► This isn’t your average Jaguar E-Type
► Fuel injection, fancy suspension, 430bhp
► It’s pricey, mind. But we don’t really care
I’ve always wanted to drive a Jaguar E-Type. It’s been on my bucket list since the first time I watched the silver screen mobsters in The Italian Job chuck two off the Nivolet Pass in the Alps. But I’ve struggled to find an opportunity to try one.
That was until a couple of weeks ago, when a plucky (and incredibly talented) British engineering company called E-Type UK poked its head into my inbox with an offer that would tick off one of my life goals. Needless to say, I leapt at the chance.
But the opportunity presented a problem. The car available wasn’t a standard E-Type. It was a heavily modernised restomod with a five-speed gearbox, fuel injection and enough power to embarrass an M3. That means I still haven’t had a ‘pure’ E-Type experience but, considering how astounded I was by this recreation, I’m not sure I want one now.
Full disclaimer – this homage is a lot more expensive than a standard E-Type, but a standard E-Type doesn’t stop, go or steer anywhere near as well. In the grand scheme of things, I reckon it’s worth the money. Scroll down for a canter through the best day at work I’ve had in the last 12 months. Trust me, driving doesn’t get better than this.
At a glance
Pros: wondrous exhaust note, savage acceleration, beautifully tactile handling
Cons: I’m bitter about the fact I’ll never be able to afford one
What’s different?
Compared to an original E-Type? Basically everything.
E-Type UK started the project by stripping the car down to its underpants and replacing all the rotten metal. It then updated the chassis with adjustable dampers, new springs, fresh bushes and more powerful four-piston brakes up front. And would you look at those panel gaps? Jaguar can’t get them that neat on its new cars.
Unsurprisingly, the engine also is far from standard. It started out life as a 4.2-litre Jaguar straight-six, but that wasn’t good enough for E-Type UK’s engineers. So, they bored the block out to 4.7 litres and filled the extra space with new pistons and rods before bolting on a bang up-to-date electronically controlled cooling system and an utterly gorgeous stainless steel six-branch exhaust manifold.
The top end is pretty special, too. Take a closer look at the picture above. Now count the HT leads. Yep – there are 12, because this E-Type has twin spark ignition like you get on an Alfa Romeo four-cylinder engine from the 1980s and 1990s. Twice as many spark plugs means twice as big a bang and a significant increase in power.
The intake is also quite sneaky. Despite their period appearance, those trumpets poking out of the side of the head aren’t carburettors. It’s a six-port fuel injection system that’s been cleverly designed to look like a set of triple Webers. That means it fuels perfectly and produces more power than a carburetted straight-six E-Type could ever wish for. Much more power.
What are the specs?
Impressive. This 1967 E-Type roadster produces a scarcely believable 430bhp and 390lb ft of torque. To put that into perspective, that’s 42bhp and 60lb ft more than you get from an entry-level Porsche 911 Carrera. Team that with the E-Type’s bantamweight construction and I reckon the old timer would absolutely monster the porker on clean tarmac.
Sadly, E-Type UK couldn’t give me many specs on the car. As it belongs to one of its customers, the company’s engineers weren’t keen on finding the limits of the car’s performance on greasy Kent roads in the middle of winter. But my arse-dyno tells me it’ll get from 0–62mph in ‘not very long at all’ before reaching a top speed of ‘holy hell, I’m faster than everything else in the county.’
How does it drive?
It’s magnificent, but I left E-Type UK’s facility with a heavy heart. Driving this restomod was a sobering reminder of just how badly the car industry has lost its way. I’d almost forgotten how nimble cars used to be – and my soul ached once the realisation set in that nothing you can buy today feels this alive or playful.
I’ll start with the engine as that’s arguably the most impressive part of this E-Type. The surprises started the second I turned the key, as it roared into life on the first click. It didn’t grumble at all – the ECU simply clocked the density of the freezing winter air, chucked the correct amount of fuel at the cylinders and the engine barked into life. Magic.
The next thing that struck me was the throttle response. E-Type UK could have fitted the intake with a fly-by-wire throttle, but that would have added a load of unwanted dough to the pedal. For maximum period accuracy points, this cyberpunk injection setup is controlled by a cable attached to your foot – and it’s wonderful. It’s snappy. Minutely adjustable. Unwaveringly obedient. Everything a new car’s throttle isn’t.
And bloody hell, is it fast. Classic cars aren’t supposed to have this much poke but, if you can get that harem of horsepower onto the tarmac through those skinny rear tyres, you’ll be in the neighbouring parish before you have a chance to check your speed. It’s a proper Q-car.
The exhaust note is intoxicating, too. It surprisingly subdued below 2,000rpm – but it clears its throat at around 3,000rpm before climbing onto the cam and soaring its way up to 6,000rpm, tunefully trumpeting like the Salvation Army’s rendition of ‘Abide with Me.’
And I could tell the engine wanted to rev much harder, which is testament to how well E-Type UK has screwed it together. The valves were a long way from floating on their seats and there was no ignition breakdown thanks to that twin-spark head – but I glanced over at the expression on the face of my minder in the passenger seat and decided discretion was the better part of valour. Turns out I was right. He waited until we’d parked up before turning to me and saying: ‘nobody’s revved her that hard yet.’ Oops.
The gearbox deserves a special mention. It’s a five-speed unit from a later model Jag and its ratios are very well-matched to the engine. Second and third’s where all the power is, while fifth quietens the engine down enough to allow you cruise on the motorway in comfort. Fourth is great for when you need a little squirt to zip past a dawdling wagon.
Predictably, given how well executed this restomod is, the gearbox’s action is lovely. It’s heavy – you need to shove from your shoulder to get third from second – but there’s no slop in the shifter at all, and every gear makes a deliciously satisfying mechanical clunk as you hammer the cog home.
The handling is equally entertaining, simply because it’s so playful. Almost every new car on sale today has far more grip than power, but this E-Type’s the other way around. As I’ve mentioned, the tyres offer barely enough traction to corral the engine’s power in a straight line – and the fact that most of the car’s weight is over the front end means it’ll happily wag its tail for as long as you’re prepared to keep your foot in the firewall.
But while the rubber might not be able to contain the power, the chassis certainly can. There’s no scuttle shake, no axle tramp and hardly any flex in the floor – even when you’re being apish with the gas (and that’d be impressive for even a brand-new drop-top). You can also make that front-biased weight balance work to your advantage by curing understeer with a boot full of throttle and tickle of opposite lock. Just like at Goodwood.
Final point and then I’ll stop gushing. The ride quality is sublime. It’s just stiff enough to stop you from falling over the doors and onto the tarmac when you’re throwing shapes, but compliant enough to drive all the way across Europe. Plus, the rear end doesn’t squat into the tarmac over dips like the worn-out classics I’m used to driving.
In case you haven’t realised yet, I’m infatuated. I want one.
What about the interior?
It’s a work of art. It wears the same colours and materials as it did when it left the Jaguar factory in 1967, but it’s been sympathetically updated for the needs of modern world.
The seats are a little more padded and offer greater support; that period-looking radio can pick up 21st Century digital channels and the dials in the centre of the dash give you more info about what’s happening under the bonnet. Which is useful when your engine’s worth more than a new BMW 5 Series.
The ergonomics are excellent. Getting seated requires the flexibility and dexterity of a trapeze artist, as you need to thread your leg through the two-inch gap between the wheel and the seat before hoiking it up to the height dashboard to allow the rest of your body to collapse into the cabin. Once you’re in, though, it’s bob on.
The seats are nice and low, the steering wheel is right in your chest and there was acres of room in the footwell for me to stretch my legs out (which I certainly wouldn’t have guessed given how dinky the E-Type looks when you’re standing next to it).
If I had to be critical, the brake pedal is a little too far away from the throttle. That meant I couldn’t heel and toe the car when downshifting, which felt a little unkind to the drivetrain. There’s also nowhere to put your left foot when it isn’t on the clutch, but my minder told me that problem’s exclusive to left-hand drive E-Types. So, E-Type UK, can I have mine in right-hand drive, please?
Verdict
Do I really need to spell this out? This a truly stunning iteration of the E-Type and, if you have the means, you should contact E-Type UK immediately and have them build you one. I’ve got the workshop on speed dial. The second my lottery numbers come up, I’m putting in an order.
Perhaps the only issue with the car (to the non-enthusiast) is the price. E-Type UK told me that, if it were to put this E-Type up for sale, it couldn’t settle for any less than £300,000. That shunts it firmly into the same price bracket as a Lamborghini Huracan STO, McLaren 750S and Porsche 911 GT3. Punchy.
But, having been fortunate enough to drive those cars, I can confidently say I’d overlook them all for a chance to own one of these. Those supercars are undeniably brilliant, but they’re nowhere near as exciting or engaging as this restomod. They’re positively docile by comparison – and none offer the same level of exquisite craftsmanship.
I don’t know about you but, if I was spending upwards of a quarter of a million pounds on my next car, I’d expect more than just an expensive appliance. I’d want something special. And that’s exactly what you’re getting here.
Yes, this Jag isn’t anywhere near as safe as the cars in the same price bracket – nor is it as easy to pedal quickly – but that’s not the reason why you’d buy it. You buy it because you enjoy being knee-deep in the experience of driving.
Once you’ve learned this old Jag’s quirks, it’ll reward you with enough performance to make a mockery of the modern sports cars that have followed in its wake. Plus, unlike a normal E-Type, it’ll work every time you take it out of the garage.
For me, that lot’s worth its weight in gold. Wouldn’t you agree?