Dreams Are Made of Lamborghinis
Words by Alessandro Marrone
Photo by Richard Montagner
This year, in addition to the many articles that have ended up in the magazine, I could have published an in-depth essay on how to squander my bank account by spending all my savings on petrol. Probably it would not be a reader’s favorite, but if I think about all the kilometers I’ve been through, I find myself extremely happy. And lucky. Poor but happy. Expensive details apart, I challenge anyone to have a 610 horsepower Lamborghini V10 under the bottom and not wanting to unleash a world war on the slippery curves of the Bolognese hills. Sant’Agata’s press office gives me the key and says, “Here you are. Have fun!” – in less than half an hour we crossed the city center and threw the blue Huracan’s edges into a succession of bends with an asphalt seemingly covered with oil, to the benefit of fun and the consecration of the impeccable all-wheel drive.
While the gearbox shoots one gear after the other I keep myself focused to the maximum to not return to the factory with only a few bolts in my hands, I understand that no road is enough for such a car and most likely I have not even come close to the limits of the baby Lambo. Stopping to give the photographer time to shoot it properly is something hateful, staying away from that steering wheel is an absolute cruelty, but the magic of a Lamborghini is not to be kept jealously but to share. Like when crossing small towns you have never heard the name and the children are astonished, asking me to let them hear the V10 scream – of course I did that! A Lamborghini is a collective dream and seeing one passing in the street is a bit like being part of the dream that who is driving it lives. But before waking up I still have to feel again that roar behind my head, I still have to pinch again the red line of the rev counter. Better hurry and go away from these 1,000 eyes, where for a moment this dream can only be mine.
Complete article coming soon.