Long before it appeared in the distance, I could hear the S arriving. It’s not a squealer like the Huracan – it doesn’t sound like a couple in flagrante.
Instead, the Aston has a sophisticated growl – like Mariella Frostrup after one too many fags. Most shocking is the paint job. I’ve seen the S manual with grey paint and yellow lipstick around the grille, or white gloss and orange frill.
Get your head around that though and the rest should be easy.
Oh, apart from the dog-leg seven-speed gearbox. It’s the reason this Vantage is so special – but also remains the most annoying feature. First gear is in a funny position but it’s also way to easy to slip from second to fifth, instead of third.
Ho-hum. Another flawed Aston – or will I get used to it like every other motoring hack claims is possible?
For now, I’m just happy to look at the shape and hear the roar. More tomorrow…
Difficult trying to explain what it actually feels like to drive a Lamborghini. On paper, you might think your BMW M4 or pumped up Subaru Impreza will give it a good run for the money. You’re wrong.
Porsche, Mercedes AMG, Jaguar – all perfectly exciting options. But machines like the Huracan, cars from McLaren and Ferrari, just put speed on a different level.
There is almost an air of resignation among other drivers when the Huracan appears in their rear-view mirror. I’m not sure everybody knows exactly what it is but they certainly get out of the way fast.
Us the ‘Strada’ setting on the steering wheel (again!) for eating up everyday RS4s – switch to ‘Sport’ for destroying anybody who dares to think they are driving a more proficient motor.
There is a race setting but let’s not go there. No need. You will lose your nerve before the Lambo does.
The dashboard of the Huracan still frustrates me. I’m sure Lamborghini drivers would tell me that ‘you get used to it’ but steering column stalks are obviously out of flavour in Italy right now.
Everything, and I mean everything, is on the steering wheel. This includes a fiddly indicator button on the left, and an equally awkward windscreen wiper switch on the right.
Far from being driver focussed, I still have to take my eyes off the road to be certain I am pressing each button correctly.
Worst of all though is the dip/full beam. This is also on the left, directly above the indicators. It’s infuriatingly hard to find and even then, changing from full to dip beam is maddeningly tricky.
So, although the Huracan will blow you away with performance and jaw-dropping looks, it still ain’t the perfect supercar…
I’ve never known a car quite like it. The Hurcan is the most eye-catching supercar I’ve driven in 35 years of motor journalism.
A McLaren is cool, a Ferrari chic but the ‘angry’ Lambo craves attention wherever it is parked.
I returned to the Huracan after the British Touring Car Championships at Silverstone this weekend to find a group of people taking selfies, ogling through the windscreen.
Sat in the middle of Cirencester today, teenagers were giving the thumbs up and mouthing ‘nice car’. At least, I think that’s what they were saying.
What they haven’t even experienced driving this beast of a machine. It may bottom out on rough A-roads, it does have an exhaust system that could be a soundtrack to the Iraq War, and Lambo do offers some ridiculous colours.
But for sheer balls out rollocking fun, I’m not sure there has been anything to equal the raging bull of Huracan…
Here it is then – the bonkers and rather unconventional cockpit that greets every Huracan driver. Check out the red flip cover on the centre console – it conseals the stop start button and is borrowed from a fighter jet.
And that small handle beneath it? Well, obviously that’s the reverse lever and not a handbrake. Exploring the Lamborghini layout is actually a joy – but explore it you must to extract full pleasure from this powerhouse.
The steering wheel? It’s a little too overcomplicated for my liking and the thumb operated indicator switches are cool but really just form over function and not practical.
Otherwise you sit low in the driver’s seat and rear visibility is limited. You need the reverse camera to trundle backwards very slowly and the door mirrors are tiny.
Time to go for a drive…
The donkeys don’t like it that’s for sure. Seriously, the mules on the farm are quite upset by the four tailpipes of the Huracan. God knows what the chairman of the parish council thinks – I will never get in the cricket team now.
The slightest application of right foot sends the Lamborghini into an orgasmic overture. It’s quite silly but then this isn’t a car for shy, retiring types.
If I chucked you the keys to the Huracan I can also guarantee you wouldn’t have a clue how to use the push button gear system, select neutral or even locate the window openers.
The indicators are on the front of the steering wheel and buttons you want to press down are actually designed to be lifted up.
Nothing about this car is normal and I haven’t even driven it yet. I suspect it’s going to make me giggle and worry about my license.
More tomorrow when I’ve found the door handle…
June 12 Returning from Italy is always a drag. However, leaving behind a Lamborghini is even worse. Other supercars are available but I think I’ve found my automotive soulmate.
The Miura was the hook to being in Bologna but driving the Aventador and Huracan for the first time broke the spell of Mclaren which has been hanging over me for the last few weeks.
Now, you might think the 760bhp Aventador would seduce me but it was the considerably cheaper Huracan that proved the easier, more accessible supercar.
I’m hoping Car Couture can get one on test before the end of the year, so watch this space. For the next few days I’m in a Caterham 7 620S. More on that tomorrow…