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What a shot of espresso does for one on an empty stomach is precisely what Ferrari’s new stallion will do to the notion of ‘grand touring’. This is, perhaps, why the Maranello carmaker states the new 651hp, V12, four-wheel drive, four-seater, is the very “pinnacle of achievement in the extreme GT segment.” Extreme GT, eh? Well yes, it is almost sinister in its manic propulsion, but it is also so refined and so finessed, that one could liken it to a flamenco guitarist. You know, greased hair that is neither too short nor too long, flailing atop a dynamic physique dressed in tight designer jeans and tapping away in a pair of Salvatore Ferragamo Python loafers. When one such hot-blooded virtuoso launches into an AK-47-esque sonic assault, he’ll probably leave you trembling with your arm hair standing on end. Tener duende!
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That is exactly what this new Ferrari did to me. Indeed, it is also an assault on the notion that “you cannot lap the Nordschleife in a car that comfortably seats 4 adults and one that will shame Astons, Porsches, Lamborghinis and Mclarens when pushed to the limit.” Ferrari has left those non-believers rather bruised and battered, I’m afraid. It all started in 2004, and seven years on, we’re driving Ferrari’s greatest achievement to date, the FF.
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After flying into Venice, being chauffeured to Brunico in a fantastic Lancia Thesis (in the capable hands of Paolo Brugnara – who is being torn apart by the idea of Lancia’s transmogrification into a Chrysler), checking into an Alpine Wellness resort, and sipping on the finest grappa, I’m itching to get behind the wheel of Ferrari’s new baby. Thanks to Ghita Mejdi and all the wonderful folks at Ferrari Middle East and of course Claudio Piretti of Shanfari/Ferrari Oman, I am one of the lucky few who will indeed be doing so, but that will happen tomorrow. Tonight I am rubbing shoulders with the brains, brawn and beauty behind the new car; I’m also in the company of Brunico’s finest, and I’m learning a lot about what can only be described as perhaps the most majestic place in Europe. There are stacks of images that I am including in the gallery of this post, mostly of Ferraris, but also of the people and the place that made this trip one of the best I’ve experienced in my career thus far, so please take a look.
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Winding through the Alps in this glorious beast, the turn-in is sharp and the steering is precise – paradoxically, both brittle and smooth. I look into my rear-vision mirror and I’ve got a passenger in the back who is in awe of the snow-capped passes we’re traversing, and to my side sits Henri, a rather solidly framed South African motoring guru. We’re all rather tall, yet are seated comfortably, and I’m pressing hard. The FF is quiet but returns a delicious rasp when baited, and bury your foot and… Whizz-Bang-Wap!… you tickle the mathematical constructs of the space-time continuum, regardless of what gear you are in or what gradient you are attacking.
