“Not a problem,” I said.
I was away, and had left the car outside overnight. When I came back, I found it a little too close to the edge of a light drop into a small paddock. The rear wheels were just about on the gravel, but an inch of forward movement would see them on wet grass, and then the 599 would become the thing we all hope doesn’t happen in the near future: a Ferrari off-roader.
Predictably, the moment I attempted to move it, the car slithered straight into the paddock.
An emergency call went in to fellow hack Andrew Frankel, who lives nearby, and he arrived in his trusty Series 2 Landie. This should have been the solution to the problem, but it didn’t allow for the fact that finding the towing eye, and the hole it screws into, is more difficult than locating the g-spot on a lady gnat.
The reasons for this are: several weeks later, I still can’t find the towing-eye, so have to assume the car wasn’t supplied with one. I still can’t be sure where the hole is (stop sniggering at the back); the handbook points vaguely to a spot on the left-hand side of the front grille, but I just ended up removing rubber bungs and not finding anything into which I could insert the towing eye – which I didn’t have in my hand. In Ferrari’s defence, I don’t expect many 599 owners get them stuck on wet grass, and they would normally call Ferrari Assist to have the thing removed.
What we needed was more traction, and this was provided by A. Frankel sitting in the open boot, whereupon the 599 simply drove up the slope and all was well.
According to the men at Glass’s Guide, I am probably using the 599 too much – but so be it. The more I live with it, the more I like it and the more I have to tell myself that the privilege of driving it outweighs the shattering cost of fuelling it. I am averaging around 11mpg.
There are a few practical ways around this. I only use the car for medium length journeys, for example. Being a stickler for giving fast cars a proper heat cycle each time they’re used, anything under 40 miles is avoided, just as long motorway trips over 300 miles are also largely pointless. Anything in the 100-200 mile window is perfect for the 599, and I always make a point of avoiding the motorway – not because the 599 is uncomfortable or noisy – but because it feels completely wasteful to just plod along in a straight line.
Golf is probably not high on the list of PHers’ preferred activities, but on the odd occasion I have some free time, it’s the perfect antidote to ragging fast cars, and the 599 is a good club carrier. Two squashy bags and shoes can be squeezed into the boot. Try that in a 458.
The 458’s steering is miles more pleasant than the 599’s. I’ve got used to the rack on my car now, but it’s too light and artificial – the newer car’s wheel wriggles like a 2.7RS next to it.
The 458’s DCT gearbox is in a different class for smoothness and in automatic mode, but (and I never thought I’d say this) after the 599 you do slightly miss the odd thump in the back on an upshift. That is, until you experience another perfect downshift in the newer car and realise that the DCT is just better.
Otherwise, the 599 stacks up remarkably well. It’s just as fast, sounds better, and to my eyes, in this metallic graphite colour, it strikes a nice balance between looking obviously special but not too ostentatious.
How you use that 620hp when the grip level is marginal is quite interesting. In ‘Sport’ mode the traction control’s intervention isn’t too harsh, so I tend to just use all the throttle I want and let the computer sort the rest. The other day I had a 120 mile drive in the wet and decided to leave the systems off to see how much of a handful the car was. Driven quickly, it’s absolutely fine – but push harder and it does just what you’d expect. Catch a strange camber, surface or large change in grip as you push into the second half of the throttle travel and it will bite. It’s not hard to catch, but it reminds us how much power the electronics cut when grip is compromised.
In a 997 Turbo, under the same circumstances, you might just illuminate the traction warning light, but not really feel any intervention, even under full throttle. Just what you’d expect. For the avoidance of doubt, I prefer the 599, and in the wet, I leave the traction on.
Road salt will probably force me to stop using the car as regularly as I have done this past month. It’s regrettable, but throwing wax on an aluminium chassis probably isn’t the wisest thing to do. This is a shame for many reasons, one of them being that driving a car like this in winter means you are probably the only 599 on the road in the UK, and we all like to stand out from the crowd a little.
That means I’ll either sell it and try something different next spring, or do something I don’t usually attempt: store it over the winter and carry on owning a 599. Right now, there isn’t another car of its type I’d rather have to own and use in this role. Of course there are others I’d rather own, but could I do in them what I do in this?
Car: 2007 Ferrari 599 GTB
Run by: Chris Harris
Bought: July 2012
Purchase price: Move along...
Last month at a glance: A chance to compare 599 with 458 on the road, and with Landie off it.