Travelling. The unfortunate end result of internal combustion and jet propulsion. The scourge of the modern age. It’s dangerous, it’s time-consuming and it’s irretrievably boring.

In the olden days when men wore hats made from wolves, no one wasted their lives by travelling from A to B, because B was too far away. Now, though, people are quite happy to spend 10 hours in an aluminium tube, watching all their veins clog up with lard, simply so they get a tan.

When you are on a plane you are achieving nothing and you are not enjoying yourself, so you are wasting the most precious commodity you have: time. If you’re middle-aged now you only have 200,000 hours left, and are you prepared to spend 20 of those being squashed, plus another 20 waiting to be squashed while someone confiscates your knitting needles? Especially as a recent survey found that, on average, the modern Briton now spends four years of their life in a car. That’s four years moving from place to place. Four years just travelling.

This is why I like cars that are fast. In the same way that an F-15 fighter can enliven air travel, a powerful engine can turn the most tedious slog into an adrenaline rush. I like the feel of g when a quick car accelerates, I like the cornering forces as it slices through the bends, and I love the sense of danger when you pull out to overtake and you’re not sure you’re going to make it.

Drive quickly and you turn the act of travelling into an adventure. You make those four years in a car exciting. You give them a point. And you will arrive at your destination sooner, too, which means you have more time to have fun. Put simply, 500bhp enriches your life.

Unfortunately, our present government has somehow arrived at the conclusion that it’s possible for there to be no accidents at all on the road, and that this can be achieved by removing the thrill of driving. So we’re being watched, and controlled and punished if we break its rules.

What’s more, ministers are saying that if we all drive around in Toyota Priuses at 17mph we will not only save ourselves but the planet as well. They cannot see the car as a thrill machine. They view it simply as an alternative to public transport. And as a result it is becoming increasingly difficult these days to hurtle round a corner, because hidden in a bush on the other side is a civil servant in a van.

So, if we can’t go quickly in a bid to make travelling more fruitful, then we must turn our attention to other alternatives. And that brings me neatly on to the question of club class.

Flying in the front of an aeroplane does not make the journey pass any more quickly but at least you don’t have to spend 10 hours with your face in a fat man’s armpit. The jump in price from economy to club is vast but there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s worth every penny.

So does this apply on the road, I wonder? Is it worth spending £300,000 on a Rolls-Royce Phantom or a Maybach? Are they really three times better than a Mercedes S 55 AMG? And is the last word in automotive luxury a realistic alternative to power and speed and excitement? We shall begin with the Maybach 62, which nosed through the gates to my house, as requested, at 7.30am. The rear arrived about 40 minutes later. It is a vast car this, more than 20ft long and almost 6½ft wide.

So I think it’s fair to call the back-seat area generous. It’s so generous in fact that stretched out on one of the airline-style seats my legs did not even touch the partition that separates those in the rear from the driver.

With barely a sound, the twin-turbocharged V12 engine whispered into life and off we went, with me already starting to experiment. After a while I had one television set showing a sat nav display and the other showing breakfast news. Then I found the fridge, the button to move the headrest just so, and both the mobile phones.

And then I found the roof. It’s made of photochromatic glass, which at the twiddle of a switch can be fully frosted, very frosted, not frosted at all or completely opaque. I liked playing with this feature. In fact by the time I was bored with it we were in west London, at a set of lights where many eastern European builders were hanging around waiting to be picked up by contractors.

I don’t think they liked me very much, so I pushed another button and closed all the curtains.

Ah, the curtains. They were hideous, unless your name is Hyacinth Bucket and even your bog-roll cosy is rouched. In fact, come to think of it, the whole car was hideous. The exterior styling, the polished wood, the chromed uplighters. It was like one of those really expensive cabin cruisers that back up to the harbour wall in St Tropez.

What’s more, in a brief idle moment I caught sight of the dashboard on which, picked out in the finest plastic, was the legend “SRS Airbag”. Just like you find on a Mercedes S-class. And that’s the Maybach’s biggest problem. When all is said and done, and there’s much to say and lots to do, it is only an elongated Mercedes. So I always think of it as bespoke tailoring from Marks & Spencer. Fine I’m sure, but not quite the same as bespoke tailoring from Rolls-Royce.

There’s a lot less to do in the back of the Phantom, even the new long-wheelbase version I tried. This is 10in longer than the standard car and about £30,000 more expensive. That’s £3,000 an inch and that’s expensive. Every day I receive e-mails offering me extra inches for a lot less.

But when you climb into the back of this car and wade through an acre of thick pile carpet to your seat, let me tell you, it feels very good. Stepping out of the Maybach into this is like stepping out of a Sunseeker Camargue 47 and into the library at Blenheim Palace. Only with the most fabulous art deco fixtures and fittings.

Despite the BMW ownership these days, there’s nothing on the dash to suggest that this is anything but pure Rolls-Royce. You don’t have a rev counter, for instance. Instead you get a dial telling you how much power the engine has in reserve. Even at speed it usually reads 95%.

I’m sure the Phantom has an airbag but there’s no sign advertising the fact. It’s probably a brown paper bag and arrives in the cabin after a discreet “Ahem”.

My test car was fitted with a Stuart. The Stuart’s ability to accelerate and brake without causing my champagne to fall over was remarkable, and in direct contrast to the Gary that was installed in the Maybach. The Gary hustled. If you’re in a hurry you need a Gary. The Stuart drove like a Buddhist butler.

And that sums up how the cars feel. In the Maybach you sense all the time that you’re connected to the road, that you’re in a car. Whereas in the Rolls you get the sense that you’ve been picked up by a huge velvet glove. In the Maybach I played. In the Rolls I dozed.

It had a computer and televisions, of course. But if I were to buy a Phantom I’d specify it with a nice coal fire and a chimney. It already comes with wingbacks.

I spent four wonderful days being driven around in these monsters and can report that they are a realistic alternative to speed. Yes, you can get home faster in a Ferrari, but in the back of a Maybach or a Phantom you are doing what you’d be doing at home anyway. Sitting back, watching the news, with a glass of something chilled.

Are they worth three times more than a top S-class Mercedes? Oh, absolutely. In the same way that a Gulfstream V is worth a damn sight more than a Piper Cherokee. And now we arrive at the big one. Which is best? I’ve mocked the Maybach for being a jumped-up Mercedes, but that’s unfair. The sheer volume of gadgetry in its rear quarters means you quickly forget you’re on Mercedes suspension, behind a Mercedes engine. It is a wonderful way to travel if you are a northern businessman or a Kuwaiti or you have the mental age of a six-year-old. Which is not a criticism, by the way.

However, I would choose the Rolls. I like the engineering, I like the style, I absolutely adore the looks, but most of all I love the sensation that you’re inside something that was designed to be “the best car in the world”. I think, though, it’s more than that. I think that in these difficult and dark days it’s actually the best way to travel.

VITAL STATISTICS

Model Maybach 62
Engine V12, 5513cc
Power 550bhp @ 5250rpm
Torque 664 lb ft @ 3000rpm
Transmission Five-speed auto
Fuel 15.9mpg (combined)
CO2 N/A
Acceleration 0-62mph: 5.4sec
Top speed 155mph
Price £298,800
Verdict A very posh Merc is still a Merc
Rating 3/5

Model Rolls-Royce Phantom Engine V12, 6749cc
Power 453bhp @ 5350rpm
Torque 531 lb ft @ 3500rpm
Transmission Six-speed auto
Fuel 17.8mpg
CO2 385g/km
Acceleration 0-60mph: 5.7sec
Top speed 149mph
Price Not yet available
Verdict Bespoke driving style with impeccable taste
Rating 4/5

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