The seats are a bit flat, too, but the steering wheel is very adjustable. The flappy paddles are fixed to the column, with the column stalks below them. If you’re tall, you might inadvertently indicate with your knees. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss, etc.
But when you fire it up and all is (mostly) forgiven. All-new engine it might be, but it seemingly has lost none of its character.
Neither, sadly, has the gearshift, which is unrefined compared to a good twin-clutch unit. Oh, likewise the ride, which is good for a big Lamborghini, but fairly ropey by most other standards, including those adopted by McLaren and Ferrari.
There’s no denying this is a big car, too. At 2030mm wide (including mirrors, granted), it is too wide to be particularly enjoyable on anything other than the broadest A-road. And even then it’s too fast.
Still, I suppose if you’re in the market for a car like this, you’ll accept all that: and the real question is, with 690bhp, what’ll it do?
Faintly rearrange your internal organs, is the short answer. I’ve driven nothing this side of a Bugatti Veyron that feels this quick: not a 599 GTO, not an MP4-12C or a GT2 RS. Not even, in its relentlessness, an Atom V8.
In fact, in flat-out mode (there are Strada, Sport and Corsa throttle/gearbox maps), upshift is so brutal that they can make acceleration feel even more spectacular than a Veyron’s. The Bugatti just picks up, goes, and keeps on going. The Aventador punctuates every burst of acceleration with a pause, a duck of the car’s nose, and then another astonishing whack in the back.
And the handling? Friendlier than it was, but it needs a definitive technique to get the best from it. The Aventador corners fast and capably in all cases, but mostly wants to wash out its front wheels first, particularly in slower corners.
To get the back wheels involved in changing the cornering attitude you’ve got to do it on the way into the corner, by getting the (significant) weight behind you moving around. Do that and it’s more willing to engage both ends in the cornering line, but remains, I suppose inevitably given the mass of engine behind, less incisive than its peers.
I’m talking about on a track, of course. On the road, if you extract all of this car’s performance and potential, you’ll end up with the spell in chokey you probably deserve. All supercars are too fast to enjoy on the road.
Should I buy one?
If you’ve got regular access to a lengthy runway, or you live somewhere with wide, flat, long and empty roads, where traffic laws don’t exist or can be circumvented by the simple application of cash, maybe. The Aventador is a hugely effective way of transporting yourself several miles from where you were just a moment ago.
But if you’re after an all-round, complete supercar that’s painless – or even offers some tactile qualities - at road speeds, yet is entertaining on a normal-sized race track, I think you’ll be wanting to look elsewhere.
Price: £242,280; 0-62mph: 2.9sec; Top speed: 217mph; Economy: 16.4mpg; CO2: 398g/km; Kerb weight: 1620kg (est, 1575kg dry); Engine: V12, 6498cc, petrol; Power: 690bhp at 8250rpm; Torque: 508lb ft at 5550rpm; Gearbox: 7-speed automated manual