A rather expensive amount of time later, my work on the Dubai Mall Fashion Avenue is done. New shirt, suit and shoes at the ready and a quick comb of the hair, and I’m back behind the wheel for a suitably genteel spin around the Marina. Or at least I would be were it not for one button: Sport.
Suddenly the burble emanating from the exhausts ratchets up a notch, a much fierier and emphatic roar now being sent through the pipes and exploding its way into the open, resonating as it does through the cabin. There’s little change to the feel through the wheel sadly, but there’s now greater enthusiasm under acceleration and renewed vigour to the gear changes. All of which are accompanied by that sound, and my renewed enthusiasm to push the button a little harder and coerce that sound a little more.
The new shirt is untucked, the suit jacket is thrown on the backseat and the seatbelt is given a tug.
Style need not always be subtle.
