You may have read squaremile.com’s first drive of the Purosangue; there’s no doubt this Ferrari hits different. But what’s it like to actually live with? I decided to find out.
First, a recap. With the Purosangue, Ferrari has not made an SUV. Let’s just get that straight. The word ‘Utility’ shouldn’t go anywhere near the hallowed Modenans.
But what Ferrari has done is react to the success of their competitors. The Urus, the DBX, the Bentayga have all been hugely successful – often heralded as company-saving models. Sports SUVs are flying off the shelves, and the Italians aren’t one to look a (prancing) gift horse in the mouth.
Their appeal is undeniable: people want the feel and performance of a supercar, but without the low-slung entry and storage for little more than a Sharpie. And sure, status and road presence doesn’t exactly hurt the equation, either.
But the Ferrari Purosangue isn’t as simple as that. Instead, Maranello has taken the bones and appeal of the FF and then the GTC4 Lusso, and upgraded certain elements – both technically and conceptually.
‘Yes, we’ve found you can have four seats in a Ferrari – let’s build on that, let’s put some doors at the back and really make the seats adult-worthy and offer a business class experience.’ Followed by: ‘Yes, we’ve found that long, wide and large works on a Ferrari, too – let’s raise the height so we can soften the ride while tackling rough roads, dirt tracks and any obstacle this side of all-out Green Lane-ing’.
What you end up with is the 700bhp V12 Ferrari Purosangue, a completely unique proposition automotively – and a car that, as ever, puts the Italian icons at the front of the queue.
To enjoy a properly immersive experience of the car, I felt I had to meld things together – this couldn’t be just a one-night affair or a track day. Instead, I travelled to the Motherland – and collected the car from Maranello itself , and then took it for an extended romp through the Tuscan countryside. I spent time with friends and family, did a large food shop, toured the countryside, as well as enjoying a more luxurious couple of nights away with my wife. So, how did it stack up?
On first viewing in the flesh, I have to admit, I found it a little odd. There’s something in the design that makes it seem slightly off kilter. It reminds me of when my son was playing with toy cars in different scales – the Purosangue looks like a normal car, but a bit larger.
First driving impressions are that it is wonderfully potent – as expected. The naturally aspirated 700bhp 6.5L V12 thumps you without the aid of any turbos or batteries – its old school in that sense – but new school in every other sense.
The four-wheel drive system seems to deliver grip where physics should deny it, and the suspension may as well have been developed by NASA. Indeed the latter is heavily influenced by Scuderia Ferrari’s Formula 1 experience. Few cars have this kind of technology and what’s important about that comes back to my original point: Ferrari are not a brand to play everyone else’s game.
Yes, they will make something that’s near the SUV world, but they make sports cars and supercars – not Dakar racers or mud-pluggers. So, the underpinnings have to stay within that globally known reputation. You feel that in this car.
In the cockpit you feel its size as you look down the long and muscular bonnet, but you don’t feel the weight in the corners or acceleration – you have the V12 noise behind an acceleration you’d expect in a thoroughbred supercar. It’s also unbelievably easy to drive long distances – the large comfy seats (complete with massage function; who doesn’t want a massage?) and smooth Strada drive mode make life on the motorway exceedingly pleasant.
When carrying a full load of people, you can easily chat to each other, pass snacks back and forth and argue over what music to play. We could be in a people carrier or family estate – if it weren’t for every other single detail about the interior of this car.
Let’s talk about the two-dashboard thing that people seem to want to do nowadays. I first experienced it in a Porsche Taycan and then Ferrari’s 296 and found it to be slightly ridiculous. Like in the 1980s, when hi-fis were about how many things you could stack on top of each other. I’ve never felt a passenger was so desperately far from the central control to need something closer if they wanted to flick to the next track, or turn up the A/C. However, the Purosangue has doubled down on this idea and made the screen usably and honestly big. The previous screens felt a little apologetic… ‘screen anyone? If you’d like? But don’t worry if you don’t, sorry to bother’. This, coupled with the wraparound styling to mirror the driver’s side feels better, more direct. And it works – my wife was fully in control of changing my power ballads for her folk rock without squinting to see what she was doing.
The other interior touch that feels unique is the popup dial in the centre of the dashboard for the front seats (there’s one at the back exactly the same which is great, unless your passenger is 3 and then it's not great.) Ergonomically satisfying to turn in a world of touchscreens but sadly the centre bit is still touchscreen and a little fussy to use when driving.
The haptic controls across Ferrari’s cars nowadays do irritate me; I miss the feel of a click or a switch on this car as much as any other. It was particularly infuriating when trying to navigate Apple Maps through Carplay while being shouted at by a toddler to put his favourite song on. I don’t know how much this is an Apple compatibility issue or the haptic control issue. Either way in a near enough £400,000 car there shouldn’t be anything that isn’t perfect.
As I approached the private Tuscan villa that provided an important stage in this full-bodied road-test, I was quickly glad that I had chosen this Ferrari. Like all great Tuscan stereotypes, this villa was situated with rolling hills in the distance, near a small mediaeval town and (saliently) at the end of a rocky and narrow country lane. It was bucolic, idiosyncratically Italian, and completely inappropriate for supercars.
This is where the Purosangue plays its joker. I bullishly ploughed down that lane with the sort of abandon reserved for the SUV community and it felt good to be doing it in a Ferrari.
As a family run-around, the Purosangue also carried out its duty with aplomb. Everyone had to have a ride to the local supermarket and the car turned heads aplenty. In Italy, Ferrari is a religion – and even when you show up at the local food mart, they’re happy to bow in its presence.
The B side to my trip was a couple of nights in the equally beautiful Castelfalfi – a former Medici holiday home and now a sprawling luxury hotel and apartments complex.
It comes complete with two golf courses, luxury villas, two restaurants, three pools, luxury spa, adventure park, vineyard and extensive grounds. And they’re not done yet; there are further rooms and villas to open.
What’s clever and enchanting about the property is the way in which they have embraced the original borgo (Italian hamlet) instead of disguising it. There is a small high street, the main castle and public access throughout to keep the place in the community rather than shutting them out.
What it provided for me was an opportunity for the Purosangue to step into more delicate, dress shoes in a way that it is completely suited for. The hotel was very happy for me to leave the car outside reception.
My wife and I enjoyed unbelievable food, the best massage of our lives at RAKxa Spa and a negroni or three, while the Ferrari slept soundly by the front door.
When it came to depart, we said fond farewells to the diligent staff and loaded up our thoroughbred. This is where we met our only hurdle – boot space. When you have four large seats, the implication is there’s room for four adults with their assorted baggage. But we had to put our second suitcase on one of the rear passenger seats as the boot could barely handle our first.
Any other downsides? Well, there’s a three-year waiting list to buy one and they sold out long before they went on sale. But then again, does a billionaire really want something they can just get off the shelf?
Talking of billionaires – there’s the price. It’s a staggering amount of money – the options list on the press car amounted to just over £70,000. But it's intentional: icons don’t come cheap.
With thanks to: ferrari.com and castelfalfi.com
