What makes something iconic? I know that I can read a definition of the word in the dictionary. I know that I can prompt AI for a sterile boiler plate answer, but as I sit in the main seat of the Porsche 911, I’m fully aware that it’s more than black words sprawled on white. It’s a feeling, an aesthetic, legacy, pedigree and above all perhaps… a movement. I could fill a page describing the way the 911 goes, the speed, handling and grip. Or the noise, the shove in your back for that matter, I could go on – and I will in a moment. But does there exist a sliver of metal that scores so highly across the board in reference to its uniquely distinct teardrop profile, an enviable racing heritage that endures today and the coolest cultural impact captured in cinema and even music? A car so beloved by those who drive them and the rest of us that inspire us to do so? For these reasons and a dozen more the Porsche 911 is deeply iconic. Even in base Carrera form, lathered in Lugano Blue paint.
The Drive
I’m in the driver’s pew, the controls pointed at me as I envelop the narrow helm with two eager palms. Every 911 is an event, a little selfish as far as experiences go and this new Carrera is no different. Under the errr, bootlid you’ll encounter an equally iconic flat-six engine capable of churning forth 290kW and 450Nm. These aren’t astronomical figures but Porsche – ever masters in engineering, balancing and honing, means it feels like a million. As a result, it will pounce from standstill to one-hundred in 3.9 seconds with the Sport Chrono Pack (standard it will achieve it in 4.1) with a top speed of 294kph. So it’s quick, and a clue as to the performance this new chassis is capable of when fierier GTS and Turbo models come down the line. Not that I wanted for more on my test route, incorporating three of my favourite Cape mountain passes, kicking it off with Helshoogte in Stellenbosch. Driving modes abound here, dialled via a rotary on the (heated, thankfully – it’s a chilly Cape winter) steering wheel. I twisted it into it’s sportiest preset as soon as the tarmac cleared and straights became corners. A hair on the throttle revealed instant acceleration, linear and sonorous – there’s nothing that sounds like a flat-six from Stuttgart. Sharp, raspy and piercing the mountain air as I leaned into the turns, the suspension giving just enough for comfort’s sake but holding firm so that I can track the apex and punch through it. Balance. The steering too is deliciously flavourful, granular with feedback allowing you to get into a rhythm. Before you know it, you’re dancing. An hour later, I was perched atop Franschhoek Pass, the 911’s brakes and engine ticking themselves cool as my heart rate did the same. Here, with an epic backdrop as inspiration, the late afternoon sun kissing my shaky forearms, I realise I have some more thoughts.
Here’s the thing about icons. They endure. Perhaps forever. And as a result, we’ll forgive them most things. Think about it. Porsche has been at the forefront of technology since its inception – in fact I’d argue it has contributed to its iconic status. Ironically, this ethos has gone against the grain of purists of late, forsaking the manual transmission we love for automatic PDK gearboxes. Similarly their rorty naturally-aspirated soundtracks have all been replaced, augmented by the boosts and whistles of turbochargers. And cover your ears if this next bit offends you, but they’ll do it once again with electricification, even if in a less intrusive manner than going fully EV. My point? Just that when you’ve accumulated this much cool, this much legacy with the driver at the heart of your engine, and the engine at the heart of your machine, you get to make the rules. With the 911, we can trust Porsche to continuously deliver a driver’s car, whatever the Zeitgeist. I’m as tickled at the end of this drive as I’ve been in anything else I’ve ever driven. And that shape, in this setting, in this light? It’s… what’s the word? Iconic.
