Looks, no modern electric interferance
Slow screens, cramped rear seats
The name is Bond, James Bond. I don’t know how many times I’ve told myself this throughout the day. It came to me naturally as I kept reading the name on the steering wheel: Aston Martin. The beautiful DB12 roaring away through the quiet Sunday afternoon in Mumbai, with people watching this piece of art roll down the streets, jaws open, phones out, and confused looks because they've hardly ever seen an Aston on the road.
It’s rare, it’s exclusive, and it’s unapologetic. The DB12 is Aston’s newest tourer, replacing the DB11 with all things modern, including a greener, smaller V8 engine instead of a V12. Ah, well, the drama through the exhaust pipes is out, but the power through the wheels, that’s up. Thirty-seven percent more torque, and that increment comes within one generation change. Surely then, the downsizing can’t be that bad.
It might not ride as softly as the Bentley, but it consumes distances easily. Beyond that, the styling sells the DB12 short. What looks like nothing more than a good facelift conceals a cabin that’s night-and-day better than the old DB11, and dynamics that have given the DB12 newfound athleticism, control, and purpose. This is the most accomplished car I’ve driven in years. Surely, it isn’t the sportiest car in its class, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the best.