normal, ice-ravaged roads and it feels too firm. Too communicative. You feel every ripple and pimple on the road surface, not so much through your backside but through the steering system. The wheel shimmies and tingles all the time. It could be used easily as a sex toy. But this is annoying, unless you're a girl and you're sitting on it. But there is a cure - you just speed up a bit. When you do that, the car starts to float. It feels light, like a lemon sorbet, and you start to feel the benefit of that ultra-communicative steering system. This is a car that covers ground very quickly and with very little fuss.
And yet it doesn't feel as if it wants to. It has a push-button six-speed auto that is reluctant to change down. For better results you need to use the paddles on the back of the wheel. Then it goes like a fleeing burglar. But even if you do use the paddles, you are still strangely detached from the power of that 5.9l V12. The same engine is used in the DBS and the V12 Vantage, but there's none of the fury that you get from those cars. None of the savagery.
It feels as though the Rapide has been tuned for long-distance cruising, which is fine and probably right for such an elegant four-seater. But that raises the question: why is the steering so direct and shouty? I'm not looking here for a Lincoln Town Car. But neither do I want what we've been given: a full race-spec 911 GT3.
There's more. When you first drop into any Aston, it is like dropping into designer heaven. Everything looks beautiful. But, as is the way with stuff designed by men in black polo-neck sweaters for men in black polo-neck sweaters, it is a bit tricky to use. The seats, for example, can provide warmth or a gentle cooling breeze. That's two seats with two functions each, and that means four buttons. But four buttons would be ugly, so instead you get one, which is beautiful but awfully complicated. So is the Volvo sat nav system, and so is the stereo.
Yes, there are Bang & Olufsen turrets that rise from the dash when you turn it on - magnificent - and the acoustic signature changes when the rear seatbelts are used so the whole car fills with sound rather than just the front. But you try switching from Radio 2 to Radio 4. You need eight fingers like cocktail sticks, four thumbs, your reading glasses and about 10 minutes.
It's funny. In a two-seater Aston we tend to ignore these things. Because we are buying a bespoke car from a small manufacturer, we expect things to be a bit topsy-turvy. And yet in a four-seater Aston they seem to rear out of the ether like an eclipse. A four-seater is built to be practical and sensible; that's its raison d'être. So the silly things, such as the gap between the throttle and brake pedal being too small, become as irritating as turd in a trifle. Things are just as bad in the Maserati Quattroporte. And they're even worse in the Porsche Panamera, which is so hideous to behold that you'd never want to drive past a shop window in case you caught sight of its reflection.
Still, the Aston does have one ace up its sleeve. You may well find when you come out of the office one night that someone else has gone home in it, leaving you with their DB9 or whatever. I think, on balance, you'd be grateful.
Aston Martin has subsequently explained that the same key will open more than one of its demonstrator cars (to allow journalists to jump in and out of different cars at press events). Hmmm. That sounds sensible, but it still doesn't explain why my key opened my wife's car. Let's hope Aston Martin remembers to modify the keys before demonstrators are sold. If you buy an Aston ex-demonstrator, please don't take my wife's run-around - especially if she's in it. - © The Times, London
The Clarksometer
Engine: 5935cc, V12
Power: 350kW @ 6000rpm
Torque: 600Nm @ 5000rpm
Transmission: six-speed auto
Acceleration: 0-100km/h in 5.1sec
Top Speed: 302km/h
Fuel/CO2: 14.86l/100km / 355g/km
Price: From R2.8-million
Available: From April 2010
Clarkson's Verdict: Our favourite sports car has got plump and put on lederhosen
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