Complete with Italian plates, the white drop top press car was in our custody for just eight hours. So, instead of the usual spank-it-around-country road test, we decided to do something a little different with it.
At 11am on Wednesday we rolled up at Euro Car Parts’ Portsmouth branch for a stint of work experience – delivering urgent spares to dealers in the city. Never before would they get to their destinations so fast…
I won’t spoil the feature – which is due to appear in next month’s issue – but needless to say we had a lot of fun.
In fact so much fun that I reckon if my numbers ever do come in and I suddenly get a bank balance that’s got more zeros behind the number instead of in front of it, I’ve worked out what I’d do to pass the time: Buy an LP560-4 and work for a parts delivery company.
We met a cracking bunch of people at ECP and all the car dealers and servicing outlets we visited during our arduous (!) four-hour shift were top chaps.
We took a video camera along with us for the day to record our poor attempts at delivering parts, but most of the footage was unusable.
Why? Well, watching it back the next day, we realised one thing – we talk a huge amount of crap!
Where was the expert review of the supercar we were travelling in? The piece to camera a la Clarkson enthusing about the car’s monsterous ‘torques’? The stunning panning shots as we travelled around Pompey?
Instead, all we managed to record was a stupid conversation about hit BBC2 show Dragons’ Den, and how using LP560-4s on the fleet instead of Peugeot Partner vans was a good idea.
Or not, as the case may be…
What was quite funny about our trip around Portsmouth was the random things people shout at you when you’re driving a supercar.
The first incident happened when we pulled over under a bridge to get some pictures. A group of teenagers in a battered old 106 circled and circled the roundabout shouting: ‘Who are ya? Who are ya?’
I found it incredibly difficult to reply. They were only in earshot for about half a second and the screech of their tyres drowned out anything that was said anyway…
Then, while sat in a traffic queue, top down of course, I spotted a Subaru driver coming the other way eyeing the car up with a sneer. As his queue began to ease, ours did too, and when we passed, perfectly clearly I heard him yell: ‘A Nissan GT-R is faster!’
He is, in fact, quite correct, but what was I meant to shout back? ‘Yes! You’re quite right sir, it is! Thanks for the information!’
And then, there was the age old classic. Approaching a roundabout, we pulled up alongside a BMW being driven by a rather attractive woman. She took one look at the car, our Euro Car Parts caps (an enforced part of the uniform), and uttered a killer blow: ‘Tossers!’
I tried to shout after her a suitable response – I was thinking something like ‘Thanks very much!’ would work – but as she delivered the line she was gone.
Still, despite the abuse and attention I’d still buy a Lamborghini given half the chance. It was the best sounding car I’ve ever, ever driven, awesome to drive with incredible grip and looked gorgeous.
Oh, and did I mention the sound?