Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Bugati Veyron

Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron

Bugati Veyron
I met my chaperone for the half day I had the car, Bugatti "factory pilot" Butch Leitzinger, deep in Veyron territory at a marina-side ­hotel in Greenwich, Conn., a community where the mighty oak of deep-rooted old money still stands proud, unbowed by the tempest. At one point, as we navigated our way among the fortress dry-stone walls standing guard for mansion after mansion, we were stalked by an elegant woman looking right at home at the wheel of a Maserati Quattroporte and surrounded by her wide-eyed, pointing, beaming brood of youngsters. She stayed on our tail through countless lefts and rights, and the angel on one of my shoulders agreed how good it felt to share the Veyron's existence on a public road. The fork-tail on the other shoulder goaded, "Dump the kids, schweedart; I've only got this thing till two o'clock." Landscape crews grinned and hoisted their thumbs. One fellow leaned out of his truck's cab and yelled at us to make sure we had the roof on because rain was coming.
The market for the Veyron dipped between mid-2008 and the middle of last year. "People had the money then but they were reluctant to show it," noted Leitzinger, "but it's bounced back in the past year."

 Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron
 Bugati Veyron

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