The new 2025 Land Rover Defender 110 on off-road tyres isn’t a car so much as a mobile announcement that you fully intend to conquer whatever lies ahead. It’s the automotive equivalent of showing up to a polite dinner party wearing hiking boots and a grin that says, “I might leave halfway through this to climb something.” And there is no better place to test that philosophy than Chapman’s Peak Drive — the most dramatic ribbon of tarmac clinging to the coast at the bottom tip of Africa, in Cape Town.

You begin in Hout Bay. The Defender stands there idling, tall and square-jawed, looking like a well-built lodge bouncer who has read a few books but still prefers the outdoors. On off-road tyres, it looks even more determined — shoulders squared, stance widened, the visual promise of traction for days. Against the backdrop of cliffs, sea spray, and a sky that can’t decide if it’s theatre or reality, the 110 looks perfectly suited.

Climb in and the cabin greets you with rugged luxury. There are exposed bolts and grab handles everywhere — real ones, designed for clinging onto during misjudged inclines — but the seats are soft, the screens crisp, and the ergonomics suspiciously civilised for something that can wade rivers. It’s the old Defender’s soul but translated into a modern dialect.

Point the nose up the start of Chapman’s Peak, and the transformation begins. The road is famously carved into the mountainside — narrow, winding, and perched above waves that crash with operatic enthusiasm. Older Defenders would have bounced, rattled, and possibly emitted a noise like a filing cabinet falling downstairs. The 2025 version, however, simply settles into a smooth, confident stride. It feels like the mountain should move out of its way, not the other way around.

The steering is relaxed but honest. There’s calmness to how it turns — no fuss, no drama. Those off-road tyres, despite their chunky tread blocks, behave like well-mannered guests. Yes, they hum, and yes, there’s a hint of squirm on tighter bends, but the payoff is the unmistakable sensation that you could abandon the road entirely, point the car at an inconvenient slope, and it would just shrug and climb it.

As you wind through the overhangs, stone tunnels, and cliff-side ledges, the Defender feels like part of the scenery. The ocean blends from deep blue to bright silver as the light shifts. The cliffs tower overhead in crags and layers, weathered and ancient. Below you, waves pound the rocks in slow, rhythmic detonations. And the Defender glides along the edge of all this like a curious, square-shouldered explorer.

Inside, the ride is impressively composed. The air suspension gives you the strange sensation of floating without being disconnected. You feel the shape of the terrain beneath you, not the punishment of it. The old Defender demanded your full attention and a degree of physical suffering; the 2025 version simply asks that you enjoy yourself.

Prod the throttle and the engine — whether you’ve chosen mild-hybrid petrol, diesel, or the new six-cylinder option — delivers a smooth, muscular shove. It’s not a sports car, nor does it pretend to be. But there’s a quiet authority to its acceleration. When you need to pass that hesitant rental car before a blind bend, it does so with the effortless stride of something built to tow, climb, haul, and cross.

Pull into a viewpoint and step out. The Defender 110 looks magnificent here — a modern, squared-off silhouette with a touch of expedition charm. The full-size spare tyre hanging off the tailgate has the same effect as a backpack on a seasoned traveller: you instantly know it’s been places or at least intends to go. It doesn’t look out of place among cliffs, wind, and salt spray. It looks like it came here to take notes.

The interior, too, feels built for adventure rather than mere commuting. Not in the old “military surplus” sense, but in a modern, thoughtful way. The rubberised surfaces, washable floors, and fold-away conveniences all make sense in a world where you might track in sand, mud, or half the beach at Kommetjie. The Defender feels like a place you could live in for a week if the situation demanded it — and enjoy doing so.

On Chapman’s Peak, however, imperfections do reveal themselves. Those off-road tyres, while brilliant off the beaten path, create a steady background rumble. Nothing alarming, more like distant weather. Push hard into a corner, and you can feel the soft sidewalls lean before settling. Again, nothing troublesome,  just a reminder that these tyres were built for conquering rocks, not clipping apexes.

And then there’s the size. The Defender 110 is a substantial thing, and on a road where drops are vertical and passing spaces can feel theatrical, you occasionally find yourself inhaling sharply when a bus approaches from the opposite direction. Thankfully, the visibility is good, the cameras are clear, and the squared corners help you place the car with surprising precision.

But when the traffic clears, and the bends open slightly, the combination becomes something close to magic. The 2025 Defender 110 doesn’t just drive Chapman’s Peak — it elevates it. The commanding seating position, the panoramic windows, the way the ocean appears and disappears with each curve — it turns the entire route into a moving postcard. Not a rugged nature documentary this time, but a premium adventure-travel journal, the sort that makes you wonder why you don’t take long, wandering drives more often.

As sunset approaches, the road glows in amber light. The Defender hums confidently, the shadows stretch across the cliffs, and the sea dissolves into dusk. Inside, ambient lighting paints the cabin in warm colour, and the sense of journey lingers even when the wheels stop turning.

Is the 2025 Land Rover Defender 110 with off-road tyres perfect? Absolutely not. It’s big, it’s thirsty, and you pay handsomely for its talents. But if you’re the kind of person who believes a road trip should feel like an occasion, that a car should expand your world rather than merely transport you within it, the Defender 110 remains one of the best tools ever built.

On Chapman’s Peak, it doesn’t just drive the road — it narrates it. It turns cliffs into scenery, corners into moments, and the person behind the wheel into someone who feels just a little more adventurous than they did before starting the engine.

And that, truly, is the point.

W: JLR

Written by Cindy-Lou Dale for Luxuria Lifestyle International