We drive the 543bhp Jaguar F-Type R-Coupe in and out of town for a full week.
The monsoons may have had a slow start, but on this evening in early
August, it’s pouring buckets. From my vantage point inside Jaguar Land
Rover’s very swanky corporate showroom in Worli, Mumbai, all I see is an
opaque sheet of rainfall. The flooded conditions seem apt to put any of
the Land Rovers on display to the test, not the 543bhp (and 69.3kgm),
rear-wheel-drive rocketship I have just been handed the key to. I’m
itching to drive, but better sense tells me to hold out. I just can’t
let impatience and unnecessary bravado cut short my week-long stint with
what promises to be Jaguar’s most exciting sports car in decades. A lot
of Jaguar literature and a few coffees later, I notice the downpour has
reduced to a mild drizzle. Visibility is better and traffic seems to be
in motion too — that’s the green signal I’ve been waiting for. I want
to make a fast getaway, but quickly realise I’d need the equivalent of a
racehorse’s blinkers to keep me walking straight to the car’s door. It
looks just so damn hot, I simply have to stop to take one hard look at
it. Eventually I peel my eyes away from the F’s shapely form, making a
mental list of all the details I’d like to see up close later on. Like
the door handles that pop out as you press the unlock button on the key
fob, which is such a neat touch.
It’s quite a drop into the cabin, but the beautifully contoured bucket
seats offer a comfortable landing. On the outset, frontal visibility
seems good and I’m quite taken by the welcome gesture or Jaguar
handshake. It’s performed by a platform hidden atop the centre console
that rises to reveal the air-con vents, a bit gimmicky but literally a
very cool touch. Starter button depressed, the engine rumbles to life to
settle at a gruff idle. Gear lever clicked to D, and I’m off. But I’m
not in the clear — rush hour has begun and traffic is thickening. All
plans for an initial joy ride are cancelled and I decide to call it a
day. It’s on the journey home that my right foot gives in to temptation
and I weigh down hard on the accelerator at the first opportune moment.
What follows has me thrilled and petrified at the same time. The Jag’s
tail momentarily steps out of line as the Pirellis struggle to put down
all that power on the wet surface. Meanwhile, the exhaust roars loud
enough to alert every living being in the vicinity that there’s a big
cat on the prowl. This is going to be a very fun week. .
continuous.... >>
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