The Driver
Own a Ferrari? That’s something I have never done, but I have driven quite a few. I’m not really sure I could pull off Ferrari ownership. The cars attract such attention, especially when painted in ‘retail red’, and if I ever bought one I’d have to change my wardrobe. Wearing an old tweed jacket and suede chukka boots just doesn’t cut it. It would have to be Loro Piana cashmere all round and I’m not prepared to spend that sort of loot on jumpers, fur-lined gilets and slacks.
But there’s an undeniable fabulousness to any Ferrari. Yes, the modern ones do scream ‘Me, Me, Me!’ but, unlike with some other flash supercars, you can tell the owners really do love their Maranello steeds. Their thrill is evident every time they take them out for a yowl, be it down the King’s Road or along Rodeo Drive. And have you ever seen a dirty new Ferrari? They are always immaculate, having just been leathered down for their big reveal.
Actually there is an exception, not counting the classic racing and Mille Miglia Ferraris. About 15 years ago I spied an ’80s Testarossa pulling out of a smart Kensington mews. It was absolutely filthy, red paint faded and scarred, mud sprayed up those side vents, beer cans and maps discarded on the dashboard, bloke with a shock of Boris Johnson-type blond hair at the wheel. He muscled it over the cobble stones and squirted away at full throttle. That was cool – the guy was treating a semisacred Testarossa like a Nissan minicab. Maybe he was just an oaf but I like to think he was an aristo using the careworn motor to drive down to the shooting estate because Mummy had purloined the Range Rover.
The most recent Ferrari I have driven is the 599. Absolutely magnificent. It makes any driver into an automotive legend. It is easy to drive really fast, it’s comfortable, spacious and, er, man-sized. One Ferrari I don’t get, though, is the diminutive Dino. Yes, very pretty, but it’s cramped, you can’t really see out of it, it’s badly put together and has a sticktious gearshift, you have to rev the nuts off it and it rusts like a Lancia Beta parked at the seaside. That practical old Porsche 911 does the gig a whole lot better. Dinos have by now all been restored numerous times – so they are mostly in perfect running condition – but the money they command today seems nonsensical to me.
The more affordable 308, on the other hand, is a little gem. Sharp, accurate, balanced, beautiful and underrated. I drove one years ago in Sydney. Rory Johnston of Classic Throttle Shop let us road test a perfect cream 308 Vetroresina, the light glassfibre job with a dry-sump engine and Weber carburettors. I remember finding it far more rewarding than the ubiquitous 911 and was amazed at the fit and finish. I’m not sure it was actually any lighter than a standard steel one but it was utterly fabulous on the road and behaved impeccably, accompanied by the the induction roar of those carbs and the fruity V8 exhaust note.
In many instances, the older the Ferrari, the better for our driving needs. That’s why ’60s and ’70s cars now command such strong prices. After all, what can you actually do with the modern hypercars of today? As the late Alan Clark wrote: ‘Killjoys used to say, what’s the point? Where can you use the performance? To which the correct answer is, just leave that bit to me.’ Of course there are plenty of track days, and modern Ferraris are so easy to drive you can use them to go shopping or posing with effortless ease. And on the right road they can indeed be motoring nirvana.
In truth, the only Ferrari I have ever really wanted is a 365 GTB/4. It has the appearance of a gentleman’s gran turismo, but the stonk of 352bhp at 7500rpm from its 4.4-litre V12 promises a top speed of 170mph. The Daytona used to be viewed as a big Ferrari, but by today’s inflated standards it’s narrow, neat and Pininfarina-beautiful. Some think of it as a heavy lorry but, as the knowledgeable owners explain in our cover feature, that’s not the case with a good, correctly set-up example. I’ve had the good fortune to drive a Daytona alongside a later Lamborghini Countach. The Lambo is a blast but it just proves how much better a Daytona is. And as for a Miura, forget it.
The Daytona combines everything you could wish for in a GT car: performance, elegance, comfort, a glorious V12 engine, and decent independent suspension that allows it to cruise at high speed and attack corners with verve. It’s not flashy. It’s simply one of the most resolved, usable and glorious Ferraris ever.
‘HE MUSCLED IT OVER THE COBBLES AND SQUIRTED AWAY, TREATING THE FILTHY TESTAROSSA LIKE A NISSAN MINICAB’