How often do we feel the emotion from the car we’re driving? Many cars are created to assist with travel, but only a few have character, and fewer still feel like they have a soul. So what does the big V12 Lamborghini feel like?
Story: Jim Gorde
Photography: Sanjay Raikar
Focus. That’s what seems missing in several cars. But rarely is that the case with Lamborghinis. The Aventador looks intense, even angry, always. It has a don’t-mess-with-me look tattooed all over in invisible ink. Yet under that orange paint is everything Lamborghini have learned from the Miura to the Murciélago SV. A lot may have said a lot about it, along the lines of how it seems more docile, even domesticated, but it still is a big, V12 Lambo, and it still is very intimidating.
Scissor doors, emergency active cooling-vents, and a see-through hold over a carbon-fibre cross-cage that holds the big V12 are just some of the design elements that point to what the Aventador is about. A few years ago, people thought it was the end of the large, naturally-aspirated 12-cylinder internal combustion engine. There was talk of turbos, catalytic converters, even batteries, but, after all of that, an all-new 6.5-litre engine surfaces, packing more horsepower than ever before, and, to top it all, they didn’t even bother with turbos, direct injection or even two clutches in the transmission. The seven-speed independent shifting rod (ISR) is, in fact, an automated manual transmission (AMT) in its undercover Halloween best. It drives all four wheels through a fourth-gen Haldex coupling.
The cabin is a nice place to be in: well laid-out inside that carbon-fibre and aluminium monocoque. The seats are exquisite and wrapped in fabric’s carbon-fibre counterpart. The central tunnel holds a large, sprawling console that also holds the missile-launch start-button set-up. The digital display behind the steering wheel is aglow with numbers and bar-graphs of different colours. ‘Sport’ mode is enabled.
