A virtual press blackout around their cars makes Bristol a mysterious marque but, as John Griffiths writes, they have a certain rough and ready charm
THE FACTORY is reached through a labyrinth of nondescript streets in a corner of Filton, on the outskirts of Bristol.
A sign proclaiming "Bristol Cars" stands alongside gates of solid, blue-painted steel. Beyond them lies the production site of a car maker that is without doubt one of the industry's most mysterious. I have no idea what goes on behind those gates; nor, so far as I am aware, has any other journalist. We have been barred from Bristol's factory from the very beginning.
On this occasion, however, one gate has been left ajar. Peeking through, I can see two workshop buildings, each maybe 100ft long, two-dozen parked cars - everyday ones, presumably belonging to employees - and a couple of truck trailers with blue curtains hiding their wares. There is an air of 1960s industrial Britain here. The architectural elan of the headquarters of other supercar makers is entirely absent.
Even the public face of Bristol Cars is low-key. It consists of a small showroom in London's West Kensington. The company sells directly to customers; there are no dealers.
No, says Richard Hackett, Bristol's de facto marketing chief, nobody can go inside the sanctum. When pressed, he cites confidential defence contracts linked to Bristol Cars' origins as Bristol Aeroplane Company offshoot as the reason. I should perhaps count myself lucky that Bristol has even allowed me to drive one of its products at all.
Anthony Crook, who owned the company until his retirement last year, refused journalists test drives, and not much has changed since his longtime associate, Toby Silverton, bought the company from him.
As far as I am aware, Steve Cropley, the editor-in-chief of Autocar, is the only other journalist to have driven the Fighter - and only by borrowing one from a customer.
By the end of the test drive - shunning the M4 motorway and instead traversing picturesque towns and villages such as Marlborough and quaint Castle Combe along the old A4 trunk road - I find the Fighter as enigmatic as the company. It is a car in respect of which all conventional yardsticks of value must be set aside.Bristol aficionados will consider nothing else
The Fighter was announced in 1999, with initial deliveries scheduled for 2001. But not until 2003 did Bristol show even a rolling chassis. Since then, Fighters have obviously been delivered to customers, as Cropley's drive proved, but how many is unclear.
Bristol said it would build 20 Fighters a year. Surprisingly, the test Fighter is a 2005-registered model with substantial mileage on the clock.
Some might pay out what is an almighty sum for the Fighter's hand-crafted aluminium body alone. That its curves and precision of fit are the work of human hands, not computer-controlled machinery, is something to marvel at. Only the upward-opening gull-wing doors and the tailgate are made of carbon fibre.
The Fighter's design is like that of no other car. Its shape is unique, crafted to go very fast but eschewing all the conventions of current supercars.
It is taller and narrower than rivals. It bears some resemblance to a land-bound aircraft, which is no accident: Silverton puts great stress on Bristol's use of aerospace principles to create its low-drag designs. The claimed drag coefficient of 0.255 for the highest-specified Bristol Fighter T model is industry-leading.
There is an extraordinary amount of room in the "cockpit". You also cannot help but love the clear glass section of the lower tailgate, providing rearward visibility a tail gunner would appreciate.
The interior is beautifully trimmed in Wilton and the leather bucket seats will take their occupants across continents in comfort. The tight turning circle would do credit to a taxi.
And yet there is a feeling of the unfinished about the Bristol. There is a delightful (but expensive option) engine-turned surface available for the flat metal dashboard, centre console and roof panel. The electric seat adjusters are set in plain aluminium panels that I could even replicate in my workshop. Control knobs are hand-turned from aluminium, and look it.
Maybe such an idiosyncratic approach is treasured by Bristol owners as part of the mystique, but it is well removed from the luxurious opulence of the similarly priced Rolls-Royce Phantom Coupé or the Bentley Continental GT Speed.
The Bristol's ride, despite sophisticated double wishbone suspension all round, still feels under-developed. Consider, also, the Chrysler-based drivetrains and some may struggle to see such high value in the car. But Bristol is in its 63rd year and presumably has a loyal following. Even the "standard" Fighter, with its 525bhp and relatively lightweight 1,500kg, goes hard - Bristol claims 338 km/h.
The Fighter "S", with a claimed 628bhp, goes harder yet. Quite what is to be made of the new twin-turbocharged, Fighter "T", with a claimed 1,021bhp, must await a serious test drive.
Bristol claims a potential top speed of over 435km/h but will have it limited to 362km/h as being "more than sufficient".
An appropriate response is, perhaps: "Prove it."
- Financial Times Service