BUT
DIFFERENT
I
t takes something monumental to keep a Spaniard from his siesta; his own funeral perhaps.
But right now, a seismic event is ripping through a tiny mountain village in the Spanish Pyrenees.
It’s 3pm – nana-nap o’clock across southern Europe – and yet a group of locals are shunning
their daily snooze in order to watch our convoy of DB11s purr through their village, all of them
to a man still vertical and, as far as we can tell, their eyelids not propped open by matchsticks.
The DB11, the successor to Aston Martin’s iconic DB9, is that kind of car; it could wake General
Franco from his grave. Or even Enzo Ferrari. It doesn’t shout “Look at me!” or demand Instagram
likes in the manner of some performance cars, yet it somehow seduces you. It’s automotive
black magic, or, as our Spanish voyeurs can testify, a powerful batch of amphetamine. »THE BRITS HAVE DONE IT AGAIN WITH THE EVEN-BETTER-
THAN-BEFORE ASTON MARTIN DB11. GENUINELY ITS OWN MAN.
WORDS • STEPHEN CORBY
176 | theceomagazine.com