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Dream Holidays. Or Maybe Not.
SUPERCARS‘ LOUNGE
DREAM HOLIDAYS. OR MAYBE NOT.
Words by Marco Mancino / Photo by Richard Montagner
The moment you’re going to read this article, you may have already overcome the holiday’s comeback trauma and you are probably at work by a few days, trying to drive away those celestial memories of beaches we’d all love to get lost on. I enjoyed two weeks of summer break this year, the first was a real cure for mind and body, visiting for the second time in my life the beautiful coasts of the Caribbean, where sun, sea, coconuts and aperitifs lasting from morning until dawn deceived the wait for a tasty dinner in some characteristic restaurant, pampered as in a dream that one day after the other was approaching the end but also the beginning of the second week of my vacation, the “on the road” one. Not a bad plan, right?!
Anticipating the celebrations for my birthday, I decided to give myself an automotive-themed gift and “borrow” a Lamborghini Huracan for the whole week, regardless of the extra kilometers, let alone the petrol that would have been needed to drive up and down on a corner of the Swiss Alps, an authentic piece of heaven dedicated to the most profound cult of inner love, always provided you do not exceed by 2 kph the severe local speed limits. In reality, as you may have guessed from the title, it was not really a dream week and indeed there was not a single day in which I did not find myself wishing to go back to our Caribbean resort and extend my stay on that cot a few steps from the water, leaving for once the cool breeze of the mountains and the grazing cows to someone else. Clearly, I didn’t quarrel with any cow up there, but I believe that the next time I’ll leave for more than a couple of days I will choose something more suitable to my needs than the raging bull I picked. I know the Huracan quite well, I’ve already driven it (the owner is a dear friend of mine) in those situations where the only thing that matters is to bring your backbone home and give vent to the naturally aspirated V10 letting it sing like a tenor at the first show of the season. Being nuts for hiking and more or less extreme sports represented the first low blow to my expectations. I had not calculated that the load compartment of the baby Lambo is in line with every other supercar and I’ve been lucky that I could stow a pair of sweaters and two pairs of shoes behind the seats. Good Lord.
I wonder if by the time you browse through these pages I will still be engaged, my sweet girlfriend has not taken well the drastic cut to her beauty case, even less to her generous selection of summer, half-weight and winter clothes (because on the mountains you can never know, she says) angrily looking at the front trunk of the Huracan, right next to my clothes and here I won’t tell you stories, but keep in mind that I didn’t bring any bags. That’s right, my clothes were literally thrown around my gf’s trolley, to save space and to verify the efficiency of the hotel laundry department. Ah, the hotel, another sore point. No matter what, the moment you get there with a supercar, the hotel parking will always be buried at the bottom of some absurd ramp – a nightmare getting in and out trying not to crawl the expensive front bumper. So far, these are all things you can avoid, as long as you have a much more discreet car like myself, but my other mistake was to have chosen the third week of August, and believe me when I tell you there’s no single possibility in the universe when it’s time to find a parking space away from the crowd, strollers, families ready to tackle some crazily crying babies, etc. I took three fines, preferring them to a hypothetical scratch to the paint of the Lambo and I gave up on a safari, an adventure park, a restaurant and three excursions, partly because I could not take all the necessary things with me and also because of the fact that the Huracan doesn’t feel much at home among deep holes and dirt tracks.
What did I learn from this holiday? A couple of things. Next year, the only vehicle equipped with a remarkable cavalry that we will take, will be a plane and I intend to spend every single minute with my feet in the fresh waters of the Caribbean Sea. Then, if I ever plan a vacation at the wheel of a Lamborghini, I will make sure it is going to be the Urus, so Lambo send us one in the meantime please. The Huracan is not at all an enemy for a daily basis cohabitation, it is not too rigid, it has traditional doors like a Fiat Punto and it’s equipped with every comfort, providing everything you need. The problem is that it is not a grand tourer, it is not meant to make you enjoy the destination, but rather the journey, especially if done quickly. If I was trying to find some sense in a super-SUV, I have found it, but the truth is that I just wanted to recharge my batteries and instead I came back more stressed and poorer than before. Ouch.
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