A two Michelin starred restaurant is where I would like to commence all car reviews from now on. Fine dining, fine wines and fine cars were on the menu at Terre, Vincent Crepel’s feted restaurant just outside of Cork. The obvious link between a Charanmushi (Kristal Caviar, Scallop, Stone Crab and Bone Broth) and the Ferrari Purosangue is that both are somewhat unexpected. This is a route Ferrari once said it would never go down. Making a four-door, four-seat car that is, not combining bone broth and caviar.
Such is the way of the world right now, however, that even the cavallino rampante must now adorn an SUV. Whilst Ferrari, not unfairly as we shall explore, riles against the Purosangue being called an SUV, people want large, four-door four-seat and incredibly powerful cars. A rumoured waiting list of four years bears testament to that. Was combining practicality and a naturally aspirated V12 ever going to miss the mark with customers?
In typical Ferrari fashion, the Purosangue goes its own way in the sector. In fact, you could probably call it a GT. The formula is there, with lots of cylinders out front, opulence in the middle and plenty of storage space. You’d have few qualms about running one down to the Amalfi Coast and back.
I had few qualms in running one from Cork to Killarney along the coastal route of southern Ireland. A fine mix of highways and B-roads awaited, with a stop in Bantry Bay for a spot of lunch.
Emerging into the gloom of an overcast Thursday morning, the site of five Ferraris lined up did much to lift the spirits. At the back sat the Purosangue. In comparison to the Romas and 296s, it looked gargantuan, but in isolation it seems to shrink. It’s an interesting piece of design because it manages to contradict itself in many ways. It looks massive but somehow small; the 22” at the front and 23” at the rear wheels dominate and diminish in equal measure. The Ferrari Purosangue also looks better in person than it does in the photos.
What’s immediately clear is that the SUV tag doesn’t sit comfortably on the Ferrari Purosangue. To loosely put it in the same bracket as a Bentayga or Cullinan doesn’t work. Yet the same is true for putting it in the same bracket as a DB12 or Continental. So, we have something that sits on its own yet is also unmistakably Ferrari.
That’s an important point, because at no stage does the Ferrari Purosangue feel like a sellout. Whilst the idea may make Enzo turn in his grave, the execution won’t. This is so much more than a few Ferrari stickers on a lazily assembled SUV with a tubthumping engine to justify the whole ensemble.
Its unique proportions mean inevitable compromises; it won’t swallow luggage like an Urus. We got two small suitcases and three rucksacks in the boot easily enough. Rear head space for those over 6ft is cramped; I had to have the seat in its most upright position to avoid contact with the roof.
What you do get, however, is comfort. Spending five hours in the Ferrari Purosangue, through a mix of Ireland’s roads, didn’t provoke any back ache.
The initial forays into morning traffic were more explorative than definitive. A time to adapt to the infotainment and the volume of controls on the steering wheel. At first overwhelming, they become intuitive with time. One factor that immediately revealed itself, however, was the ride quality. The Ferrari Purosangue made easy work of the hotel’s speed bumps. There’s no doubt that you’d be perfectly comfortable on the daily in here.
It’s also not a car that’ll ruffle the feathers of your neighbours on startup each morning. Despite the presence of a 6.5ltr naturally aspirated V12, the Purosangue is restrained at idle, even polite. But it does have, you know, a naturally aspirated V12.
Bring the flappy paddles into play and shift it through the gears, then the V12 clears its throat and makes its presence heard. As do the 715bhp and 716Nm of torque make themselves felt. This is a riotously quick car. 0-62mph takes just 3.3secs and unlike some of its heavier brethren, its acceleration doesn’t flatten too dramatically beyond that.
What this results in is a genuinely multi-faceted driving experience. You can amble gently around, merging into the local landscape far more easily than you can in, say, a 296. The Ferrari Purosangue glides through towns serenely, gently nudging through the cogs of its eight-speed box. Get out the other side, however, flick the manettino round to ‘sport’ and you can raise hell.
Left to auto, the gearbox can be a bit slow to respond, even to a stern right foot. The drive mode selected impacts this, but overtakes are best primed for with the use of the magnificent carbon fibre paddles. Responses are near instant and it brings you into the driving experience that little bit more.
The Purosangue ticks off the mundane scenarios as a car of its stature should. The key question is whether it’s befitting of the badge once the road opens up and you want to enjoy all that power and performance.
Away from the N25 and onto the N71, Ireland almost begs you to enjoy the drive. The scenery constantly evolves and tempts you with myriad photo opportunities. The road itself mixes brand-new tarmac and pockmarked, scarred surfaces. It twists and turns as it meanders towards the coast, leaving no time to get bored. If it’s not the road engaging you, it’s the sights and sounds.
If any roads could unsettle a two-ton Ferrari, these were them. Over some of the more weathered patches of road, however, the suppleness of the Purosangue enables you to carry more speed than you would in a supercar. With harsh undulations you’d be wary of the car bottoming out, not so in this.
Whilst the ride quality consistently impressed, the way the Purosange shrinks around you never ceased to amaze. You can really get into the zone, brake late, power out of turns early and it’s never flustered, nor overtly synthetic.
One initial gripe was with the brakes. At slower speeds they are very grabby, leading to sharper braking than expected when trying to simply scrub a bit of speed. They do, however, continue Ferrari’s tradition of producing non-squeaking carbon ceramic brakes. It’s a trick no one else seems capable of pulling off so well and so consistently.
When you get to higher speeds, they force you to forgive them their foible. They’re an immediate reminder that, yes, this is a Ferrari. The modulation becomes brilliant when you’re hustling. It’s the same with the steering, being as sharp as you’d expect from the marque.
A final stop on the road to Killarney at Moll’s Gap provided yet another photo opportunity atop a twisty climb. On the narrower sections, the Purosangue began to feel a bit bigger, but at no stage do you lose confidence in it. Dare I say it, there were hot hatch levels of enjoyment to be found, which is remarkable for a car of such potency and proportion.
At no stage did it ever threaten to break traction. It never felt overstretched or out of its depth. Along a route which didn’t scream natural fit for its talents, it simply excelled. It might not be a Ferrari for the purists, but it’s certainly a Ferrari for the modern age.
Turning off the Ring of Kerry and into The Europe Hotel in Killarney, it was impossible not to have one last listen to that V12. Windows down, neutral engaged, playing a tune with your right foot, the Ferrari Purosangue possesses a soul that underpins the entire experience. Where others have badged up big engines, Ferrari has gone its own way. The big engine is central to the Purosangue, certainly, but there’s a deftness and subtlety to the experience that goes beyond hammering physics with trickery and power. It doesn’t feel as synthetic as its competitors. It feels like a Ferrari.
People with deep pockets have deep expectations. Power, performance, comfort, practicality, engagement; it’s an imposing list of desires. It’s a list, however, that the Purosangue runs through ticking all the boxes as it goes. It could easily have been caught flat-footed along Ireland’s rugged coastline, but it wasn’t. If you could only have one car on the drive, there is perhaps no finer all-rounder than this.
