A GHOSTLY PRESENCE

Rolls-Royce's Phantom II defined luxury car supremacy in the early 1930s. Richard Heseltine drives a special Weymann-bodied example that escaped a premature death

- Richard Heseltine

OK, whose cockamamie scheme was this? The vistas are sensational, as befits a house atop a big-boned mountain. They should be, given that the owner once operated the Orient Express. It is extremely tranquil here, the palatial gardens ending somewhere above the clouds; the bit where you are advised not to walk in case you upset the wild boars. Heaven forbid. None of this is remotely of interest right now, mind, not least because the driveway has 90° angles and the sort of incline where ideally you would have a bit of a run-up first. About a mile or so should do it.

As such, this is not the ideal location to become au fait with a 1930 Rolls-Royce Phantom II. It is cosy in here, despite the enormous dimensions. The view through the shallow windscreen comprises mostly sky, and the sun is glinting off its unpainted aluminium bonnet like the refraction of a diamond. The car emits only the faintest of burbles, as is to be expected, and it's a case of right full rudder and up, aiming for the narrowest of entrances. And finally we are through.

The Phantom II has the turning circle of an ocean liner yet thankfully-sufficient torque to flatten the topography and steering that doesn't quite require the upper body strength of Charles Atlas to conduct. This is clearly going to be a day of surprises. Whatever metric you judge things by, this car is magnificent. That, and perhaps a mite peculiar, too, simply because it was tailored to suit the exacting whims and requirements of the Portuguese Rolls-Royce concessionaire.