Tesla Model S vs Rolls-Royce Ghost

What's the difference?

I spoke to a friend who bought a Model S before one had even hit the ground here in Australia. He chuckled when I told him how much this car cost but then said something I'd already suspected. "My mates who own a P100D would never drop that kind of money on a normal car. Buying a Tesla is like buying shares in the company, you're buying into the future."

And that's kind of the point. A $300,000 Audi RS7 (fully-loaded, obviously) is a bit slower in a straight line, looks just as good, is extremely well-built and emits noises that make people like me go as weak at the knees (just as the Model S' acceleration does). And would probably win a 10 lap race with the Tesla around Mount Panorama.

The Tesla is the future of cars. It may still be decades before the internal combustion engine is gone, but Tesla buyers are getting the jump, and today the Model S is the best car in which to make that leap.

In a disruptive era when the coachbuilder has pivoted to SUVs like the Cullinan, a sort of London black cab that’s been dipped in opulence, and succeeds despite itself, and the brand’s grand, million-dollar EV, the Spectre, the Ghost is a safe and familiar space. 

A beautiful, long, broad, immaculate land boat. It’s a space Rolls inhabits with relish. 

The Ghost Series II feels nothing like a track-day option when you’re behind the wheel. But it might do if you were stepping out of a Phantom. Or a Cullinan. Or a Wraith. Especially if you’re stepping out of the back doors. 

It’s the perfect driver’s car. As long as all your other cars are also Rolls-Royces. 

The Model S is definitely the looker of the three Tesla models on sale (the Model 3 might be some way from release, but you can reserve one and it's... weird-looking). With a slinky, Jaguar XF/Audi A7 roofline and low-slung stance, it looks the business. Like the X, the detailing of the car's surfacing and panel gaps aren't where other $200,000+ cars are, but it has improved a lot over the last couple of years.

The cabin has improved even more than the exterior.

The styling is quite sparse, really. Teslas look like computer renders in real life, especially in white, with little in the way of jewellery or detailed design elements. And that's probably the idea. It's a cleaner design than when first launched, with a simpler, flatter snout that brings out the headlights better.

The cabin has improved even more than the exterior. It's still the same minimalist design, but it fits together much more tightly than it used to. The 17.0-inch portrait screen is still there in its central but skewed-to-the-driver position and is now up to version 8. It's an impressive interface, covering off the vast majority of functions in the car, and is mostly easy to use. The responsiveness is key to its usability. If it was underpowered, you'd quickly start demanding real buttons.

Yes, its exterior is more monolithic than before. The previous iteration was hardly fiddly, but the (apparently client driven) evolution here edges ever so gracefully towards what Rolls-Royce might secretly think of as brutalism.

The Ghost Series II’s generous 2148mm width is further emphasised up front, stretched across its upright prow, with slimline headlights adding definition and — surprisingly — a touch of villainy.

New, Spectre-inspired tail lamps and a discreetly inscribed double ‘R’ monogram add a reserved flourish from behind, and buyers can choose from two new 22-inch, nine-spoke wheel designs.

It’s subtle, no doubt. But it’s also impeccable.

The Model S is a rare car in this class in that it has an almost completely flat floor, meaning rear seat passengers don't have to negotiate a transmission tunnel. The two motors run physically independently of each other so there's no crankshaft to get in the way.

The floor is thicker than a normal car, it's like a big skateboard underneath. That means your knees are up higher, which might cause numb bum on a long trip. The rear seats are comfortable enough, but middle seat occupants might feel like the outboard passengers are falling into them.

With all that torque, when you do load it up, the extra kilos barely make a dent on the performance.

The view out isn't too bad given the rising window line, and if you've got the big two piece sunroof (without cover, irritatingly... ), it's quite airy out back. And hot (with the sunroof), but you do get rear air-con vents.

The boot is an eminently sensible 744 litres with the seats up and 1795 with the seats down, although the floor doesn't fold flat. While it's a big boot, it's relatively shallow so your suitcases go in on their sides. Up in the front boot (or froot) there's another 150 litres, so you can pack a lot in to the Model S. And with all that torque, when you do load it up, the extra kilos barely make a dent on the performance.

Inside, yes, there are bonkers touches in this most refined of automotive spaces, such as upholstery pinpricked by 107,000 'Placed Perforations' of 1.2mm in diameter, each individually examined, that replicate the shape of some clouds spotted over Rolls-Royce's Goodwood HQ. 

Beside those flourishes of lunatic opulence, the more practical features feel pedestrian, but they’re comprehensive. The wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, the seamless 'Central Information Display' and the 18-speaker 1400-watt audio, the upgraded Wi-Fi hotspot and the unobtrusive USB-C ports. The rear-seats flush with giant, streaming-optimised screens and heated and ventilated massaging seats.

Rolls acknowledges the generational movement of its clientele from back seat to front, with over 90 per cent of buyers now opting to — gasp! — steer themselves in a Ghost. But with back-seat savoir faire in its DNA, Rolls simply extends its hospitality to every seat.

The Ghost Series II is yours for an indicative price of just $680,000 (or $800K for the Black Badge) plus substantial on-road costs. The Ghost Series II extended (which we didn’t drive at the international launch in Provence) will slip in at around $20K less than the Black Badge before additional charges. 

If they seem like big numbers, you’re probably the sort of person who looks at price tags, or who shops in shops that put price tags on things. These are not common traits of Rolls-Royce buyers, who may only be vaguely aware of the actual price of their vehicle, and whose historical impression of guillotines is generally unfavourable.

So, high six-hundreds is table stakes.

But you might also think the ‘standard’ Ghost, like all Rolls-Royces, is considered by most buyers to be a mere starting point, from which they’ll typically up-spec their ride from a sumptuous and expensive options list.

Spending another 10 percent of the purchase price on customisation is a bare-bones outlay for most owners, but even so, the evolved Ghost’s out-of-the-box features are so comprehensive as to be almost overwhelming. 

First, because the Ghost has been Rolls-Royce’s driver’s car since the first (modern) generation arrived in 2010, specifically to cater to a weird (for Rolls clientele) new generation of buyers who wanted to drive their Rolls themselves. 

So that price gets you, above all, that proven but superb 6.75-litre twin-turbo V12 engine, massaged via an eight-speed transmission and an AWD system that’s as rich and viscous as Crassus’s last libation.

There’s its subtly tinkered 'flight on land' 'Planar Suspension System' (note the unspoken dissonance between the terms ‘flight on land’ and ‘driver-focused'), with an ingenious 'Satellite Aided Transmission' system that uses GPS to pick the ideal gear with which to launch out of turns.

It works hand-in-velvet-glove with Goodwood's 'Flagbearer' camera system, which tracks the road ahead to chide potholes into submission in advance.

Because it’s a Rolls, though, that’s barely even the start of the story. 

The coachwork is extraordinary, with new trim options including natural open-pore 'Grey Stained Ash' design elements, a sumptuous new bamboo rayon textile called 'Duality Twill'.

There a night-sky inspired illuminated fascia that apes elements of time-lapse celestial photography, part of the central glass panel that stretches the length of the dash. 

Sure, you might expect that level of detail for the outlay. But for the outlay it’s far from missing anything you’d expect.

The P100D ships with two electric motors fed by a huge battery pack which triples as the bulk of the chassis and a super-strong crash structure. It's also shared with the Model X SUV.

Combined power output is 568kW with more of it out the back rather than up front. Torque is quoted at 1000Nm, but it's likely more than that. Claimed 0-100km/h time is a mildly unbelievable 2.7 seconds, with a further two-tenths to be shaved off when you press and hold Ludicrous Mode and accept a warning that you'll wear the car out faster if you use it.

With 'Ludicrous Mode' comes not just software but a higher capacity fuse that allows more power to be drawn from the batteries for longer to provide the searing acceleration.

Rolls doesn’t like acceleration figures — too gauche, darling — but armed with that proven 420kW and 850Nm V12, the Ghost Series II has serious heft. Delivering max torque from 1600rpm — just 600rpm above idle — the effect is genuinely of one endless surge, a wafting cloud of momentum that subtly slips between gears as it exudes itself across the countryside.

The Black Badge edition, like all of its, er, ‘disruptive’ ilk offers a ‘Low’ button (‘Low’ means ‘Sport’ in Rollspeak), which bumps gearshift speeds by 50 percent when you plant your foot, and delivers a distinctly non-Rolls-like pop and burble on overrun. It also provides an extra 21kW and 50Nm, because Black Badge is mean and tough.

Zippo. Obviously with the new rules for Tesla Superchargers, it's not as cheap to own and run a Tesla as it was before (from January 2017, all new orders don't get free juice after the first 400kWh), but if you charge it at home (and can get away with it), it'll probably be cheaper than using Tesla's chargers. If you look, there's a company offering $1 per day charging for electric cars.

If I'd charged the car to 100 percent rather than the 80 percent recommended by Tesla for most charges (past that mark, the charge rate drops and the software has to slow to a trickle, doling out the electrons to the different cells), I would have managed just over 400km on the charge.

Provence is not entirely a driver’s paradise, with every stretch of slightly twisty tarmac only a counterpoint to a motorway lined with Marseille lorries, Depardieu-esque men in tractors who refuse to move to the verge, and small villages where each kerbside corners sit millimetres from the foot of an adjacent boulangerie.

Which is to say it’s neither a place for economy runs, nor a location at which to run up the consumption numbers with a madcap series of impromptu hill climbs.

Our Ghost II drive returned around 16L/100km, which feels about right with that gorilla-in-a-tuxedo 6.75L V12, and is only slightly above the official figures of 15.8L/100km. Not great, could be worse.

The first time I drove a Model S, I enjoyed the acceleration and the silence of the electric motor (this was back in the Dark Ages when even the P90 only had one motor). And that has remained, with the air suspension providing a firm but comfortable ride despite the P100D's 21-inch rims and very low profile tyres. Electric motoring in any electric car is addictive.

Much progress has been made (yes, I'm getting to the acceleration, stay with me) in the way it drives. The earlier cars felt too computer gamey, with little feel through the wheel or the seat of your pants. The steering is better, especially in Sport mode, but not a lot gets through the air suspension, so it takes a while to build confidence in the chassis.

One passenger became quite emotional, almost crying. And not just because they were stuck in a car with me.

On the freeway (look, you can read ahead if you must) it's amazingly quiet, with just a bit of a rustling around the mirrors. Well, of course it's quiet, it's electric. For chassis and NVH (noise, vibration and harshness) squashers, not having the marvellous engine noise means much harder work to dull the other noises you just don't hear when there's an internal combustion engine.

And there's the acceleration. As the driver, you obviously know it's quick. Mash the throttle and the response is instant, the horizon closing in on you like you're attached by a very stretched and immensely strong bungee strap that's just been released. The way cars disappear in your rear vision mirror is hilarious.

It's more fun as a passenger, though. The Model X elicited whooping and laughing, but the P100D's extra 0.6s-worth of acceleration over the P90D, delivered with a truckload more G-force, equals silence. One woman said she was glad I'd caught her before dinner rather than after, before bursting forth with a range of expletives. One passenger became quite emotional, almost crying. And not just because they were stuck in a car with me.

The Ghost Series II drives like a magic carpet, serene and untroubled; in almost any stable other than that of Rolls, calling it a ‘driver’s car’ would have you throttled by their skunkworks. Everything is relative.

Still, it hides its considerable dimensions well. There’s never any doubt that you’re in a large saloon, as you white-knuckle the Ghost’s impeccably appointed steering wheel, but there’s always enough power to deliver creamily instant throttle response, even in the case of initially misjudged cambers. 

Nor can the Black Badge hide the shimmy of that characteristic ‘flight on land’ body drift. The upside is that its manners are impeccable, even through the worst possible pieces of corrugation Provence can deliver. 

If anything, the Ghost Series II’s big-hearted bulk adds to the fun factor, especially in some of Rolls-Royce’s more garish colour options, when gasping South of France MAMILs stare in amazement as a bright yellow, five-and-a-half metre Rolls passes them on the outside, scattering their various baguettes and garlands of onions.

You get airbags, ESC, adaptive cruise, parking sensors and auto parking, and a rear camera. But don’t expect Rolls-Royce to allow the blighters at ANCAP to wreck one.

Tesla offers a four-year/80,000km warranty with a parallel eight year/unlimited kilometre warranty for the battery and drive units. Roadside assist applies for the four year warranty period.

Tesla offers two maintenance plans, three and four years in length. The three year plan costs $2100 and the four year $3175. Paying for the services individually over the same period will cost $2300 and $3425 respectively. That includes a wheel alignment (if needed), but it isn't particularly cheap when compared with 'normal' luxury cars.

Your first 400kW/h of recharging is free using Tesla's supercharger network, so that would be four full charges from empty (which you wouldn't do, obviously), or about 1600km worth. After that, it's 35c per kWh or $35 for a full charge.

Expect just a four-year servicing and warranty offer for Australian customers of this vehicle. So that means an unlimited-mileage warranty, including all services, for the first four years.