Aston Martin GT4: The boot's on the other foot

“So, you want me to drive an Aston Martin GT4 racer and a Formula Yas 3000 open-wheeler wearing these?”

Standing in pitlane at Abu Dhabi’s Yas Marina Circuit, I stare down in bemused fashion at my size eight feet, which aren’t clad in the minimalist suede race shoes you might find on the likes of Michael Schumacher or Sebastian Vettel. Instead, my tootsies are concealed in a pair of John Lobb lace-ups that would look less out of place in a swanky cocktail lounge than on a racetrack.

However, there’s method to the madness as this seemingly ludicrous exercise is part of a media promotional day to announce a tie-up between Aston Martin and John Lobb Bootmaker, the premium brand founded in Basingstoke, UK, in 1856.

Company bosses of each of the brands say there are obvious synergies between the two as they share the same philosophy and have common values. Add to this the fact that they’re both British firms with a strong emphasis on design and craftsmanship and it begins to make sense.

Tie-ups between carmakers and footwear companies aren’t exactly a new concept. Undoubtedly, the most high-profile example is Ferrari’s arrangement with Puma. As part of that cooperation a range of Puma products are emblazoned with the prancing horse of Maranello.

John Lobb’s offering, dubbed Winner Sport, is a bit more understated and completely unadorned by logos or brand names. The company touts it as a “driver’s shoe” rather than a “driving shoe”… The implication being that it can be worn for spirited driving, but its use isn’t limited specifically to in-car.

You could conceivably thrash around a racetrack in them, and then wear them out to a dinner party…

As an interesting aside, Daniel Craig (perhaps best known for his portrayal of James Bond) is said to be an aficionado of John Lobb shoes and apparently sent the company a complimentary note after acquiring his last pair.

Lobb… John Lobb…


TRACK TIME
Getting back to the present, I’m still getting over my initial puzzlement as I saunter down towards the Aston GT4 in my pimp-daddy white John Lobbs. Considering their semi-formal looks they're actually quite light and comfortable, but I begin to wonder if they’ll feel a bit clumsy operating the pedals of the race-prepped Aston, not to mention the Formula Yas 3000.

Clambering through the confined roll cage that adds strength and rigidity to the GT4’s bodyshell, I settle into the form-fitting Recaro raceseat that’s set so low I can only just see over the top of the dashboard. The reason the seat is only inches off the floor is to keep the centre of gravity as low as possible – after all, this is a proper competition car that competes in GT4 races around the globe… Every possible element is optimised to shave off the last tenth of every second.

It goes without saying that all sound-deadening material is binned, and there’s also a straight-through exhaust system, resulting in a deafening roar inside the cabin the instant the 4.7-litre V8 is roused into life. A tug on the right-hand paddle behind the wheel engages first gear with a clunk and we begin the trundle down pitlane.

The subsection of the track we’re using is the North Circuit, a 3.15km loop with 10 corners and a 1.173km straight that sees the Aston GT4 touching about 230km/h before the anchors have to be stamped on.

Easing out on the track, I decide to have a couple of sighting laps before going into max-attack mode, but I’m not sure “sighting” is the appropriate word because the biggest challenge I’m having is actually seeing out of the car from the low-slung seat.

I eventually get a feel for the car’s dimensions, enabling me to push harder and select more precise cornering lines. It's so loud inside the car that the instructor sitting next to me has to use hand signals to communicate, and I take it as a good sign that his hands remain in his lap for the most part. I can’t be doing too badly, after all…

A bit more about the Aston Martin: it’s homologated by the FIA for GT4 racing, and accordingly it has polycarbonate rear and side windows, built-in pneumatic jacks for speedy wheel changes and a 100-litre ATL 'bag' fuel tank.

The 4.7-litre V8 kicks out about 320kW, enough to propel the GT4 from 0-100km/h in 3.5sec and on to a V-max of 290km/h – but we won’t get anywhere near that today.

The six-speed Sportshift sequential gearbox isn’t too dissimilar from that used by the road-going V8 Vantage, but it’s beefed-up to withstand the rigors of racing. It’s pleasingly tactile and responsive to use, and each full-throttle upshift results in a hefty punch in the spine.

Needless to say, the brakes (with larger discs at the front) gain additional cooling and Pagid race pads to prolong their efficacy. The suspension is tweaked via Eibach springs and adjustable Bilstein dampers to minimise bodyroll and boost traction.

Having previously driven the road-going V8 Vantage S, it’s clear what a difference the GT4's weight-saving and performance-enhancing mods make. Aside from the deafening racket, stifling heat and eyeball-jarring vibration, it’s more eager to turn in to corners, and it sticks to the tarmac like chewing gum to a blanket. A kerb weight of 1350kg (versus 1614kg for the road car) means the GT4’s acceleration is noticeably sharper than the stocker, and it brakes with a far greater sense of urgency.

Staggering out through the rollcage once back in pitlane, I reflect on how remarkably a showroom-based car can be transformed by modifications that leave its innards largely untouched.


SOLE FOOD
The GT car experience proves to be only a mild precursor to the next item on the menu – 20 minutes of fast-lappery in the Formula Yas 3000. With just 700kg to haul and a Cosworth-built 3.0-litre V6 taking care of propulsion, the winged Yas 3000 open-wheel racecar offers virtually double the power-to-weight ratio of the Aston. I limbo into the puny cockpit with a slight sense of apprehension.

In theory, the transition shouldn’t be that difficult as there are still just two pedals to contend with for the most part – the clutch is used only for moving off from rest and coming back to a standstill. The gearshift procedure is otherwise as per the Aston – tug the left paddle for downshifts and the right one to shift up.

It’s been a few years since I last parked my derriere in an open-wheeled racecar, so there’s again a feeling of acute claustrophobia as I slide my John Lobb-clad feet down and forward into the narrow fuselage. This feeling is only accentuated once I’m tightly harnessed in place and the steering wheel is reattached.

However, any claustrophobic sensations are forgotten once the V6 noisily erupts into life. Engage first gear, ease out the clutch and we’re away. Ahead of me, in an identical car is Faisal Al Redha, an accomplished racer who moonlights as an instructor at the Yas Marina Circuit when he’s not engaged in competitive action in Europe.

Before we set off, Faisal explains that he will set off at moderate pace, and progressively up the ante as long as I stick to his tail. And so it proves, the first couple of laps are relatively tame (although we were probably already circulating quicker than in the Aston at full pace) enabling me to get a feel for the steering, brakes and throttle response.

As I’d expected, every aspect of the car has precision and tactility to it – so much so that I feel I’m 'hardwired' into the car. Even the tight right-hand hairpin at the far end of the North Circuit requires no more than half a turn of lock. Gearshifts are equally direct, and there’s a delay of only milliseconds before the next cog slots in, accompanied by a pneumatic hiss from the actuation mechanism.

As you’d find in an F1 car, there’s a series of upshift lights to save having to monitor the tacho. As revs rise, the first few progressively light up green, and the optimum time to shift up is when the last two, which are orange, light up.

Up ahead, Faisal begins to crank up the pace as I resolutely stick to his gearbox. Disconcertingly for me, I discover he’s able to pull out about eight car lengths down the back straight – thanks to getting much better drive out of the hairpin that precedes it – and he later explains that trick is to stay out extra-wide on corner entry, apexing late and being patient with throttle application.

I also notice I’m not really nailing the braking zone at the end of the back straight. Faisal stands on the stoppers at the 100m mark, whereas I had been getting on them at the 150m signpost. I make a mental note to hold off on the braking, but it really is a cerebral stretch as it takes a while for it to sink in how much quicker an open-wheeler wipes off the speed compared with a 'normal' car. It’s in an altogether different league.

In fact, it’s the braking and cornering grip that are standouts for me, even though straight-line acceleration is also much more ferocious than in the Aston Martin GT4. Even if you’re an accomplished driver, if all you’ve ever pedaled are road-based cars, you’d need at least a few sessions in the Formula Yas 3000 to begin to explore its performance envelope.

The other notable aspect is how intensely physical the open-wheeler is to drive. I had already worked up a good sweat in the Aston, but I step out of the Formula Yas after 20 minutes with aching forearms and feeling generally worse for wear. It gives me renewed respect for Formula One drivers, who endure far greater cornering, accelerative and braking G-forces and for far greater duration.

That said, I feel rather pleased with myself when Faisal walks over afterwards, gives me the thumbs-up and says I showed impressive pace for a Formula Yas virgin. A bit of finessing on the big braking zone at the end of the back straight and on the hairpin before and I’d be up to a respectable level. Something to work on in case I ever get invited back again…

Wiping off with a cold towel and chugging down a bottle of water, I remember once again why I’m here in the first place: to glean whether high-performance driving and high-fashion shoes really do mix. I think the answer lies in the fact that I never once thought about what my feet were clad in while haring around the track.