Luxury Insider

After the apex of San Donato, at around 55 mph, you can start pushing hard again, but after a short straight there is a tight-ish left-hander, Luco, where you have to go down to 2nd, remembering to double-declutch and enter aggressively almost on the curb - so as to position yourself properly for the exit. You can rely on the great traction systems of the all-wheel drive LP640 and accelerate hard while exiting a corner, using the traction control's temporary cutting of power to regain composure and line up properly for the next corner.

I shift to 3rd momentarily before that, but have to downshift again for the Poggio Secco right-hander coming right up. The manual gearchange forces you to be smooth and diligent with your driving, while the coordination between the movements of your arms and legs must be absolutely perfect: your shifting must be quick so you can arrive at the corner with both your hands on the wheel. It is a unique sensation, gripping the pommel, shifting deliberately between the gears, and listening for the characteristic clicking of the stick on the gate.

Trust in the vast braking power of the 380 mm front carbon-ceramic discs (8 pistons alloy calipers) and the 355 mm. rear carbon-ceramic discs (4 pistons alloy calipers) that refuse to fade (but it’s an optional). Slowing hard for Casanova, you get a feeling of the car's substantial mass, and for a moment you start to wonder if the stoppers are up to the task. But the braking forces clear any doubt you might have had.

Through the Casanova, Savelli, and Arrabiata sweepers, the lateral forces are great, but the car digs in well and holds its line. Enter a bend a little too fast and you will feel the nose pushing wide of your intended path. Thanks to the four-wheel drive, however, the front wheels help to correct this and pull you out of trouble, so you can leave the drama behind you with a sedate and scornful smile like Steve McQueen used to have - although obviously, this car is no Porsche 917 racer like he drove in the movies.

Back on the track, another short straight opens up in front of me after Correntaio. I push on and shift up to 4th, and take a small breath - and a brief lift of the throttle - before the Biondetti left-right chicane, and accelerate to reach 110 mph, very briefly snatching 5th gear. Doing my best to maintain smoothness, I cannot shift directly from 5th down to 3rd, so I have to be a diligent student and pass through 4th gear with care and precision. There's the last curve, Bucine, that heads left into the descending pit straight. I'm flying through it at 70 mph and the curve is very wide, but I still have to work hard at the wheel - confidently, and precisely. Even if it feels as though the Murciélago is glued to the tarmac and thus, seemingly immune to crisis, it still demands respect. This means, however, a great chassis, a tubular frame structure made from high strenght steel with carbon fiber structural parts. And that, after all, It can rules over 1.665 kg (kerb weight) with a great strenght.

Thankfully, I have time for one last acceleration before passing through the finish line, so I am doing my best to hammer around the track while the sound of the gorgeous V12 envelopes me: topping 3rd, 4th, and 5th gear, reaching 145 mph before the artificial chicane - set up presumably to either put the brakes on my animal instincts, or to show that these carbon brakes can in fact get as hot as a stove but still not fail.