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2016 Rolls-Royce Dawn First Drive

There is apparently a migration of sorts among the set that would buy something like the 2016 Rolls-Royce Dawn, the newly arrived drophead variant of the raffish Wraith. When our theoretical Dawn buyer finds the Cote d'Azur or some such place a bit chilly, perhaps it's off to South Africa. Late March is the tail end of summer, and it's an exceedingly pleasant way to get into the Dawn state of mind. Stellenbosch is just northeast of Cape Town, the "Mother City." What used to be open country occupied primarily by the Khoikhoi and Khoisan peoples, as well as prototypical African game, is now wine country. Our starting point is a vineyard estate called Delaire Graff owned by a diamond baron. South Africa's diverse and stunning countryside is on display as we leave the vineyard and climb. The lower highlands are covered with quasi-Californian scrub, but with altitude the scene transforms into a mist-tickled moor full of low heather-like plants and tumbling rivulets. We traverse the suburban lowlands to a windy road clinging to a cliffside above the crashing surf of the Indian Ocean. Ancient cliffs and peaks jut over us at improbable angles and in fascinating shapes. At the end of our drive, looking across False Bay, the Cape stretches south towards the equivocal boundary between two oceans. Twice and then once, the Cape lighthouse winks at the end of Africa. Most automakers consider sportiness the ultimate attribute. Like its stablemates, the Rolls-Royce Dawn's draw is its timelessness and unabashed luxury. Here that's paired with the inherent hedonism of a convertible, not to mention the cachet that comes with spending $340,000 or more (most likely more) on a car. That figure makes the Dawn more expensive than the Ghost or Wraith, but less than the Phantom range. The Dawn is vast; like most huge things, it commands attention because it takes up so much space. Watching my colleagues dart around town was a bit like watching a flotilla of cruise liners maneuver to their moorages. Like a yacht with a lot of freeboard, the flanks rise impressively to the top of the door, but then there's some tumblehome inward to the thick brightwork strip ringing the cabin. A longitudinal spear of chrome bisects the hood, a bit like a grab-rail on the foredeck. The Spirit of Ecstasy could have graced the bowsprit of any of the windjammers that hove into Table Bay. Twice and then once, the Cape lighthouse winks at the end of Africa.

Navigating the road time forgot in a Rolls-Royce Cullinan

The Rolls-Royce Cullinan glides evenly over the rutted single-lane dirt road, barely unsettling its passengers. Nobody is speaking in the lush cabin, not even my normally chatty 7-year-old.  All eyes are turned to the Delaware River gliding by, a dozen feet away, through a skim of skeletal hardwood trees. There’s no sign of humanity or habitation. ItÂ’s almost a scene in a movie. The Last of the Mohicans, perhaps.  Today we are exploring the Old Mine Road, and it is making us think of ghosts. Its 104 miles of asphalt and dirt make up one of the oldest continuously-used roads in America, stretching from New YorkÂ’s Catskills to the Pennsylvania Delaware Water Gap. The Lenape are thought to have first threaded a path here in the 1300s.  It is also a pathway wending its way through the NortheastÂ’s violent history, from bloody skirmishes between the original Native American inhabitants and European settlers to the Americans and Brits in the Revolutionary War. Little wonder that out here in the quiet, that history — and those ghosts — feel close. Amazingly, the 40-mile section in New Jersey that follows the eastern banks of the Delaware looks much like it did a hundred years ago. There are million-dollar views, but as part of the Delaware recreation area, no development is allowed.  Instead of the gated McMansions youÂ’d expect less than 1.5 hours from New York City, we are greeted by silent forest and twin lanes of bumpy or shattered asphalt. ThereÂ’s a section of dirt and gravel, narrowing to a single lane. Easy to imagine hundreds of years of horses and mules stamping down the thin path.  It is early spring and like everyone else, we have cabin fever. My wife, son and mother-in-law are sheltering-in-place at our country house in the Poconos. America is locked into a struggle with an invisible enemy. It seems a good time to get some historical perspective. If our ancestors lived and endured under harsh conditions, so can we.  There is nothing inherently unsafe or socially unacceptable about taking a short road trip on a virtually unused road, so we pack a lunch of cold pizza and snacks, and pile into the leather-bound, environmentally-controlled cocoon of the Rolls. We make our way to Kingston, N.Y., where the road begins. IÂ’m finally going to drive the entirety of the Old Mine Road.   Our Barney-purple Cullinan is a rolling sanctuary, a movable fortress of social isolation.

Rolls-Royce Wraith Eagle VIII commemorates 1919 transatlantic flight

Rolls-Royce is building a 50-car limited edition of the Wraith called the Eagle VIII that will debut at the Concorso d'Eleganza Villa d'Este event at the Lake Como. The vehicle commemorates two pilots that completed the first non-stop transatlantic flight 100 years ago. The story behind the flight is fascinating: Captain John Alcock and Lieutenant Arthur Brown flew all the way from St John's in Newfoundland to Clifden, County Galway, Ireland, in a WWI Vickers Vimy bomber. The aircraft's engines were two 20.3-liter Rolls-Royce Eagle VII units, and it appears the engines were the only reliable thing on the flight apart from the crew themselves: the radio and navigation instruments failed right at the beginning of the journey as the wind-driven electrical generator broke, which also meant there was no heating. Because of this, the men had to rely on stars to find Ireland, when dense clouds finally subsided. And it's the clouds and stars that form the centerpieces of the special edition car. The headliner contains 1,183 fibers that light up to form the celestial arrangement at the time of the flight in 1919, with the exact moment when the Vickers plane emerged from the clouds highlighted in red. The decorative wood has silver and copper inlays so it resembles a night-time Earth seen from above. Plaques read "The celestial arrangement at the halfway point 00:17am June 15 1919, 50" 07' Latitude North – 31" Longitude West", and next to the brass speaker grilles, there is a Winston Churchill quote commending the crew, the plane and their unprecedented achievement. "I do not know what we should most admire - their audacity, determination, skill, science, their aeroplane, their Rolls-Royce engines - or their good fortune", it reads. The crash-landing location coordinates are engraved below the dashboard clock. The 1,880-mile ordeal with no heat, occasional snow and a constant barrage of noise from burst exhaust piping took Alcock and Brown 15 hours and 57 minutes, at an average speed of 115 mph. Both aviators were awarded the honor of Knights Commanders of the British Empire by King George V. Alcock later perished after crashing another Vickers plane en route to the Paris Airshow in December 1919. Brown passed away at the age of 62 in 1948. Other detailing on the two-tone Gunmetal and Selby Grey car is also related to the record-breaking Vickers plane, including the black grille vanes that mimic the plane's engine cowling.