The miles keep piling on in the FF, a car so well suited to my everyday life that it has forced me to abandon a long-standing strategy to only use special machines for special journeys. The FF's trick is making even the most awful trudge down the M4 much more of an event.
These are noisy. A little too noisy in fact
There are issues, however. The first is noise. I live in a sparsely populated area, but when the FF starts on a misty morning, the initial brrrwaaaaaaaapp of exhaust noise is ridonculous. You can hear it for miles and even though it's a noise of sublime texture and quality, it's just too much for people who don't worship at the feet of LDM.
There's a point, exiting my village where the gradient steepens suddenly and all cars with dual-clutch gearboxes consider shifting down. I normally marvel at how smoothly they do this - the FF's dual-clutch 'box is no exception - but if I don't carry quite enough speed (we're talking 23 instead of 25mph) then the 'box actions the most extravagant second to first change, accompanied by a massive electronically controlled BAM of throttle. Right by four houses. It makes me bloody cringe at 5am.
The distribution and use of sound, and the volume and quantity of that substance we all enjoy so much is going to be a fascinating subject over the next five years. Me? I like lots in the cabin, but prefer to leave other people a slightly quieter life.
Not many Ferraris that this can be done in
Once the V12 is warm and you're in space, the first extension beyond 4,000rpm never, ever feels anything other than outrageous. The noise inside the cabin already gives the impression of high crank speed, but it just keeps rising and rising to a demented shriek. I should just rely on the wheel mounted shift lights, but at around 6,500rpm I always glance at the big yellow rev counter just to reassure myself that it still has more to go. It's just a wonderful engine: responsive, endlessly powerful, musical, thirsty and, well, thirsty.
I'm not doing the maths chaps, I just can't face it, but I can do around 240 miles on a tank in normal driving. The fuel tank is the FF's biggest problem, for two reasons. The first - it isn't big enough. At 91 litres, it's 17 smaller than the 612 I used to run, and for me that's a big mistake in car of this type. For the vast shadow it casts on the road, it should have at least a 120-litre tank. The other problem is more minor - the tank placement causes a lump between the boot and the rear seats that stops them folding flat for really large items.
That I'm even saying such things of a Ferrari demonstrates how practical it actually is. Oh, and a Ferrari should have a proper billet fuel filler cap, not one of these easy-fill things. It's hateful.
Steering still a little quick for Chris's taste
I never quite come to terms with how wide it is on our little roads. I spend more time checking my offside mirror for the position of the white line that I would normally. The quick, light steering always takes a few minutes of adjustment, but once you drop into its mode of operation, you find an easy rhythm.
Sitting next to Ferrari test driver Raffaele Simone as he hooned me around Fiorano in LaFerrari the other week (just thought I'd casually drop that in there - actually, has it cost me £50K?), is perhaps the best way to fully understand why Maranello's current cars steer the way they do. You see Raffaele really is a driver of rare skill. The smoothness and economy of inputs are some of the best I've seen. He thrives on precision and accuracy - he wants to move the wheel as little as possible, as demonstrated when a car edges into quite a large slide at 110mph and he just applies an elbow flick of lock and continues at vast speed.
It's a strategy I both admire and find frustrating. For me, on UK roads, a slower rack would make the FF less darty and nervous. And to be clear, this is just about direction changes - with the dampers set to soft, the ride is spot-on for what I want in this type of car.
Is this the official Ferrari luggage set?
Being a Ferrari there have been a few dashboard freak-outs. The first was a full engine-check light, which forced a stop at Dick Lovett Ferrari. Turns out a pipe from the fuel filler had split, causing a slight loss of pressure in the system. It was replaced in 24 hours. Other than that I've had the catalyst temperatures not computing and parking sensors occasionally having a wobble. I'm one of those sad loons that quite likes these random, pointless messages - they remind me that this hunk of technology remains, at its core, staunchly Italian.
I left the car in the short stay car-park at Heathrow Terminal 3 for 48 hours last week. In that time someone scratched the bumper - I don't know if it was a car or a trolley. The chances of anyone leaving a note are slim when it's a normal car, this thing reduces those to somewhere near zero. Pretty sanguine about it really - the panel isn't damaged, it just needs some paint. People now gawk at the scratch and wince at how dirty the car is. I'd be lying if I said I didn't find that quite amusing.
Chris's certainly a diverse fleet!
My next job is to try and fathom how the 4WD system actually works. This will involve a skid pad and some rubber. On the road, the car instinctively feels rear drive, to the extent that the rear will squirm and move before you have the sensation that any drive is reaching the front tyres.
I quite like that, but it does slightly hamper the FF's all-weather speed because you can't just mash the right pedal on a wet road and expect it to launch the way can in the S4. I suppose 660hp plays a part too.
So far it's completed several mountain bike trips, school runs, loads of four-up running and swallowed golf bags. The more I live with it, the more I like it. That I happen to think it looks astoundingly handsome just adds to the appeal.
FACT SHEET
Car: 2012 Ferrari FF
Bought: February 2014
Mileage: 6,900 last time, probably quite a few more now!
Purchase price: See first report
Last month at a glance: The FF copes admirably as Chris's everyday wheels.