Porsche Panamera Turbo E-Hybrid

Porsche Panamera Turbo E-Hybrid | Test Drive

3 June 2025 Redazione News, Stories, Tested

Now entering a bend, now coming out of it. The Panamera remains as flat as a marble table. When you are more focused on the driving than on experience amplifiers like sound and landscape outside the window, it means things are serious.

If you’re expecting yet another clinical review of the new Panamera, you might as well close the magazine now. And if you’re hoping to find a compelling reason to ask for your GT3 deposit back, you’d better get comfortable. Blasphemy? Perhaps. Have I completely lost my mind? Not even close. Honestly, if someone had said that to me just a few hours ago, I might have considered throwing a right hook straight to their nose—but after what I’m about to tell you, even the most entrenched belief that a big, heavy sedan can’t rival a supercar starts to crumble.

The impartial judge: a mountain road made treacherous by temperatures swinging between +2°C and -3°C, loose gravel, heaps of salt desperately trying to prevent dangerous ice patches, and a carefully planned route covering several hundred kilometers designed to test the potential of the third-generation Porsche Panamera. But without even realizing it, I found myself right in the middle of Plan B. Ah yes, Plan B—that so-called backup plan which, truth be told, is actually your main goal disguised as an alternative to justify doing things the “correct” way. We’ll get into that shortly.

I still remember driving the first Panamera of my life—also the first generation ever made. Wrapping my head around a new Porsche concept was made even trickier by the fact that it had a diesel engine. But it only took a few hours behind the wheel to realize it was an extraordinary car, one that thought outside the box and, once experienced, had no trouble justifying its existence—even in the shadow of the immortal 911. A decade ago, comparisons were inevitable. Everything revolved around the 911 Carrera, regardless of the practicality of usable rear seats or the dynamic handling that made it a serious contender among high-performance sedans. That Stuttgart badge wasn’t there by accident.

Now in its third generation, the notion that Porsche makes more than just 2-seat (or 2+2) coupes is universally accepted. We’ve had the Macan, fourteen different versions of the Cayenne, and the brand’s first 100% electric vehicle—the Taycan—which wisely borrows the naming structure of Porsche’s combustion-powered lineup to avoid confusing its clientele. Then there’s the Panamera. Personally, I was sorry to see the Sport Turismo go—one of the best daily drivers ever, in my opinion—but as always, the market pulls the strings.

There’s no set time when it becomes clear where you are, but with a Porsche, it all comes down to one curve. You can drive hours on the highway feeling like you’re behind the wheel of any luxury sedan—but the moment you switch to Sport mode and leave the toll booths behind, your body immediately senses inputs so precise that you’re instantly reminded: “I’m in a Porsche.” The asphalt—what’s left of it under the dirt and salt—winds its way between two snow walls carved out of the frozen winter. Snowfall has been generous, but fluctuating temperatures helped keep the roads clear, creating a stark contrast between white snow and grey tarmac. All I had to do was pick a direction and drive—curves as far as the eye can see.

And so I did what had to be done—especially with a full tank of fuel and a full charge of electrons. Yes, this isn’t just one of the new Panameras—it’s one of the most powerful ones: the Turbo E-Hybrid. It celebrates the turbocharged V8 while adding a plug-in electric unit, for a combined total of 680 horsepower and 930 Nm of torque. But who really needs that much power in such a discreet sedan? No one—or almost no one. But once you’ve tried it, you can’t live without it. The first acceleration doesn’t even feel like much—because it starts in EV mode. If you want to save electricity, just twist the dial on the right side of the steering wheel and switch to Hybrid.

The 8-speed PDK transmission needs no introduction. Despite its already legendary efficiency, it keeps evolving. The paddle shifters remain compact, but their weight and responsiveness are impressive. I watch the tachometer—the redline is at 6,800 rpm—so clearly the only real limits are the road and that annoying thing called self-preservation instinct. Maybe I can turn that off. I try. A straight stretch of road opens up, and I slam my right foot down. Some might say it feels like taking off—but they’d be wrong. The Turbo E-Hybrid showcases not just one but several of its strongest qualities—three, four, maybe five… or six or seven. Too many to count, really.

The acceleration is breathtaking. The all-wheel drive claws at the pavement while the Pirelli Sottozeros do acrobatics to keep you on course. The 4.0-liter engine screams behind me, exhaling through two sets of exhaust tips. Sure, we could nitpick that it’s not as loud as it could be—but honestly, I’m too focused on gripping the wheel, which I wish were just a bit thicker. Despite the poor road surface, there’s not a hint of imprecision—the Panamera puts down all its power with ease. The stats nerds will say 0–100 km/h in 3.2 seconds or 0–200 in 11.3—but here, in the cold of a mountain road, it feels like flying at 300 km/h. And yes, that’s a speed it can actually reach: 315 km/h. Touché.

Yes, it’s incredibly comfortable. It has heated and ventilated seats, a massive digital touchscreen above a haptic climate-control panel, and it’s not all about the driver—your passenger gets their own touchscreen too. And thanks to a clever trick, the display is only visible from the passenger side, so no distracting reflections for the driver. If, like me, you’ve hurt your back just reaching for a Nutella jar on the bottom shelf, you’ll appreciate the suspension system that raises the car by 5.5 cm for easier access.

And that’s not all. The standout feature is something called Active Ride. It’s a hydraulic system with a pump on each wheel, offering fully independent control of weight distribution. In simpler terms: when you accelerate hard, the hood doesn’t lift; when you brake hard, the front end doesn’t dive; and when you take a corner at speeds that would alarm a responsible parent, the chassis stays flat—adjusting on the fly to let this big sedan move with an agility that would make a 911 blush.

This is the moment when any true Porsche purist (myself included) would cry heresy. But not this time—because sensations like these are rare, especially in a shrinking sedan segment where those who remain have to push the limits with wild tech and unconventional solutions. Screens, LEDs, and flashy design will one day go out of style—but driving pleasure is a universal language, something every enthusiast understands. And with Porsche, passion and driving are one and the same. Maybe I’ve lost my mind—or maybe that’s just my excuse for diving into the endless switchbacks of the Colle della Maddalena.

On the French side, kissed by sun yet still dripping icy water onto the road, steering requires twice the usual effort. Like a Brianza-born karate kid, I fall into a trance: “turn in, power out”—and she, the Panamera, stays flat as a slab of Carrara marble. The exhaust pops a little—but I hardly notice. When you’re more focused on the drive than the sound system or the view, you know it’s getting serious.

I go up, down, and up again—toward Col de Vars, then until a vertical snow wall says “Stop” on the road to Parpaillon. Where only skiers dare and where SUVs reign supreme, I do a U-turn just to dive back into the fray, brawling with corners and defying the laws of physics that say something this heavy should just crash with a thud. The Porsche seating position hasn’t changed—you’re cocooned, one with the car. That intimacy helps you make peace with the Panamera’s generous dimensions. Aesthetic overhaul aside, its size is roughly the same as the previous generation.

I convince myself there’s still more to wring out—so I dial in Sport Plus, the most aggressive setting. It’s unreal. Let’s be honest—how can something this big, this heavy, maintain this pace in these conditions, on winter tires? It defies nature. And I bloody love it. In fact, it’s addictive. Makes me wonder how others could possibly keep up, assuming that’s even remotely possible, without the tech packed into this car.

The weight? You never feel it. The steering-to-wheel connection? Razor sharp. The road is smooth but full of undulations—normally a nightmare at speed. But not today. With no traffic in sight, I push toward the car’s true limits—sometimes forgetting I could have four passengers and all their luggage. And they’d scream—if they could hear anything. Cabin insulation is fantastic, enhancing comfort and turning this already surreal experience into something truly otherworldly. Every curve is a hot knife through butter. A clean cut you don’t even feel. Like ripping off a Band-Aid—fast and painless—until you find yourself facing another mountain pass.

Meanwhile, the tank doesn’t even beg for mercy. In those few calmer moments, the hybrid system recharges the battery and devours city kilometers in full electric mode.

Because yes, the Panamera is also for those who don’t want to shake up their insides every time they go out. The Turbo E-Hybrid sits at the top of the food chain—surpassed only by the insane Turbo S E-Hybrid, which adds another 100 hp to the madness for four—or five, depending on how you spec it. As you can imagine, none of this comes cheap. The Turbo E-Hybrid starts at €201,000, and with options—of which there are many—this particular test car comes in at €247,000. Which brings us full circle: these are no longer sedan prices, however good the sedan may be.

This is super-luxury, supercar territory. So the question naturally arises: this or a 911 GT3? This or a Bentley Flying Spur? In my personal wonderland, I’d take all three—plus a few Italian thoroughbreds. Still trying to figure out why dealerships won’t accept Monopoly money. And if you had to pick just one?