44 - LAMBORGHINI
A LIFE-AFFIRMING
AVENT(ADOR) AVENT It has been a long time coming, but on a sunny day at Yas Island, James McCarthy finally gets to take on the daddy of all the Raging Bulls, the V12 Aventador.
DANA JEWELS / SUMMER / ISSUE 05
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It looks for all the world like a hungry shark. As the early morning
Abu Dhabi sunlight glints dully off its matte black skin and an air of barely-veiled malevolence surrounds the Lamborghini Aventador as it glowers at me on the pit lane of the Yas Marina F1 circuit. The Aventador looks fast, even though it is standing still. Emanating sheer power with its aggressive, muscular stance, it is like a caged animal waiting for the right moment to maul its keeper. It is, in a word, fierce. While this is the first Lamborghini to have a completely brand new architecture since the game-changing Gallardo made its debut at the turn of the century, it still sports the instantly recognisable design cues and Raging Bull DNA propagated in the lineage of both its Murcielago and its ultra rare Reventon forebears. I walk around to the driver’s side door, passing through the heat haze shimmering above the Aventador’s brand new 6,498cc, V12 power plant, which outputs no less than 700hp. As I clamber into the low-slung seat, I am struck by the sheer sense of drama that yells from every fibre of this car, from the hiss of the iconic scissor door as it raises to the dangerous-looking red “missile launch” cover that hides the start button. Equally, the earth-shaking timbre of the engine growling to life when you pluck up the courage to press it, also demands attention.
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46 - LAMBORGHINI
A crackle comes over the radio, followed by the metallic, disembodied voice of top company test pilot - and my pace car driver for the bull run - Max Venturi: “Right, follow me, we go now.” I follow Venturi’s Gallardo Coupe down the slope, under the bridge and onto the glistening blacktop of the GCC’s premier F1 track. Jumping like a scalded cat and with a wail of its V10, the pace car speeds away into the distance, and with no encouragement required, I stamp on the loud pedal and scream off in pursuit. With a huge jolt, I feel the phenomenal raw energy of that monstrous power plant as it propels me forward with mind-bending acceleration. There are few words to express the gamut of my emotions at this point, let alone the all-out assault on my senses. The feedback from the car is such that I can feel every bump in
DANA JEWELS / SUMMER / ISSUE 05
the road through the steering wheel, just as every change in gear results in a kick to the back as the the 700 Italian thoroughbreds strain at their reins. The scent of alcantara, moistening with perspiration under the white knuckle grip I have on the wheel, creates a heady aroma, as the crescendo of noise from that bellowing V12 exhaust note fills the cabin. It is a full-on sensory overload on every level. As I plough into the first chicane on the North end of the circuit, I am surprised at how lithe the car feels for its size and how nimble it seems despite its one-and-a-half tonne weight. Much of this, I am sure, can be attributed in equal parts to the pushrod suspension, the fantastic ESP controls and a superbly engineered four-wheel drive system that is designed to handle the massive 690Nm of torque that the Aventador can deliver.
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However, even under the watchful eye of the ESP, the rear end is skittish in the tight corners, and there seems to be an ever-present threat of oversteer. It deserves respect and if treated with just enough, you can push the envelope of the car’s in-built control, without actually losing it, resulting in maximum fun and minimum carnage. As I hit the long back straight, I let Venturi’s pace car put some daylight between us before really flooring it. The high-revving engine is redlining at 8,500rpm and the car screeching like a banshee, it is surprisingly easy to reach 200km/h and not feel like it. If it wasn’t for every other physical indicator telling me I was going very fast, I probably wouldn’t have realised it. The Aventador is capable of achieving a top speed of 350km/h and boasts a 0-100km/h sprint time of just 2.9 seconds, but as the speedo creeps up past 260km/h, it is time to employ the huge carbon ceramic brakes as I prepare to take the wide sweeping corner that will put me on the pit straight. I get the deep-seated impression that the matte black behemoth didn’t take well to being reined in and was now taunting me; urging me to set free the beast under the bonnet. Such psychological
bullying probably wouldn’t stop no matter just how fast I was prepared to push it. Careful to follow Venturi’s line and dropping into third on the apex set me up for a wide, arcing run into the exit bend that would take me back to the pit straight. Just then, Venturi’s metallic voice started issuing a babble of constant instructions through two-way radio. Following his lead, as I make the turn and twist the wheel into the exit bend, I floor the accelerator causing the back end to slide. Turning into the oversteer, blood is coursing through my adrenaline stream as the car almost power slides into the straight, allowing me to hammer the throttle again and set off into a screaming flypast of the pit lane. I get another few, similarly evocative laps in before I am forced to give the Aventador up and I pull into the pit lane in a contemplative mood. Of all of the exotic cars I have driven, this one was the most coveted and I have slaked my thirst. For now, at least. You see, that is what is so appealing about these big Lambos. There is something delinquent in their soul. It’s everything your mother warned would get you into trouble. It’s like falling in with the wrong crowd or the school friend your parents believed was a bad influence. It is equal parts rebellious, naughty, fun, exciting and scary, which is an intoxicating cocktail, a thirst for which can never truly be quenched.
DANA JEWELS / SUMMER / ISSUE 05