I’d like some more please!

A Ferrari F12 and a California T in Dubai

Words & Photography: Ouseph Chacko

It’s a bit childish maybe, but please humour me because it’s what I do. In a fast car, I compare the power I have to what the police cars of the region have and adjust my speed accordingly.
If, for example, they didn’t have radios, a Bolero full of portly policemen on the Mumbai-Pune expressway will have no hope of catching a well driven Passat so, I have some leeway. Hollywood’s proven that police-spec Ford Crown Victorias handle like wet bars of soap against Mustangs and police Peugeots are no match for BMW’s 5 Series. Here in Dubai though, it’s a whole new ballgame. When the police have the world’s fastest quad-turbo road car at their disposal, even the strikingly yellow, raucously quick Ferrari F12 I’m in isn’t safe. And Dubai has speed cameras. Plenty of them. In a country of excess, they’ve quite predictably gone overboard on speed traps. Sigh.

It’s frustrating and I’m sure Jared from AutoX, who’s in the California T behind me is feeling the same. Because of the no-win situation we are in, there’s only one way to drive – like nuns – 7th gear, 140kmph and 3000rpm on an engine that revs to the moon. Pah!
The F12 has other ideas. I think it wants me to stay back in Dubai, against my will and behind bars. It’s so sharp – I’m talking throttle response here – that if my toe does so much as go near the pedal, pent up energy explodes and it’s time for Hail Marys. It’s viciously quick – accelerate from 50kmph and you’ll be banging off Dubai’s official speed limit of 120kmph in about 2.5 seconds! In fourth gear, 50kmph to 200kmph is covered in, hold your breath, 4.5 seconds! That’s hardly any time for the poor driver to react! Redline in first gear is jail time, second gear is immediate deportation and third gear, well, we definitely don’t want to go there. Dubai has the money and the ‘creativity’ to gold plate and diamond-encrust their cars, they certainly don’t have the sense of humour to let them breathe a little. Or maybe they do.

A friend tells me there are two kinds of drivers in Dubai – the ones that drive like nuns and the ones that don’t give a shit. The latter I think are a selfie crazed lot – they get flashed by every one of the 900 speed cameras around Dubai – and they have the bank balances to pay off hefty fines with the nonchalance you and I reserve to buy a loaf of bread.
They also pull up next to you in Camaros, sometimes Corvettes (lots of American muscle fans here) and treat you to a full throated blare as they try to egg you into a Fast and Furious finale. My wallet is looking a little famished today, so I’m not going to engage and destroy. Believe me, the F12 will, but I’m not going to nail a throttle my bank balance can’t encash.

Meanwhile, I’m learning things about Ferraris that I usually don’t take the time to learn. I’m learning that the F12, on these straight roads to Abu Dhabi, is uncannily relaxing. For a 730bhp, V12-engined Italian flagship, it’s thoroughly unintimidating because all-round visibility is excellent, the driving position is simply fantastic and at 3000rpm, the engine is all of piped down peace.
The steering is sharp and very quick – it’s all of two turns lock-to-lock. Think of changing lanes and the car’s already done it – it takes a bit of getting used to and makes you wonder why every other car feels so dead.
And then I spot it – an empty stretch of road off the main highway and I can’t resist. We pull in, stop at the side, check that no one’s watching and let rip. GLORY BE! A Ferrari V12 closing in on 8700rpm in third gear is a thing of beauty, it is to be revered, it is terrifying. The manaical yowl fills your brain, overflows out of your ears and fills your cup with love. Instantly. And god it’s so smooth!

I slow down, stupidly hope that the police across town didn’t hear that and get back on the highway and sanity. We’re closing in on Abu Dhabi soon enough and I’m sad we didn’t have the time to sneak in a mountain road somewhere along the way. Nothing to be done about it now but so much is clear – even driven at ten per cent of its ability, the F12 completely fails to hide its hardcore heart. I’m glad I drove it, I love that it is the way it is, a mountain road in an F12 is now on my bucket list.

California screamin

A quick spin on the world’s fastest roller coaster at Ferrari World (well, you can’t not drive a Ferrari to Abu Dhabi and skip Ferrari World, can you?) and it’s back to Dubai. Like Southern California, it never rains in the UAE, so I’ve got the roof down. Bad idea – the sun, and the sand and the dry heat surrounding us make me hastily put the roof back up and resign to the comforts of air conditioning.

Right then, let’s see what Ferrari’s first turbo car in a couple of decades is like. The California instantly feels more comfortable, less aggressive and more of a Gran Turismo, which is exactly how Ferrari intended it to be. The way the engine responds, you’d be hard pressed to tell there are turbos under the hood. I drove the naturally aspirated 4.3-litre California in Maranello a while back and as far as I remember, this one’s 3.9-litre motor has a tiny bit more lag than the old car which is more than compensated for by the additional 70bhp the two twin-scroll turbos bring to the T party. It’s clear Ferrari has worked hard to make it feel naturally aspirated and that means throttle response is crisp, power delivery is linear, it revs happily and has great top-end power. It feels like this because of some clever electronic trickery. Through the first three gears the engine management system gives you only 610Nm of torque after which it ramps up slightly in every succeeding gear till you get the full 755Nm in seventh gear. Dishing out torque in doses helps make this 552bhp engine feel like a peaky, naturally aspirated V8. Clever, but again, Dubai’s speed limits hang over me like a guillotine – must add seventh gear run in a California T to that F12 bucket list.

There’s one other thing – turbo chargers have this annoying habit of suppressing engine noise and a Ferrari that doesn’t sound exciting will be like Dubai without the flash wouldn’t it? To counter this, a lot of work went into creating equal-length exhaust manifolds and this one still has a flat plane crank so, it still sounds raw and crisp like a Ferrari V8 should. Phew.

The California looks nicer than before – all the exterior panels (except the roof) are new, the ungainly rear end was sent to the gym and the interiors have been spruced up a bit, the springs are 12 per cent stiffer and the steering rack is 10 per cent quicker. The steering is nowhere near as reactive as the F12’s and in a GT car, this is a good thing. Damn, I wish the Emirates had thought of building a few corners into this arrow straight highway you know, for a passing Ferrari.

The drive back to Dubai goes off uneventfully – I’m always happy when I get to stay out of jail – and I’m looking forward to pulling up at our hotel and throwing the valet the keys. I mean, how often do you get to do that?
We pull up at the lobby in convoy only to be completely outshone by a very pretty blonde in a red California. Well, that’s Dubai and Ferrari for you. You can never have enough.