2003 Rolls-Royce Phantom

Now then.

This car isn’t being sold by a vendor as such. And it doesn’t come with any kind of history or even a current V5.

The reason is that this car was brought to us to be auctioned by a debt collection company which is authorised by DVLA to sell the car on behalf of the administrators.

Or something like that.

The successful bidder for this car will have to apply for the V5 through the DVLA.

This, we’re assured, is a straightforward thing.

Anyway, the car has covered only 7,500 miles in its life and has spent the last few years doing very little indeed. The car’s computer tells us that it is 44 months overdue for a service.

We have driven the car and can report that it goes about its stately business with a degree of panache and comfort unmatched by practically anything else on the road.

Quite how the engine manages to haul 2.5 tonnes of metal, wood and leather around with such casual ease is nothing short of mind-boggling.

As for the ride quality, well it’s frankly extraordinary. This thing is the size of a narrowboat, but quieter and with a smoother ride.

In fact, it’s so quiet and smooth it makes the average Tesla sound like someone dragging a toolbox down a concrete farm track.

It wafts and shimmies like a magic carpet over the potholed unpleasantness and ‘traffic calming’ monstrosities that now litter most British roads.

And when you flex your right ankle it pulls away like the Flying Scotsman.

It is supremely comfortable, powerful, capable and impressive.

We had to wrestle our driver to the floor in order to get the keys back off him.

Quite frankly, this car is a stunning thing to behold. It challenges the vocabulary of anyone trying to describe it.

There are only so many superlatives available.

First things first. It is, obviously, undeniably, clearly….massive.

The boot badge and the Spirit of Ecstasy on the bonnet are in different post codes.

The whole thing is drenched in metallic blue paint that looks about an inch thick and has a depth of shine and lustre to it that just reeks of expense and craftsmanship.

But, it’s spent a while sitting parked on a Knightsbridge (where else?) street and the avian population has left its acidic signature in a few places on the roof, bonnet and boot. We imagine that a machine polish would get rid of these marks.

All shut lines, panel gaps and panels are untroubled by dinks, dents, creases, folds or ripples. The suicide doors (Rolls-Royce calls then ‘coach doors’) open and close with the gravity and precision of a bank vault.

The chrome and trim are in good condition. The n/s front fog light surround is a bit loose and some of the decorative strip inserts in the wheels have fallen out. You’ll be delighted to read that the gimballed ‘RR’ hub cap logos remain upright and still at all speeds. Which is nice.

The tyres, which wouldn’t look undersized on a tractor, appear to have plenty of life left in them.

If you’re especially petite, short-sighted or in any way less than adept at route finding, we suggest that you only enter this car when equipped with a map, compass and GPS device.

You could very easily get lost in here.

Pretty much everything in the gentlemen’s club-like interior is in very good condition.

All of it was designed to leave the owners and passengers of the time in no doubt that they were in something very special indeed.

And it’s still mightily impressive today.

The carpets are deep enough to keep your ankles warm.

The wood veneers on the dashboard and door cappings wouldn’t look out of place on a Sheraton table. Once up and running, the entire panel containing the analogue clock does a pirouette and turns into a display screen for the Hi-Fi, cameras, Sat Nav, etc.

The acres of brown leather are sumptuous, inviting, comfortable and cosseting.

The mats, door cards and headlining are all in fine fettle.

The umbrellas that should be inside the doors have gone AWOL.

All the Rolls-Royce (and BMW) toggles, stops, levers, switches and buttons are as shiny and classy as the day the good folk at Goodwood screwed them down.

There’s nothing so vulgar as a rev counter. Instead, the Phantom VII has a ‘Power Reserve’ meter. It does the same thing, only differently.

Everywhere you look there are cubby holes, hidden pockets, recessed spaces and secret doors. There’s more storage space here than in a three-bedroomed flat.

We’ve seen pub gardens with fewer ashtrays.

The door cards are good. The headlining is good. The inside of the boot (which looks small compared to the rest of the car but is nonetheless massive) is good.

Inside the glove compartment is a panel containing an array of small buttons. Among other functions, these can be used to raise and lower the Spirit of Ecstasy as required.

Yes, really.

The undersides of the car don’t raise any eyebrows or prompt a tut. Not least because it’s mainly an expanse of protective trays and covers. What’s visible looks solid, possessed of the right amount of structural integrity, and in keeping with a vehicle that’s built to outlive most of its owners.

Any bloom of rust dust appears to be entirely of the superficial variety.

Everything in the very full engine bay seems to be in its right and proper place.

This car has no history whatsoever.

None. Nada. Nix.

It’s a mystery.

Much like the current whereabouts of its previous owner.

But it does have an MoT certificate and one that’s valid until 23.9.22.

There are 6 previous MoTs visible on the check-mot.service.gov.uk site, dating back to 2007 when the car’s mileage was 3,292. It has passed every MoT since with no advisories.

There’s also an old-style V5 which, if nothing else, proves that the vehicle has always been recognised by the DVLA as a Rolls-Royce Phantom VII and not a Hillman Imp, a fishing trawler or a milk float.

The Phantom VII was a very important car for Rolls-Royce. New owners BMW pulled out all the stops to create something that had the dynamic abilities and engineering integrity to match its unrestrained, bespoke opulence.

And we think they succeeded.

We’re struggling to think of anything we’ve driven that conveys a greater sense of occasion.

It’s more than just a special car.

It’s a car that will never fail to make you feel special whenever you drive it.

Yes, it’s provenance is a bit murky and its history decidedly thin, but that might just make it something of a uniquely affordable route to ownership of one of the world’s most prestigious cars.

You really should come and see it for yourself.

We’re confident to offer it for auction with an estimate of between £70,000 - £85,000.

Viewing is always encouraged, and this particular car is located with us at The Market HQ near Abingdon; to arrange an appointment please use the Contact Seller button at the top of the listing. Feel free to ask any questions or make observations in the comments section below, or try our ‘Frequently Asked Questions’.