I had an inclination I might. I like nothing more than to open up the mighty 1.2 of my ford KA (within legal limits mind) when the road allows though that alone would hardly qualify me as a speed junkie. No, I needed to experience a real speed sensation to make sure that my interest was more than just a passing fancy.
After bouncing around the back of a 6 litre Vauxhall VXR8 (which I was informed averaged seven miles to the gallon!) with a grin plastered on my face, I think it is safe to conclude that I do in fact like speed.
The hot lap followed my experiences behind the wheel of a Nissan GTR (550 BHP) and a Ferrari 430 (It’s a Ferrari – need I say more,) Both if which I enjoyed more than my initial nerves might have foretold.
The Nissan, now there is a car that you can do the shopping and the school run in, should you have a feather touch foot. Sitting in this car is like sitting in any high spec saloon (only with a few shinier buttons and dials.) it is only when you press on the accelerator that you realise this is not a car but a guided missile. Holy Shit, can that car accelerate! I want one.
The Ferrari, however, was an altogether different animal. Where the GTR was neat and practical, the Ferrari is minimal and (dare I say it) cheap looking inside. There’s no fluff here. Everything included in the cockpit is designed to be functional and light. This is a machine designed with one thing in mind. This is a machine designed to be driven fast.
Firing up the engine resulted in a grin of sheer adulation. It was quite the most beautiful sounding engine I’d ever had the fortune to straddle. Driving her was a delight. This was a car I’d describe much like a dominant mistress, and me, the obedient client. She wants to be driven, and I want to drive her hard. Every plea for a gear change is met with a vicious snap of the neck as the car sneers ‘there you go, bitch’ in response. Within meters, I was in love. I want one of these too.
I think it’s clear to see which I preferred. While the GTR is a technical marvel and is amazingly easy to drive, it is a little too polite for my tastes. Yes, the acceleration is brutal, but you feel more of a passenger to its speed rather than the instigator of the fury bubbling away in the bowels of the engine. The Ferrari though, she was savage, and she was glorious. I didn’t ask the price and nor shall I google it. I want this memory, this dream unspoilt by the practicality of numbers.