Today I say goodbye to an old friend. A friend I started missing the day I knew it was going. After nearly 30k miles I’m saying goodbye to the current bearer of the number plate P9 AKN, a white Porsche 911 C2S Cabriolet (code 991.1). The ‘C’ in the ‘C2S’ stands for ‘Carrera’, a name synonymous with the marque and model, the ‘2’ refers to the number of driven wheels and the ‘S’ indicates this is a 911 model with extra spice.
This model was launched in 2012 and it has a 3.8 liter ‘flat-six’ engine pumping out 420bhp with the optional power pack. Add the the seven-speed dual-clutch PDK gearbox and the Sport Chrono Pack and it’ll hit 62mph in less than 4.1 seconds. So it has serious sports car performance. This model is also the first to replace the 911’s much loved hydraulically assisted steering with an electrically assisted one. Hmmn. The steering feel on a 911 has always been one of its best qualities as no other car offers the clarity and feedback that a 911’s helm does. Why a convertible? Proper enthusiasts won’t be caught dead in a rag top so why did I opt for a convertible 911? My first Porsche convertible? Well, I’d heard that the convertible lost almost nothing in performance terms to its hard top stablemate and most of the reviews from the usual reputable sources also said the same. Secondly, my ‘boy-racer’ days are well behind me (or so I thought) and thought I would not miss the performance deficit. Thirdly, it appeared to be the best of both worlds, a cruiser to enjoy the little sun we have in summer and a bona-fide sports car that will satisfy most enthusiasts. It certainly satisfied my son who always requested, no, instructed me to ‘drop the roof’ anytime he rode in the car regardless of the weather. This always led to interesting conversations in which I tried to explain to him just why it was a bad idea to drop the roof in January when the temperature gauge read 2 degrees Celsius….
I had many, many memorable drives in this car. Some I can discuss, some I cannot for fear of the law. One memorable trip was to the 2015 Belgian Grand Prix at Spa-Francochamps. The car took a friend and I all the way there and back in style and comfort. One minute we could be cruising top down, the next, the roof was up, one of the two ‘psycho’ (sport modes) modes engaged and we would be blasting through the Dutch\Belgian countryside. It was during one of those blasts that we incurred the wrath of the Dutch police who took a dim view of our antics and promptly banned me for three months after a hastily convened conference call with a magistrate from the back of the police car! Talk about efficiency! A magistrate was on hand ON A SUNDAY MORNING to swiftly dispense justice.
The Dutch are most definitely crazy.