Aston Martin Vantage

I had three Aston Martins to drive. I know the way I worded that opener that I may have made it sound like a bit of a hardship. It wasn't really as the experience was Christmas present from Heather, my wife. So what better way to spend an hour or so on an airfield on a Saturday morning in the heart of the Oxfordshire countryside releasing my inner James Bond?

The first drive was in a 1975 Aston Martin Vantage.

As I walked towards the car with the instructor I could see its distinctive bodywork was in pretty good nick for a fifty year old car. The interior belied the car's years with worn upholstery, analogue instruments and just a general ambience that is only generated by countless miles.

The company that runs these driving experiences disables the speedometer and the mileometer so drivers have no idea of their speed.

None of this mattered. This car was going to be the first Aston Martin I would drive. It was going to be special and have a special place in my memory just as the first racehorse that I rode still does after nearly thirty years.

Once seated I had a good look around. Towards the front there was the vent on the bonnet which made me feel quite low down in the car. My wing mirror was turned inwards so I couldn't use it as was the rear view mirror which was pointed away from me. It was the instructor's job to keep an eye out for what would be approaching from the rear and not mine. All I had to do was go forwards which was made even easier with an automatic gear change.

I turned the key and the V8 power unit in front of me came to life. As it did so, like a beast awakening from hibernation, the whole car shook. We eased out on to the circuit and started to accelerate. The car grumbled, gruntled and groaned as it picked up some speed. The instructor told me to listen for the "hum".

The drive from the parking zone to the start zone was along a straight and through a right hand corner. I felt comfortable and ready to go as we waited for traffic to clear coming from our right.

Foot down, track over to the right and get ready to start braking at the red flag.

Just before we reached the braking zone of the first corner the "hum" started. Not a musical or rhythmical hum but a constant bass one as if a church organist was holding down the lowest key on their keyboard. It stopped as soon as we decelerated into the sharp right hand corner.

At the apex of the corner I pushed the accelerator and let the car drift quite naturally to the left. This lined me up perfectly to pass through the narrow improvised chicane without having to make any sharp steering moves or change speed.

There was short straight to a right hand hairpin bend and again after braking to take the shortest line I accelerated at the apex and drifted left. I couldn't stay there which would have allowed me a wide approach into the next corner so had to steer back to an inside line.

Where we had started from soon went past and off to the left a Lamborghini was pulled up off the track with people looking into the cockpit and engine compartment.

After the chicane on the second lap we moved over to the left and had a straight in front of us to the parking zone. I pushed the accelerator and all the grumbling noises that the car had made earlier were silenced. There was just the "hum" to accompany us back to the parking zone and complete the drive.

As we decelerated I told the instructor how much I loved these old cars and that this one was the oldest I had ever driven. I told him that when they reached this age and were still going they had acquired a personality.

"Not so much a personality" I said "But more of a character."

I asked how many miles to the gallon this sort of car did?

"Oh we don't worry about that. All we want to see is smiles to the mile."