For a two-seater, there is more than enough room and even the cargo space is excellent. That’s the GT aspect well taken care of. Everything about the cabin is exquisite. The centre console is made from brushed aluminium and is highlighted by the glowing start/stop button. Carbon-fibre trim adorns much of the cabin. What they were thinking when they positioned the gear-lever where they did I am still trying to figure out, so let’s leave that bit aside. The dials are not too different from its siblings’ and the steering wheel too feels very familiar. But this is different, because a) two seats and b) 310 PS/tonne.
That’s right, at 1,645 kg and 510 PS, the GT S is as light as cars get today — let’s not bring the Lotii and Alfas into this — and that promises a rare form of distilled exhilaration. Of course, lest we forget, paper numbers are one thing and meaningful delivery is what truly pulls those heart-strings. There’s no precise burble, no bass orchestra and no fine-tuned exhaust: once you push the sports exhaust button the AMG GT S gives you something few cars do these days — noise! Proper noise; sounds that petrol-heads will thoroughly appreciate. The initial vroom is followed by an almost big-truck idle. It’s heavy, deep, and too lazy to be called a rumble. Don’t let that fool you, though. Get on the throttle and the sound piles on as quickly and addictively as the revs do. The GT S goes from 0 to 100 km/h in 4.something seconds and on to a claimed 310 km/h, no limiters here.
It’s the wild character that surprised me the most. Mercedes-AMG cars are quick — always — but their character is usually the equivalent of a German senior manager in a pressed pin-stripe, with maybe a bright yellow pocket square to fuel the idea that there is more to them than just smooth, precise performance, and that they look just as sharp hard at work as they do standing still. Not this one. No, this is the guy in a suit who ends up throwing one of the hardest punches in a bar fight. Takes you completely by surprise, it does.
Heading down the old highway, which, thankfully, was resurfaced, the ride quality was sublime, although the wiggle when my toe flexed itself a bit too much provided all the split-second drama I needed. Perfect. It did make me realise that absolute perfection eventually becomes absolutely boring. There needs to be some uncontrollable madness within that surfaces ever so often that keeps you from falling asleep on a straight, by inciting a reaction that leaves a look of unadulterated terror etched on your face, if only for a moment. Full marks to the GT S for that. It’s a fun creation; not just a machine.
More on page 3 >
