Aston Martin Valour review

Inside you’re presented with ye olde Vantage dashboard, but you won’t be cross about this because you’ll be busy smarting from pincering your nether regions on the exposed carbon seat bolster which cruelly lies in wait.

Tug the carbon-clad door shut and it’s darker and more intimidating inside than the donor car, because of the shallow side windows and complete lack of rear glass. A regular rear-view mirror doubles as a camera screen.

Is that… tweed?

And what a great choice it was. Aston’s leaned into the throwback factor in this particular Valour and lavished the seat padding and ceiling in a delightful tweed thatch. Nestled comfortably in Sherlock Holmes’ underwear drawer, you’re less likely to care about the last-gen switchgear and be more impressed by the sympathetic ‘box-swap.

There’s a footrest to the left of the clutch pedal big enough to accommodate a size-twelve. The pedals are sensibly spaced and weighted. Nicely set up for heel-and-toe. Nothing feels like an afterthought. Cobbled together? Nope. The transmission is a centrepiece, to be worshipped.

That gear lever looks… gorgeous.

Amid a carbon plinth on the console it stands, topped with an unpolished walnut summit the size of a tennis ball. It’s exaggerated, but why not? Same goes for the exposed linkages beneath. They could’ve clothed that in a hand-stitched leather gator, but the fact they didn’t suggests a celebration of the mechanical.

You can fashion a paddleshifter from carbon fibre, titanium, or solid gold lacquered in unicorn tears, but it’s essentially a button. A button isn’t as evocative as a mechanism.

But otherwise it’s pretty old inside?

Afraid so: the screens are fuzzy, the creaky Mercedes infotainment almost as retro as the headlining and there’s nowhere to put the obnoxious key, or your phone, or a drink. The steering wheel buttons which toggle driving and suspension modes are slow to react. But these days, even having buttons at all, as opposed to touch-sensitive mayhem, is something of a tonic.

Is it practical?

Listen to yourself. ‘Is the limited-run million-quid supercar useful for a dash to the shops?’ Erm, yes in fact. The tailgate opens to reveal a generous boot easily big enough for a couple of weekend-away bags, and there’s even an umbrella thoughtfully strapped to the carbon underbelly of the hatchback.