Jaguar may call this the new XF but seriously, some things just don’t change. Take for example the way people stare at you when you’re in it. Step out and walk away from the car and suddenly you’re a nobody again. Except if you’re Bruce Willis. Or a certain brawny Khan. But then again, you’d be getting out of a rickshaw instead if you were him.
Stomp on the throttle, start a countdown from two, and you’re suddenly lifting off. A drone, with rising crescendo, plays its part as the accompanying soundtrack. I’ve got the 271 bhp, 3.0 litre V6 diesel (the sole oil burning engine option, petrolheads get two gasoline motors to choose from) at my beck and call. The open stretch of highway lies ahead of me and I’m not going to let it down. But then, just short of 190 kph, it’s time to reign in those horses and let sanity prevail. The Jaguar drops pace almost immediately, and all within perfect control. It’s phenomenal how composed these cars are, whether it’s around a corner, gunning through a straight, or shedding speed.
The XF is no hatchback when it comes to its dimensions. Despite its rather large frame, the Jag feels like a lithe little pussycat in fast moving traffic, with its ability to change direction at a moment’s notice. You have to use your mirrors well though, after all, there’s a lot of Jaguar tailing behind the driver’s seat.
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