This is not a big cabin, not even by the standards of small supercars, and especially disappointing given the sizable shadow the SLR casts. Taller drivers will curse the lack of elbow room and never exit without stumbling over the door sill. However, one six-feet four member of our test team was comfortable enough: his head close to, but not touching, the headlining.
Is this the safest car ever made? Could well be, with massive integral strength from the carbon tub, a full set of airbags (including knee bags that shoot out from under the dash) and a peerless set of brakes. And it’s all overseen by Mercedes’ traction and stability control systems.
Tyre and suspension noise are so pronounced that above 140mph conversation is impossible. It’s also the most surface- sensitive car we’ve ever tested; on quality bitumen you might as well be in an SL55, but over concrete sections it’s as if someone’s put a recording of a belt-sander in the CD player and wound the volume up.
Then again, accepting a bit of noise from the tyres and those side-mounted exhausts is a small price to pay for having a 200mph car with boot space for two golf bags and excellent climate control. We can’t think of any other supercar with steering wheel-mounted stereo and computer controls. Or cruise control. Or a phone with an emergency connection to the factory.
It costs more than £300,000, so running costs are largely irrelevant. Still, anyone wanting one will need to be asset rich to afford the fuel bill. Our first brimmed tank included a tough track session, but the 97.6-litre tank was gobbled in just 153 miles. That’s an average of 7.12mpg. Even at a lope the SLR rarely climbs beyond 14mpg. Cost implications pale next to the curtailed range, though; it’s a big old tank but even going moderately fast you’re unlikely to see much more than 250 miles in a stint. A proper GT needs to run further between fills.