Also Ferrari-esque is the electrically assisted steering’s lightness at low speeds, and its two-turns-between-locks quickness. I’m not sure if that’s a result of benchmarking (if so, a McLaren 650S would have been a better reference), but it makes the four-wheel-drive Lamborghini agile at first, if a touch disconnected. It’s joined by a ride that is firm but not brittle – at least in the damper’s soft mode.
Up the speed, and the steering assumes a little more weight, a little less keenness, but decent accuracy and good eye for the straight-ahead.
There’s a fair degree of road noise, and a lot of mechanical engine clatter – although neither is unwelcome in a hard-edged supercar – but thanks to a powerful stereo and an 80-litre fuel tank, the Huracán makes a surprisingly accomplished daily driver. Not as much as a McLaren 650S, but still, Lamborghini admits it’s attempting to broaden the Huracán’s remit over the Gallardo. It has.
The question is, of course, whether pandering to a large market gets in the way of the purity for the enthusiast. The most recent Gallardos I drove have all been Superleggeras, and next to those, the Huracán feels less purposeful. That’s not because it lacks drama. Far from it.
Put your toe in, and induction and exhaust noises overwhelm chain and cam ones, and the engine fairly comes alive. The gearshift is superb, too, and there’s pop and crackle on the overrun. This is a world-class powertrain.
The shell feels stiff, too, and in any chassis setting the Huracán corners with extraordinary flatness and huge ability. It doesn’t pummel the road like a Nissan GT-R, but I’d be surprised if it covered ground any less quickly.
Grip levels and traction are of the highest order. Approach their limit and, while not feeding a great deal back through the rim, the Huracán will nudge towards a touch of understeer on a very well-sighted low-speed bend.
On the road, that’s your lot, which is just as well, because you wouldn’t want any more drama than that, given the speed you’d have to be going.
On track, then? I’m still not sure. A few runs didn’t reveal a great deal of adjustability, even in the wet. But maybe that’s no surprise. There’s 42 per cent weight over the front, limited body movement under braking, so very little weight balance transfer, while the front tyres are 245 section to the rears’ 305, and the front track is marginally wider than the rear.
Given, even in normal conditions, some 30 per cent of power heads to the front, you have to apply a lot of poke, very quickly, to overwhelm the rear’s traction.
If you can, the Huracán adopts a neutral stance on corner exit. If you can’t, it only troubles the front end. And in neither case is the steering particularly satisfying.
I’m told Lamborghini’s own test drivers prefer the passive steering rack, which is geared somewhere between the two extremes of this, so perhaps it’s a box best left unticked.