My palms are sweating, there is another solid clunk from the E-Gear as I pull the right-hand carbon lever, and at least 20 people are taking pictures of me. No pressure then, as I weave this £197,000 Lamborghini LP640 through the gridlocked streets of Knightsbridge, central London. I now know how a goldfish feels, everyone peering in and pointing, waiting for you to do something,
. If I feel like a fish, this car is a fish out of water weaving through crowded streets, theatrically avoiding speed bumps thanks to a button that raises the nose on cue, surging forward with the lightest of touches on the accelerator.
So how did I find myself in this strange predicament? Well, I’ve noticed that Lambos and Ferraris are not an altogether uncommon sight in London, as this is often where their rich owners have homes, so they must have to go through this all the time. We all know how devastatingly quick machines can be on a track, but never mind that, how easy are these behemoths to drive around a city? To find out I contacted the Segrave supercar club, a company that is situated slap bang in the heart of London, a short walk from Harrods department store. Whereas other such clubs are located outside of city centres, Segrave wants to interact with the members, instead of the only point of contact being with the delivery driver who drops off the car.
The idea is that members come to the ‘clubhouse’, which is situated in the old showrooms of Sir Henry Segrave. Fitting as he was the first person to travel at more than 200mph on land and when I arrive I am surrounded by machinery capable of hitting the double ton or thereabouts. Interestingly the club was named Segrave after Sir Henry, the premises were chosen, and it was only when they took the lease that they found out that it was his former showroom. The lowliest car in their fleet in a Maserati Quattroporte, the next cheapest is an Aston DB9, and then it goes up through Ferrari F430 Spider, Lambo Superleggera, Aston DBS, Rolls Royce Phantom (with chauffeur if needed), McLaren SLR and Porsche Carrera GT.
Segrave claims the problem with existing shared access car clubs is that 80% of their members only want to drive the top 20% of the cars, equating to a realistic ratio of truly interesting metal to members of 18:1. Seagrave will be sticking to a ratio of 6:1, and they will only take on new members when they have new cars to satisfy that ratio. The smart-looking HQ of the Segrave Club has a huge fifties’ lift taking up half of its frontage where the supercars pop up from. I’m aware that outside the traffic on the streets is reaching breaking point, no doubt tempers are starting to flair and the tourist-laden pavements are spilling out onto the road.
Getting the cars out isn't easy
I pick the metallic grey Ferrari 599 GTB to start off with and hopefully ease myself into the madness. Never mind the paddle shift, the suspension and gear settings, what I’m worried about is the thousands of pounds worth of carbon fibre panels that stand between me and the first overzealous cab driver I come across. I needn’t have worried. The 599 has great visibility and feels pretty compact. The Enzo-derived V12 sounds great and the gearchange is impeccable. The seating position is perfect and my only criticism is this car feels too easy to drive; it doesn’t even feel that much like a supercar.
Thanks to its unassuming colour it doesn’t attract too much attention too, just enough from people in the know, which is nice. The tan leather seats are incredibly comfortable and the beautifully weighted steering means it is easy to weave the car through the traffic. It is clear that everything Ferrari has learnt about cars has been put into the design. It feels like a Ferrari for everyday, a world away from the monster V12s of the past like the Testarossa. We get a brief open bit of road and the 6.0 litre pulls so smoothly, making it not feel as earth-shatteringly fast as it no doubt is. To find out what a supercar is like in a city, in heavy traffic, this is definitely not the car.
The nerves set in as I watch the grey Lamborghini LP640 rising up in the lift back at the Segrave HQ. This is it – one of the meanest-looking cars on the planet. Black wheels, scissor doors, electrically operated scoops on the side, fighting bull on the bonnet. For a start I can’t see out of the thing, apart from straight ahead. Just. The paddles are small compared to the Ferraris, you sit low, almost lying down, and you have a fixed, child-like grin constantly plastered on your face.
The E-Gear ‘box slips the clutch a hell of a lot to get going and when I get to the end of the road I have to press a button in the centre consol to raise the nose before negotiating a speed bump, all while traffic builds up. Oh, and apparently something happens to the steering with the nose raised, but I’m not sure exactly what. Pulling on to Brompton Road every French and Italian schoolchild in a 200-metre radius stops to stare. In fact, everyone does. As I poodle along I realise whereas in the Ferrari I regularly had just one hand on the wheel, in the Lambo both mitts are glued to it, only separated by a fine layer of sweat. The gears don’t change smoothly, they thump into place.
Not another speed bump...
The rear vision is obscured by a heat haze rising from the engine and I’m desperately trying to avoid the American tourists getting their picture taken next to the car. Even when I’m sitting at a red light on Park Lane and have a clear bit of road in front of me I gingerly open the car up, concerned about the consequences of flooring the Lambo. Through Hyde Park I’m starting to get the hang of the car, but before I know it I’m back at the Segrave offices, a quick press of the nose-lift button (actually a few presses as I haven’t mastered that yet) and I’m back.
Two very different cars, joined only by the fact that they were built to thrill on open roads, not in inner city traffic. So if I had to drive one back to PH Towers which would I take? It has to be a no-brainer - surely the docile, beautifully-made Ferrari? N’ah, I’d take the Lambo thanks. If you are going to go to the trouble of taking a supercar through a city, you may as well do it properly…
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