Murcielago

Drive a Murcielago and people will assume you're an oily billionaire, but when a car's this good, who cares?

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Indy Lifestyle Online

Would suit: Randy otters
Price: £192,000
Performance: 211mph, 0-60mph in 3.4 secs
Combined fuel economy: You are joking, right?
For further information contact: Rod Stewart

They demolished my school a few years ago – hopefully with selected teachers chained to the radiators – but before they did, I drove there from London in a Lamborghini and parked in the headmaster's space, just for the hell of it. It was a childish, empty gesture that demeaned me as a human being, undermined any shred of dignity I had clung to since my harrowing school days (yes, I am an old Harrowian, ha, ha!) and quite probably besmirched my escutcheon in the process but, boy, it felt good.

It is a two fingers kind of car, a Lamborghini. If a Ferrari is seductive, a Porsche appeals to the intellect, and an Aston is an automotive rugby tackle, a Lamborghini tells the world you really don't give a gibbon's gonads about any of that. Brash, macho, devil-may-care, more money than sense, possibly criminal – Lambo man is, to me, all of these things: an oleaginous billionaire in a silk shirt, open to the navel revealing hints of tanned, hairy man-boobs; slippery and hyperactive, like a randy otter. Do they all have life-size porcelain leopards in their living rooms and girlfriends whose names end in "i"? Maybe not, but it makes my world simpler to think so.

The Murcielago LP640 is the latest staggering eyeful from the company. Out goes the old car's piddling 6.2l, 580bhp V12, in comes a 6.5l with 631bhp.

Before I had even put the key in the ignition the LP640 had tried to i) gouge my eye out with top the corner of its scissor-hinged door, ii) anally rape me with the seatbelt buckle which, unlike any other car, is beside the door sill to trap the unwary, and iii) snap my fingers off with the stereo cover (it really hurt!)

The engine erupted into life, sending a shock wave through the neighbourhood and bringing children scurrying for a look-see. Their dads came too, of course. This is one of those cars that cause men to make curious, sucking noises when they see them and, soon, I was surrounded by a chorus of wheezy vacuum cleaners.

The LP640 is, of course, shockingly fast. Earth languages cannot really convey how fast it feels, but this is the noise I made when I first pressed the accelerator: "Oougrnnnghomorahhweeeeeeeeeeeeee!" And, get this: it has a "Sport" button, if that isn't sporty enough for ya. Sneeze and you are travelling at three-figure speeds, relax for a second and police helicopters will be scrambled.

But it is not in the slightest bit scary to drive. Audi's four wheel drive system and ergonomic housekeeping has changed the nature of the Italian supercar forever. Anyone could jump in a Murcielago and, despite its considerable girth and weight, drive it without breaking a sweat. The controls are hefty but manageable, the steering beautifully assisted at low speed and one's man boobs (not mine, obviously) only wobble slightly over bumps. You still can't see out of it, though; the louvered rear window makes you feel like a character in a Raymond Chandler novel squinting through the blinds to see if the cops are still outside. They almost certainly will be. *

It's a classic: Lamborghini Espada

Proof, were it needed, that Lamborghini is an exclusively masculine brand is the company's only attempt at a 'family' car, the Espada. They are comparatively cheap (£20k will get you a good one) and I have been trying for years to persuade my wife that this would be an ideal car for us, but she is having none of it. "But look," I beseech, "it has four seats and a hatchback!" Sadly, in my wife's eyes, the Espada still leaves a great deal to be desired as family transport, not least because its thirst for fuel is measured in feet per gallon rather than miles. The Espada (which, as if the thing wasn't phallic enough, means "matador's sword") is not the prettiest car ever made, but it has great presence. It was powered by a V12 that is a distant cousin of the engine that powers the Murcielago and was capable of 155mph when it worked, which most of them don't these days. Paul McCartney had one, but doesn't anymore, which tells you all you need to know about their reliability.

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