Why the Jaguar?

So, why did I buy a Jaguar SUV? Well, frankly, because life’s far too short to drive something beige and tedious, like an accountant’s spreadsheet on wheels. I want drama, I want theatre, and I want an engine that makes the neighbours reconsider their property values. I’m here for the ride—preferably sideways.

Russian Airports, German Engineers, and the Birth of the SUV Arms Race

When I arrived at Sheremetyevo Airport in December 2005, straight off the back of an assignment in Turkey and off to Moscow for a new job, I was greeted by the usual Russian welcome: the sort of queue for passport control that would make even the most stoic British pensioner blanch. Soviet-era efficiency at its finest—if you like standing.

There, in the endless shuffle, I found myself chatting with a gaggle of German Porsche engineers, headed to a factory in Kazan to see if it was up to building the Cayenne. Yes, the Porsche Cayenne. Porsche, a company famous for svelte, two-seater missiles for the road, suddenly building a 4×4 family barge. Heresy! At that point, the Cayenne had been in production about eighteen months and, let’s be honest, most of us still thought it was a fever dream.

My Jeep Years

Meanwhile, I was wafting about in a Jeep Cherokee—one with a 4.0-litre straight-six engine that could tow the moon and probably did, on weekends. Since 2001, I’d had both a Cherokee and, later, a Grand Cherokee Diesel. Bulletproof, brawny, as subtle as a punch in the face, and perfect for dragging racing cars around Britain and Europe. The Grand Cherokee, particularly, was the Swiss Army knife of motoring—if that knife was the size of a small shed.

The SUV Boom: Everyone Wants a Slice

The 2000s were a gold rush for SUVs. Audi, Volkswagen with the Touareg, then later Lexus, Maserati, Alfa Romeo, Bentley, and yes, even Rolls Royce with their Cullinan—an opulent block of flats on wheels. Soon, the market was so crowded with options—Porsche Macan, VW Tiguan, Audi’s entire alphabet soup of Qs, the BMW X series—you’d have thought someone was giving them away with breakfast cereal.

Mission: Find an SUV That Isn’t Boring

Eventually, I hung up my towing cables and started hunting for something to replace the ageing Grand Cherokee. The requirements? Petrol engine, Euro 6 emissions, four-wheel drive, room for our dog, and, above all, a sense of fun. No one wants to drive a refrigerator.

So, I drew a line in the sand: nothing over three years old, under 20,000 miles, and contenders included the Porsche Macan (quick as a startled hare), BMW X3M (practical), and a slightly larger Jaguar F Pace. The BMW ticked the sensible boxes, the Porsche was all acceleration and fury, but the Jag… the Jag was comfortable, stylish, and, dare I say, made me feel a bit like a secret agent.

The F Pace SVR: Thunder in Black

So, I bought a Santorini Black Jaguar F Pace SVR. Under the bonnet: a 5.0-litre supercharged V8 thundering out 500 brake horsepower. 0-60 in four seconds—yes, four. That’s supercar fast, and, short of a space shuttle, it’s as quick as you’ll get with a boot this size. It’s loaded with the sort of bells and whistles that make you question your own usefulness: automated retractable step (because leaping aboard is so last decade), memory seats keyed to you personally, a steering wheel that politely moves aside so you can climb out in style, and climate controls that work on both the dashboard and the infotainment system—heated and cooled seats, obviously.

In the back? Enough room for actual humans or, with the parcel shelf out and a seat folded, Bentley the Golden Doodle, who seems to think he owns the place. The sport front seats are so supportive and adjustable, I could drive to the Arctic Circle and arrive without the slightest twinge—which I proved on a recent 180-mile round trip to Castle Combe. Not a single ache. Marvellous.

If You Must Complain…

All right, there’s one gripe: the rear styling is a bit…bulky. It looks like it’s wearing a rucksack. But unless you’re the poor soul following behind, you’ll never notice.

And that’s why I bought a Jaguar SUV. Because if you’re going to do practical, you might as well do it with a V8 soundtrack, a whiff of mischief, and a bootful of style. Life’s too short for anything less.