Dismantled

Bentley Continental GTC - FSD 798

Chassis:  SCBDE23W67C046099

Fresh off the road — and, for once, under its own power — comes this 2007 Bentley Continental GTC, having bravely made the trip from Cambridge to us without the help of a trailer or divine intervention. It even arrived with a valid MOT, two keys, and, remarkably, no Kessy faults — which, if you know your Continentals, is a small miracle in itself.

At first glance, it looks rather presentable. The silver paint still gleams respectably, panels align as Crewe intended, and there’s no obvious sign of mistreatment that we often see. From ten paces, you might even think this was a keeper. But take a few steps closer, and the story starts to change.

The black soft top, for instance, has seen better decades — torn and frayed at the rear passenger side. It still goes up and down, which is almost impressive, but “weatherproof” isn’t the word that comes to mind.

Then there are the wheels. The right-hand side is one design, the left-hand side another — both Bentley originals, both well and truly acquainted with kerbs, repeatedly and with enthusiasm. It’s as if someone got halfway through a wheel swap, thought “That’ll do,” and then parked exclusively by feel.

Mechanically, it starts, drives, and even stops on command. But park it for more than 30 seconds and the front end takes a graceful bow to the tarmac — a sure sign of an air leak in the dampers. There’s no waiting around; it drops almost instantly, nose first, as if relieved the effort of standing upright is finally over.

Inside, it’s as you’d expect: luxury showing its age. Nothing catastrophic, just the usual signs of a car that’s lived a full, if not entirely gentle, life.

This one’s heading straight to the testing ramp today — not for a resurrection, but for evaluation. Whatever’s good will live on: engines, modules, leather, trim — but this GTC won’t be touring the Riviera again. It’s a breaker, plain and simple. Its good bits will go on to keep other Continentals gliding along gracefully, while the rest bows out with quiet dignity.