Land Rover Defender Octa review: the supreme off-roader that doubles as a supercar

There are days that test a vehicle’s limits and then there are days that test your soul. Driving the new Land Rover Defender Octa through the Cheviot Hills – an overlooked swell of border country wilderness between England and Scotland – proved to be a bit of both. This trip was one-part press junket, one-part personal pilgrimage and one-part weather roulette. Spring sunshine, summer haze, autumn drizzle and a full-on winter tantrum – served à la carte, sometimes simultaneously.

But we’d come prepared. The Defender flagship, Octa, is Land Rover’s newest attempt to convince you that yes, you can be both a rugged outdoors person and someone who alphabetises their spice rack at home in the Cotswolds.

What does Octa stand for?

Lest you should wonder, the name ‘Octa’ refers to the octahedral geometry of diamonds – apparently because this is the toughest, most precious Defender yet – though it’s also a subtle wink to those of us who love a bit of sparkle and a bit of rough.

With a twin-turbo, mild-hybrid V8 sourced from BMW, be in no doubt the Octa has brought a gun to a knife fight. It delivers a whopping 635 horsepower, which is a touch excessive for a vehicle originally conceived to tow a horsebox or rescue stranded hill-walkers. But it’s absolutely glorious.

“It’s as quick as you’d imagine, but sounds naughtier than you’d expect”

Our journey began at the foot of the Cheviots, where stone walls snake lazily across the landscape. The Octa – wearing matt paint like a perfectly tailored wax jacket – stood ready for action. We needed no second bidding, climbed aboard, and on the smooth tarmac of the early stages of the test route stretched the car’s legs and lungs. It’s as quick as you’d imagine, but sounds naughtier than you’d expect. We like very much.

Off-road beckons, though. We begin with an ascent on a loose gravel track that the Defender took in its stride, its 6D Dynamics suspension smoothing out every rut as though taught etiquette at a finishing school. A bouncy climb made unremarkable.

“Leather, Alcantara, Body and Soul seats that pulse to the music”

A mile in, the sun was out, the birds were singing, and from up here Julie Andrews was warming up. That lasted all of seven minutes. A sudden gust of wind threw a sheet of rain sideways across the valley and into our open window with such force it might as well have been personal. Inside the cabin, however, it remained mostly serene. Leather, Alcantara, Body and Soul seats that pulse to the music and bronze accents throughout will do that, giving the interior the air of a gentlemen’s country club – though one where they serve kombucha and host queer film nights on Wednesdays.

The Octa, bang on brand, is absurdly capable off-road. At one point, we crested a boggy ridge where the only signs of life were a disgruntled sheep and a stone bothy clinging to existence. The Defender shrugged off deep ruts and axle-twisting dips and, with low range engaged and a flick into ‘Rock Crawl’ mode, it felt momentarily like a Range Rover in drag: all grace, no nonsense, and surprisingly sure-footed in six inches of slop.

“The steering has heft but isn’t agricultural; the ride is firm but never punishing”

Descending was no less theatrical. The Defender’s brakes – beefed-up Brembos with the kind of calipers you usually see on hypercars – bit firmly, even on wet rock. And while most off-roaders under this kind of duress give up any pretence of on-road civility, the Octa doesn’t. The steering has heft but isn’t agricultural; the ride is firm but never punishing. My guess is that it secretly loves ABBA and makes excellent risotto, too.

By the time we reached the valley floor again, the weather had cycled back around to balmy, and we were peeling off waterproofs like Beyoncé at the halfway point of a Vegas residency. Mud spattered our boots, sheep stared us down, and the Defender idled with that calm, bassy purr that only serious engineering (and money) can produce.

Is the Land Rover Defender Octa worth the cost?

But it’s not just the astounding performance that lingers. The Octa is, somehow, more endearing than most cars I’ve driven this past decade. Yes, it’s ridiculously powerful, and yes, it costs more than a one-bedroom flat in Newcastle. But it’s also filled with little touches: cooled and/or heated seats, an interior that can be hosed down (for reasons I won’t question) and software that adapts to any terrain in any weather. It’s a vehicle that says, “I’ll climb a mountain, but I also packed oat milk.”

So, would I recommend it? Wholeheartedly, if you’ve got £148k burning a hole in your Moncler parka. It’s too much car for most people, but if you live where the weather has commitment issues and the roads go bad at the drop of a cloud, the Defender Octa might just be the brute you’ve been waiting for. For me, if you were allowed only one car in which to do everything, forever, this would be it.

After all, what’s better than four seasons in one day? Surviving them to do it all again tomorrow.

This feature appears in issue 366 of Attitude.