Land Rover Defender 110S

WHEN the invitation to go and drive the new Defender finally arrived, there was concern at Flindt Towers: I’d been allocated the Glorious Twelfth. If I wasn’t in my combine harvester, I’d surely be on a northern moor. But, come the day, the harvest gods smiled and there was nothing fit to harvest, and dozens of shoot invites had once again failed to arrive.

So, having loaded a couple of lorries with what I hoped would be malting barley, I headed up the A34 with a clear conscience. But I was still troubled. How should I approach this new machine? With awe and reverence at the rebirth of a great