Bentley Continental GT Convertible review: Want to feel special? Try sitting in this

When you climb into the Continental GT, it’s like getting into Lewis Hamilton’s head.

Bentley Continental GT Convertible, from $464,600

Last weekend, while a bit over-refreshed at a 50th birthday party, I took to the dancefloor and, with my head basically inside one of the speaker stacks, spent a happy hour throwing dad shapes to tunes from my youth. This was a mistake, because for the rest of the weekend there was a whole new descant in my head of what sounded like a dentist’s drill being used to shut down an old- fashioned alarm clock.

Then, when I was driving the new Bentley Continental GT convertible to London, there was an issue. Obviously, the 5950cc engine was so quiet it could have been 10cc; each of the 12 pistons, arranged in Bentley’s peculiar W-shaped formation, went about its business like a mouse in a minefield. And there wasn’t much wind noise either. A little ruffle above the roof, perhaps, but that was about it.

The tyres were a different story, though. Almost all the noise made by modern cars comes from air being squeezed in the tread, and the Bentley was no different. However, the sound seemed to be echoing around inside the wheel arches. And it was producing a pitch I found intolerable. This was the sort of white noise the CIA uses to make people talk – I had to put tissues in my ears to make it go away.

At first I thought it was a Bentley design fault and I was going to write a finger-wagging review saying that this sort of thing should have been addressed by the Noise, Vibration & Harshness Department long before the car went on sale. But over the following days I noticed the exact same thing happening in my Range Rover and in a BMW i8 and in an Audi TT. And then I realised my night on the dancefloor, with my head in a 4000-watt speaker, meant that, for the time being, I can’t drive a car on the motorway without reaching for the Kleenex.

So let’s move on, shall we, to an actual problem with the Bentley. At low speed – around town, for instance – the gearbox made an almighty fuss about changing from first to second. This was clearly a fault of some kind. But it would be unfair to judge the whole car on one glitch. That would be like damning a hotel because a breakfast waitress dropped a coffee cup. And, anyway, the rest of the car is perfect.

To the casual observer it may appear to be little changed from the previous model, but it is. It’s stiffer, which means that even though it weighs more than most black holes it is extremely agile. The front axle has been shifted forwards, which means there’s less of a front overhang and the engine can be mounted lower down. That, and a more steeply raked windscreen, means when you stare at it, as you would a Leonardo in the Hermitage, you begin to realise that this is a seriously good-looking car.

It’s also extremely good value for money. I’m not being obtuse when I say that. Naturally, if you go crazy with the options list things can get a bit out of control, but the base price of this car puts it in the same league as an Aston Martin DB11 and Ferrari Portofino, and not far above the equivalent Mercedes.

None of these other cars feels quite so special. When you climb into the Continental GT, it’s like getting into Lewis Hamilton’s head: everything glistens and glitters and shimmies. Yes, it’s full-on bling, but come on, what do you expect?

Since the world seems to be falling out of love with folding metal roofs, the Bentley has a canvas lid that can be folded away when you’re driving. And when you do that, you can hear passers-by saying: “Wow. Look at that man in the Bentley putting his roof down as he goes along. I bet he’s a nice chap, and has a huge penis as well.” Actually, I’m not sure they are saying that.

As a general rule, I don’t like four-seat convertibles, because what’s the point? The only person who ever looked good in the back of such a thing was, as I’ve said before, Hitler. But the Bentley gets round this by not really being a four-seater at all. Only a small child could fit in the back, and it’s the same story in the boot. Once your kids are past, say, 14, you’d not get them in there either.

I was genuinely sad when the man from Bentley came to take this car away. I absolutely loved being in it. Bentley’s rivals can give you a first-class experience, but the Continental GT is like being in a porn star’s Gulfstream V. Who, secretly, doesn’t want that in their life?

Bentley Continental GT Convertible

Engine: 6.0-litre twin turbo-petrol W12 (467kW/900Nm)

Average fuel: 12.4 litres per 100km

Transmission: Eight-speed automatic, all-wheel drive

Price: From $464,600

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars