After 24 hours of relentless Ferrari brand immersion I was done. I'd met many passionate, knowledgeable and clever folk. Not one seemingly what you'd call a 'car guy'. The factory car park, always a good indicator of the mindset of the people who work there, was full of nondescript hatchbacks and MPVs and the head of PR was driving round in a grimy base-spec Panda. Just
a week earlier
I'd been driven through the car park at Gaydon, which on a good day resembles a PH Sunday Service and says much about the interests of people working at JLR. And yet the last thing people seemed willing to talk about at Ferrari was cars. Which was just weird.
Di Montezemolo went a bit Swiss Toni over this
And after hours of quasi-religious tub thumping by Luca di Montezemolo it was hard to escape the impression that the building and racing of fast red cars is but a minor inconvenience in the modern day Ferrari myth making. Speaking in Italian rather than the deliberate, flamboyantly accented English he uses at motor shows, di Montezemolo's rising pitch, volume and sense of passion had all the hallmarks of a political rally and included some barbed comments at the government's tax policies. Taking his speech at face value you'd readily believe the solution to all the world's ills - environmental, financial, social and cultural - was
flogging a small number of supercars
to the fortunate few. And off the back of it selling merchandise to 'fans' who could never actually afford to be 'clients'.
But amid the hubris were cars. Bright red cars. Not discussed much but you'd catch occasional sight or sound and suddenly all was forgiven.
Meanwhile, over in the Classiche area
And there's the thing. You have to wade through an extraordinary amount of (prancing) horse manure to get to it but, at heart, you can't escape the fact the company builds, and has built, some of the most emotive, awe-inspiring and wonderful motorcars ever seen. And, hat tip to them, spun this into a most profitable myth and legend.
The trip into the 'tailor made' department in Maranello was a perfect metaphor. First thought? What kind of arrogant git thinks 'I want a Ferrari but I don't want it to look like all those other ones down at the golf club so I'm going to spend a five or six-figure sum to make it stand out.' The bile in your stomach rises at the reverential glee with which words like 'exclusivity' and 'bespoke' are uttered and the fawning deference to wealth, howsoever accumulated. And at the sheer pointless extravagance of spending 80,000 euros on a set of stripes and tasteless faux aluminium trim for a 458. When you could achieve something similar for a fraction of the cost in thePH shop!
From this NART Testa Rossa...
And then someone mentions the blue and white stripes on said car were inspired by a
NART 250 Testa Rossa
sold in 2011 for $16.4m and all of a sudden the inner car geek pops up and says 'wait, that's really COOL! If I was buying a 458 I'd want that too!'
Likewise when you watch Mr Harris's video on the 458 Spider. There's nothing 'lifestyle' about ragging a Ferrari round a crumbling Welsh sprint track under grey, wintry skies. But seeing a wonderful car responding to the thrashing of a lifetime with such gusto just ignites the kind of innocent, childlike glee that the sight or sound of a supercar can inspire. Perfectly expressed in Chris's much Photoshopped face.
By the time I'd had the tour of the Classiche department and seen a pair of mint 512BBs being painstakingly worked on alongside F40s, an ex-Steve McQueen 275GTB and 290MM raced to second place in the 1956 Mille Miglia and later driven to wins by Stirling Moss I was ready to doff my prancing horse baseball cap to Enzo's legend and sign on the line.
...to this blinged up 458 in 80,000 euros
Which is immensely disappointing for me, because I was so determined to maintain a cynical cocked eyebrow and not succumb. And all it took in the end was a set of overpriced blue and white racing stripes.