For Sale: 2003 Jaguar S-Type in Katwijk, Netherlands

Blair, spin doctor of New Labour, was busy building a new Great Britain in the late nineties. Everything had to be fresh, modern and self-assured. And while Cool Britannia blared out of every radio, there was a little group of engineers in Coventry with exactly that same feeling. Jaguar needed a new chapter. Something that reached back to the glory days of the Mark 2, that gorgeous saloon in which bank robbers used to outrun the police, only without the rust and with rather more civilised manners. And so the S-Type was born: retro before retro was cool, with that soft, rounded nose and the broad grille that shouts "Jaguar" at you from ten metres away. The trouble with the early S-Types was that under the bonnet they had turned out a touch too well-behaved. Ford had its hands on the dials, and you could tell. But then came the 4.2 V8. And that changed the whole story. This AJ34 eight-cylinder suddenly turns a proper British gentleman into a chap in a club blazer with a mischievous glint in his eye. Three hundred horses, a greedy, rounder rumble that in the distance sounds like someone quietly impersonating thunder, and a gearbox that eases you up to speed so smoothly that you come to your senses at Spaghetti Junction without quite knowing how you got there. Not the flashy one, not the roaring one, but that quintessentially English blend of wood veneer, thick leather and an engine slumbering underneath until the moment you need it. This is the car of the barrister who has already won his case before he walks into the courtroom. Civilised, but with reserves in hand. Right, back to the S-Type 4.2 on offer here. This one is finished in Ebony, that deep black a Jaguar always looks so good in, and it is genuinely loaded to the rafters with everything Coventry had in the options book in 2003. And I mean everything. Xenon headlamps, adaptive damping, memory pack, winter pack, electric glass sunroof, an electric rear sunblind for when the ladies in the back get a little too warm, adjustable foot pedals, park distance control, Alpine sound system, navigation, and even a ski hatch. Sitting on the original 18" Monaco alloys are four Goodyears with tread that is practically new. This was the Sport specification at the time, and the previous owner in Germany had clearly had no intention of leaving a single box unticked. And that German past is exactly what makes this car so appealing. The complete service file comes with it, from the delivery inspection at Ford-Werke in K�ln-Niehl in 2002, via the Jaguar Center in Bonn, through to the later services and T�V inspections at a garage in K�ln. Warranty booklet, dozens of invoices, inspection reports. A car with a CV, not a car with a question mark. Every stamp in its place, every inspection passed cleanly with no faults. You do not build a file like that, it only grows when someone takes the trouble year after year. Admittedly, by today's standards it is not the fastest, not the sharpest and not the most digital. But that is precisely the point. A modern premium saloon clamours for your attention with screens and beeps. This Jaguar whispers. You step in, the door closes with that muffled thump, your hand finds the leather shifter, and then you glide away as though the road itself steps politely aside for someone of standing. It is comfort from a generation that still believed a car should above all be pleasant, and only then fast. So who still looks for this sort of car? The enthusiast who has had enough of yet another German lease-fleet classic and wants something with character, with a face, with a story. Someone who understands that a V8 under a British bonnet is a different thing altogether from a V8 out of Munich. Someone who, on a grey Sunday morning, fancies a run along the cliffs at Beachy Head purely because they can, with the rumble in the background and an espresso in the cup holder. Yes, it has cup holders. By 2003 the English had finally cottoned on to the fact that gentlemen get th