THE SUBTLE ART OF NOT GIVING A TOSS
ENRIGHT FINALLY FIGURES OUT HOW TO ENJOY SUPERCAR OWNERSHIP
IDON’T THINK I’m a supercar kind of guy. That might seem an odd admission given that I’ve just enjoyed a long-term tenure with a 570GT, but if I had to summarise my relationship with the Mclaren it would probably fall into the ‘complicated’ category. I never once stopped getting a kick out of seeing it in my garage. When my partner wasn’t looking, I’d often leave the door from the garage to the house open a nick, just to catch a glimpse of that sickle-shaped headlight as I walked between my bedroom and the kitchen.
The 570GT was always a riot to drive, too. There’s something extremely life-affirming about waking up and realising that you’re going to be punting a carbon-tubbed missile with 280kw/ tonne up some amazing country roads
before you start your working day. As our editor, Alex Inwood, noted last month, other people seemed to love the Mclaren too. But here’s the thing. I’m not going to pretend that actually running a Mclaren 570GT is an entirely stress-free experience.
You worry about where to park it when you’re out, you’re always wondering if somebody’s going to dint it, you’re hypersensitive to scraping the nose on bumpy roads, or damaging an alloy in a pothole, or birdlime damaging the paint. You get paranoid about sea salt on wet swim gear going anywhere near anything made of leather, and you sometimes take a couple of trips around the block because you weren’t sure about the car that was behind you as you approached your house. Supercar paranoia. It’s a thing.
Now, none of this is an issue inherent to the Mclaren. I’d doubtless be the same if I were in a Lamborghini or a Ferrari, and I’ve realised that the only real way to alleviate this issue is to have so much money that you really don’t care about any of the above. You just pay an insignificant (to you) sum to have someone fix it on your behalf and get on with your life. So, if you can only just scrape your way into supercar ownership, I’d counsel against it.
As it stands, a couple of issues would have sent the Mclaren back to the shop this month in any case. The first to raise its head was that the sat-nav started behaving in a deeply odd fashion. It’d record the car as moving when it was stationary and then fail to register the car on the satellite network at all on other occasions. The second issue concerned the photochromatic glass roof. This switched itself to dark mode, and no amount of button jabbing or rebooting the car would see it return to full transparency. Neither were major issues, but both were a little annoying.
Nor did they take the shine off those moments when the sun was out, you had no particular place to go and there was nobody watching. Would I be a supercar guy if I had the requisite funds? Let’s just say that the Mclaren 570GT delivers quite a convincing argument, and it’s been a wholly memorable experience. Anybody want to crowdfund an impecunious journalist?