In what might be the least surprising news since we discovered that water is wet, someone is already trying to sell their Aston Martin Valour. The car, which was launched approximately fifteen minutes ago to celebrate Aston's 110th anniversary, is being offered for the entirely reasonable sum of $1.9 million by someone in New York who's apparently discovered they have an allergy to manual gearboxes. The car in question has covered a whopping 143 miles, which means its owner must have really struggled with those six forward gears before deciding to part ways with it. It's finished in something called "Xenon Grey Signature Metallic," which I assume is marketing speak for "grey, but expensive." Now, the Valour is actually a rather special thing. It's essentially what happens when Aston Martin looks at their one-off Victor and thinks "we could probably sell 110 of those." It's got a proper twin-turbo V12 making 705 horsepower, which in today's world of 1,000+ hp hypercars seems almost modest. But crucially, it comes with three pedals and a stick shift, making it rarer than a politician telling the truth. The interior is wrapped in what appears to be an entire herd of very expensive cows, finished in black and tan with some "100th Anniversary" embroidery in "Ivory Gold" - because regular gold just wouldn't do. The wheels are something called "Honeycomb Q," which sounds more like a breakfast cereal than a wheel design. But here's the thing - this car represents everything that's wrong with the modern supercar market. These limited editions aren't being bought by enthusiasts who want to experience the last hurrah of the manual transmission V12. They're being bought by people who view them as investments, like very loud shares certificates with windscreen wipers. The original owner has probably made a tidy profit just by driving it home from the dealership. And while that's all well and good for their bank balance, it means that yet another special car will probably spend its life in a climate-controlled garage, only emerging for the occasional photo opportunity or when its owner needs to remind their Instagram followers that they exist. What makes this even more tragic is that the Valour is genuinely special. It's one of the last manual V12s we're likely to see, built by a company that still believes in the art of the manual gearshift. It deserves to be driven, to have its gears stirred like a proper British sports car, not treated like a piece of automotive cryptocurrency. So, I am off to write a strongly worded letter to my bank manager explaining why they should give me a $1.9 million loan. Though I suspect "because it's got a manual gearbox" might not be the most convincing argument.
