Its brakes are similarly state of the art, and feature carbon ceramic discs with six-piston callipers at the front, four at the rear. Even its body parts are fashioned mostly from carbonfibre (although the bonnet, bumpers and doors are made from aluminium). What we’re talking about, in other words, is a car that may look and sound like a traditional raging bull but one that’s very much at the leading edge of things technically.
What’s it like?
Outrageous is the word that keeps on popping into one’s mind when attempting to describe what this car is actually like. As with the Murcielago, the doors open upwards to reveal a cabin that initially seems a very long way away, the high-backed driver’s seat nestling just inches above the ground.
But when you climb inside the similarities between old and new come to an abrupt end. The interior of the Aventador is every bit as new and revolutionary as its engine, gearbox or suspension. And, mostly, it works as good as it looks.
Whether the new digitised instruments will receive universal approval will remain a talking point for years to come, you suspect, but the basic ergonomics inside are hugely better than in the Murcielago. Not only is the driving position much better organised, with pedals that are no longer angled in towards the centre of the car, there’s also more room for your head and elbows plus better visibility in all directions.
And yet it still feels unequivocally like a Lamborghini inside this car, especially when you discover the start button beneath its bright red cover within the centre console, and then summon the courage to give it a prod. Do so and you’ll hear a familiarly charismatic scream from the starter motor, followed by a quite outrageous eruption of revs when the engine fires. As if climbing into a bright red Lamborghini via one of its vast scissor-doors isn’t somehow theatrical enough on its own.
Even at five miles an hour this car sounds and feels fantastically alive beneath your backside. To begin with the steering seems lighter and a lot less cumbersome than you remember, the ride massively more refined (than in a Murcielago). The entire car, in fact, feels more mature than you were expecting given the history.
But the big news, inevitably, concerns the performance, and I can tell you here and now that it is astonishing – to the extent that you do not just climb aboard this car and nail its throttle to the floor at the first sign of a decent road. You build up to that moment, slowly, and discover other things about this incredible car en route.
Like how explosive its throttle response is, even at 4000rpm, and how switching between its various drive modes (strada, sport and corsa) alters not just the gearchange speed and severity but the crispness of the engine mapping as well. Which, as you’ll eventually discover later, will allow you to do things on the throttle in this car that you’d never even dreamed of doing in a Murcielago.
And then there’s the gearshift itself, which Lamborghini claims is 40 per cent swifter than a Gallardo Superlegerra’s, making it “one of the world’s fastest ever automated gearboxes”.
It’s not a dual clutch system but it does pre-select ratios, so the effect is almost the same – in theory. In practice, however, it’s a long way from swapping ratios as quickly or as smoothly as a Ferrari 458 or McLaren MP4-12C. As ever, Lamborghini has engineered the shifts to feel as dramatic as possible. In corsa mode you get a mighty thump in the back on upshifts and a huge burst of revs on downshifts. Which is great when you’re in the mood for it but not always 100 per cent desirable.