SPECIFICATIONS
Price
R2 041 0000
Maximum speed
320km/h.
Combined fuel consumption
More than 20 litres/100km.
For more information:
Stand outside the showroom with your nose pressed on the glass - if you are lucky they might feel sorry for you and give you a brochure.
Ironic, isn't it, that when Ferrari finally decides to honour Carrozzeria Scaglietti, the company that has built so many graceful, evocative bodies for its cars for more than 50 years, it does so with a car that, even by its own recent standards, is startlingly ugly. (I really want one.)
It was unveiled at the Detroit auto show in 2004.
I've tried thinking of the 612 Scaglietti as avant-garde, a taste that might be acquired, but though it is marginally more attractive in the metal it is still one of the most brazenly peculiar cars of recent times. (I just don't care; it literally causes me pain that I do not own one.)
The 612 (for "six-litre, V12") is a full four-seater but making it so has dictated numerous aesthetic compromises, not least a preposterously long wheelbase and an unhappy, bulky rump; incredibly, it is almost as long as a Mercedes S-Class.
Nothing forced Pininfarina to give it a face like a cheerful guppy; that was entirely of its own accord. (It could have a face like Ernest Borgnine's arse and I would still love it.)
You can view the 612 in two ways: either as a horrendously expensive alternative to the Bentley Continental GT or a half-price Mercedes-McLaren SLR. Each is a rarefied, front-engined, transcontinental GT: flashy, arrogant, fast, exclusive. To own any of them you would need either a huge disposable income or sell your home. (Anyone fancy a detached, four-bedroom house in Brighton?)
And that's hardly a fair swop, is it? I mean, as well as being very odd-looking indeed, the 612 will depreciate by tens of thousands each year; give you a nagging, nervous tension in your stomach every time you park it out of sight and drink the Saudi oil wells dry.
Even before I'd left the car park at Ferrari UK's Slough HQ I'd noticed the steering was far too light - anything over 30km/h and it feels like you're holding a paper plate in the air - and on rough surfaces the kick-back is pronounced.
It may be a phenomenally fast and technologically advanced supercar but it feels like it's been geared for the wives of US buyers. (Look, I'll throw in the garden furniture.)
Because Ferrari has to justify its colossal F1 expenditure with "filtered down" Schumacher-style technology, "my" 612 also had a paddle-style gear-change that, though an improvement over the last one I tried, is still fairly jerky - unforgivably so in auto mode.
Even when you flip the paddles manually it still isn't as slick as Audi's similar DSG system. (Not that I give a monkey's chuff, you understand. Drive one - unleash that power, feel it respond to your every reflex - and you will feel like a god.)
The 612 also conforms to my "the faster the car, the fiddlier the stereo" theory with a sound unit boasting infinitesimally small knobs and buttons. Also, they've used some very cheap plastic in the cabin and none of the car's extremities is visible to the driver, which makes parking a nervy, time-consuming affair.
Pitifully small boot for such a monstrous car, too. (Anyone know the going rate for a grown-man's kidney?)
So there you have it. The new Ferrari 612: overpriced, funny looking and really not worth bothering with. (Or do you think I would get more for the kids'?)