ROMA THERAPY

It’s very highly caffeinated, the Ferrari Roma. But that’s fine, because it’s 7am now and thanks to a bubbly barista at Cardiff West services, so am I. But two hours ago I wasn’t. The Ferrari, however, still was. And at 5am that wasn’t ideal.

So before we do anything else, we need to discuss what our expectations are of these cars and how they behave. This used to be easy. These are grand tourers. Insert two plus luggage, point prow at Antibes, pitstop at Reims for a crate of champagne, dinner at some place with stars in Lyon, apply head to pillow, repeat the next day. But no one’s diet plan permits a contented belly waft through France these days. And besides, who drives all that way?

You’ve heard all those old tropes before. GTs are dead and gone. The truth of the matter is that all these firms actually do build grand tourers. Only they’re called SUVs. Ferrari’s will be along shortly. The role of an actual grand tourer has changed. These cars, although built for that job, actually do another. They’re the Monday–Friday exotica, doing the things that everyone else does, just more raffishly. And with a sideline as supercars for the hip-replaced. Except the