Italian Classic Supercars Archives

Lamborghini Diablo

The Lamborghini Diablo had to top the Countach – its wedge-shaped predecessor. To do so, it would need to be pretty special. Hence the fact that Marcello Gandini was given the design brief. He fulfilled it to perfection. All the way from the inlaid headlights, to the four-barrelled exhausts. The Diablo roared classic Italian supercar from the moment Gandini picked up his pen. It was Lamborghini’s mid-engined riposte to the Ferrari F40 – and the Diablo had all the allure of that Italian masterpiece. Materials used were state of the art. The Diablo was fitted with a strengthened carbon-fibre chassis. That was clad in aluminium and composite-plastic body panels. Lamborghini spent a cool £50m on development. Diablo is Spanish for ‘Devil’ – and there was a heck of a lot of detail to be paid for!

But, there was even more to the Diablo than stunning styling. For a roadster, its performance was off the graph. A 5.7-litre V12 maxed out at 492bhp. Top speed was a gargantuan 202mph. Indeed, the Diablo was the first production Lamborghini to attain that mythical figure. Torque measured a colossal 428lb-ft. From the Countach, Lamborghini had taken what was already an incredible engine – and improved it. Bigger – and tidier of design – it now came catalysed and fuel-injected. The Diablo hit 100mph in second gear alone.

They say the devil has all the best tunes. Their were to be several variations on the Diablo theme. SV, SV-R, Roadster and VT versions duly appeared. There were both 2- and 4-wheel drive models to choose from. The biggest beast of all was the limited-edition Diablo SE30. It topped out at 210mph. 0-60 came up in 4.2s. But – for all the Diablo’s power – comfort was not compromised. Ergonomics were expertly-crafted. Adjustable suspension was but an arm’s length away. Interior trim was impeccable. The sole flaw – if it can be considered so in a supercar – was a lack of luggage-room. But, when the choice was between storage space – and a more voluptuous V12 – most buyers did not hesitate. End of the day, the Diablo was not built to lug stuff about. Lamborghini were testing the limits of design and science!

Maserati Bora

The Bora was Maserati’s response to the Lamborghini Miura. It matched the latter’s mid-engined layout. Ferrari’s Berlinetta Boxer also joined the mid-engined party. But, it arrived late. The Bora beat the Boxer to it by a couple of years. The Bora was launched in ’71 – and the Boxer in ’73. The name of the game for the mid-engined cars was handling. In Maserati’s case, the Bora was an improvement on the Ghibli’s front-mounted motor. Now they had a car which could ‘handle’ however much horsepower was thrown at it. And the Bora produced plenty of it. Its 4.7-litre Maserati V8 was a motor of a certain age, by that point. Indeed, it now had twelve years on the clock. But – with 310bhp on tap – drivers were not much fussed about its timeline. The Bora was good for 175mph. That left many a motor half its age trailing in its wake!

The Bora was styled by Giorgetto Giugiaro. Previously employed by Ghia, he was now in his own studio. It went by the name of Italdesign. The full creative force of the firm was brought to bear on the Bora. Elegantly space-age, the car radiated Seventies chic. In other words – finesse and excess, in equal measure.

In engineering terms, too, the Bora exuded class. Even with its V8 heart beating for all it was worth, cockpit noise levels were almost eerily low. That had a lot to do with Citroën – who now controlled Maserati. They brought a host of hydraulic parts to the Bora table. Its brakes, pedals, seats and steering-column were precision-fitted by the French firm. The Bora was Maserati’s flagship model – so, equipment levels were high. In the whole of its nine-year run, the sole modification Maserati made was a slight engine enlargement, in ’76. Throughout that time – in true Italian style – the Bora delivered a bravura blend of power and panache!

Bugatti EB110

The ‘EB’ in Bugatti EB 110 stood for Ettore Bugatti – the firm’s founder. On the 110th anniversary of his birth, the new supercar was unveiled. Fittingly, the launch took place in Paris – since Bugatti was a French firm. When it went on sale – in ’91 – the EB110 had a price tag of £285,000. But, if the standard EB 110 was not to your taste, you could always stump up another £50,000 – and drive off in the Supersport version. The latter’s 611bhp output delivered 221mph! The stock EB 110’s top speed was 212mph. If you had the money – do the math!

Superstar designer Marcello Gandini was recruited to style the EB 110. His mock-up, though, was deemed too radical by Bugatti’s top brass. The brief was passed to Italian architect Giampaolo Benedini. Clearly, he was able to style cars, as well as buildings! The aluminium body he drafted was breathtaking. Even the car’s engine was a work of art. Its V12 layout took in 4 turbochargers and 60 valves. There was a 6-speed gearbox – and 4-wheel drive. Handling was precise – to put it mildly!

In ’87, entrepreneur Romano Artioli had stepped in to rescue the struggling Bugatti brand-name. He built a state of the art supercar factory – in Campogalliano, Modena, Italy. Benedini – the EB 110’s designer – had previously architected the factory in which it was built! The EB 110 thus became a sort of French/Italian hybrid – the only Bugatti model to have done so. To head up the engineering team, Artioli had hired acclaimed technical director Paulo Stanzani. The EB 110’s four-year run stretched to ’95 – when Bugatti was wound up. 139 EB 110s were built. Among their owners was a certain Michael Schumacher. The ultimate seal of automotive approval? Off hand, I cannot think of a better one!

Lamborghini Countach

The Lamborghini Countach was styled by Bertone – Italian masters of automotive design. In its first incarnation, the Countach flew to a top speed of 186mph. That was exceptionally quick in the Seventies. Its engine – a classic Lamborghini V12 – produced 375bhp. Again – in the 1970s – that was a gargantuan stat. The models that followed output still more power.

Handling-wise, too, the Countach was well up to snuff. Mid-engined as it was, its gearbox was at the front – nestled snugly beneath the banana seats. Weight distribution was optimised. As a consequence, the Countach’s cornering capabilities soared. A 5-speed set-up only added to the fun!

Countach is a Piedmontese exclamation/expletive. In its mildest form, it means ‘wow’ – though it can have fruitier connotations! Certainly, the first definition was more than apt. Later versions of the Countach, though, somewhat over-egged the stylistic pudding. Pointless spoilers – and over-sized wheel-arches and ducts – bordered on the kitsch. To be fair, by the time such models hit the showrooms, the firm’s founders were no longer at the helm. Financially, it found itself in choppy waters. Latter-day faux pas notwithstanding, it was largely down to the Countach that Lamborghini stayed afloat. When it made its début – in ’74 – the Countach stunned show-goers. Lamborghini’s rivals were left reeling. In a way – over the course of its run – the Countach summed up the Seventies. Insomuch as it was a decade which could veer wildly between masterpiece and parody!

Lancia Delta HF Integrale

It would be difficult to overstate the impact made by the Lancia Delta HF Integrale. It swept aside all comers – on the road and in competition. In the year and a half following its ’87 launch, the Delta Integrale won 14 World Championship rallies. Miki Biasion made the most of its dominance. He garnered two world drivers’ titles in the car.

The Integrale’s 8-valve engine made 185bhp. In ’89, it was replaced by a 16-valve head. Power increased to 200bhp. The new model totted up 13 top-echelon rally wins. Juha Kankunnen duly took the ’91 drivers’ title. Over time, the fruits of such success trickled down to the showrooms. The road-going Integrale’s finely-tuned 4-wheel-drive set-up gave good handling – in all conditions. Combine that with a 2-litre turbocharged motor – and you had a perfect blend of speed and precision. As a hatchback, practicality was a given. But, there were luxuries, too. Like Recaro seats, electric front windows and a cutting edge instrument panel.

Wide wheels and fat tyres helped give the Integrale a look of purposeful muscularity. Giorgetto Giugiaro – at the Italdesign agency – did the styling honours. The bodywork was minimalist, not boxy! The original Delta – built for rally homologation reasons – was first glimpsed at ’79’s Frankfurt Motor Show. It was followed by a Delta dynasty of progessively more sophisticated models. Lancia’s HF acronym stood for High Fidelity. It was applied to several of the marque’s cars over the years. Never more fittingly, though, than to the Delta Integrale!

Lamborghini Murciélago

The Lamborghini Murciélago was styled by Belgian Luc Donckerwolke. He had been chief designer at Audi – which, in ’98, was taken over by Lamborghini. Traditionally, the latter had recruited Italian design houses. On that basis, Bertone were briefed to create the new car. And indeed, their work was ready to go into production. At the last, though, the Bertone project was canned. The design reins were duly passed to Donckerwolke.

When the Murciélago was launched, it was with no lack of fanfare. Sicily’s Mount Etna provided the backdrop. The accompanying son et lumière show was equally spectacular – including, as it did, a volcanic eruption. Well, a virtual one, at any rate!

Designer Donckerwolke decked the car out in razor-sharp lines. Bodywork was carbon-fibre and steel. The chassis was fashioned from high-tensile tubing. Given the supercar’s shape, a low drag coefficient was a gimme. As a result, top speed for the Murciélago was a searing 205mph. 0-60 appeared in 3.85s. Notwithstanding, steady torque delivery – and electronic engine management – rendered the car relatively tractable. Suspension and brakes were, naturally, state of the art. Late in the day though it had been, Lamborghini’s decision to give the design gig to Luc Donckerwolke paid off. The Murciélago exhibited plenty of Italian flair … as well as a dash of Belgian panache!

Lamborghini Espada

The Lamborghini Espada was designed by Bertone. Their styling standards were of the highest – both inside and out. Sitting pretty atop the tail lights, for example, was a clear glass panel. Not only was it a sweet visual flourish – it assisted with parking, too. An impressive blend, then, of form and function. The Espada’s interior was state of the art. Its focal point was a control console, between the front seats. The console – and ‘techie’ dashboard above it – housed an aircraft-type array of dials and switches. And – Sixties supercar though it was – the 4-seater Espada was far from cramped.

The top-spec Espada was good for 155mph. It was powered by a 4-litre V12. The motor sat beneath an alloy bonnet. Pierced NACA ducts adorned the front profile. Engineering-wise, a one-off 5-speed gearbox did shifting duty.

The Espada’s ride was smooth and pliant. That was aided by all round wishbone suspension – plus, a wide track and fat tyres. Overall, handling was excellent. Power-steering and auto transmission were options on later models. The Espada was based on the Marzal concept car. On its release – in ’68 – the Espada set a new speed benchmark for 4-seaters. So – in every automotive aspect – the Lamborghini Espada was a genuine Italian masterpiece!

Ferrari Daytona

The Ferrari Daytona was launched in ’68. Those in attendance were probably expecting a mid-engined equivalent of the Lamborghini Miura. If so, they were wrong. The Daytona on display that day was a front-engined GT car. Designed by Pininfarina, it was in the traditional sports car mould. A multi-tube frame, for example, supported a steel shell.

Despite its relative orthodoxy, the Daytona was still the fastest road car on the planet. Flat out, it was good for 174mph. Its V12 motor meted out 352bhp – via a manual 5-speed ‘box. Capacity was 4,390cc. Dampening down performance was weight. The Daytona had a lot of it to lug about. 3,530lb, in all. Saying that, the weight was at least evenly distributed. Rearward positioning of the gearbox/trans-axle unit helped counterbalance the frontal mass of the engine. Wishbone and coil suspension – on a firm anti-roll setting – provided plenty of traction. A tad difficult around town, the more the Daytona was given its head, the better-behaved it became. Steering lightened up nicely. Road-holding grew increasingly precise.

For a car of its class, the Daytona’s interior décor was far from lavish. Electric windows, contoured leather seats and air conditioning, though, did come as standard. Only 1,426 Daytonas were built. Overall, however, it was a success in the showrooms. Of course, the car was christened after the legendary American race-track. Ferrari had picked up many a win at The Daytona Raceway, over the years. So, it was a fitting name for what would become one of the most celebrated of Ferrari sports cars.

Ferrari F50

How to top the Ferrari F40? Well, with the Ferrari F50, of course! While the former was focused solely on speed, the new car offered more by way of creature comfort. Even so, the F50 was far from luxurious – given that it was a supercar, retailing at £330,000. There were leather seats, though, for starters – of course, cast from carbon-fibre. And, the front suspension spring/damper set-up was transverse – allowing extra leg-room. The F50’s ride was smooth, considering its performance stats. They were upped by a ‘firm’ computerised damping system. A V12 engine – and 6-speed gearbox – gave up tractable power. Precise steering was provided by titanium uprights, magnesium wheels and all-metal ball joints.

So, with a top speed of 202mph – and lightning-quick reflexes – the F50 was, effectively, a road/race hybrid. Its 5-litre motor made 521bhp. The 5-valves-per-cylinder V12 had its roots in F1 – in 1990’s Ferrari 641/2. Saying that, peak revs for the road car were 8,500rpm. Rather less than the 14,000 for the GP car! Still – with chain-drive spinning its quad overhead camshafts – the sound from the roadster was still pretty ear-splitting! By contrast, the F1 car’s engine used gears.

The Ferrari F50, then, was technically awesome. Naturally, it needed styling to match. Up to the plate stepped Pininfarina. The esteemed Italian design house unveiled a feast of tastefully-placed lines. Ducting was particularly delicious. Cowled projector headlights lit up the front-end. Inside, the LCD instrument panel was straight out of F1. A ‘black box’ flight recorder was also included! Track days inevitably beckoned – brakes and suspension both being race-derived. 349 Ferrari F50s were built. All they needed was a road with enough scope!

Ferrari F40

The F40’s name referenced forty years of the Ferrari marque. It was boss Enzo Ferrari’s brainchild … but, even he had to get board approval! Once given, the project was passed to Pininfarina. The doyen of Italian design agencies had a longstanding relationship with Ferrari. Just a year passed for the F40 to go from concept to production. It helped that it was based on the Ferrari 288 GTO. Theoretically, then, the F40 was a roadster. Practically, though, it required little modification to go racing. In large part, that was down to its weight – or lack of it. For a car that cost $275,000, there was a notable lack of luxury. Indeed, the cabin verged on the spartan!

The F40’s low weight was down to its bodywork. Composite materials had been used to fashion it. They were 20% lighter than their metallic counterparts would have been. That – and minimal interior décor – meant the F40 weighed in at just 2,425lb. Add a 288 GTO V8 engine – and the result was explosive! The 3-litre twin-turbocharged set-up was fitted with sequential ignition and fuel injection. There were silver/cadmium con-rod bushes and nicasil-coated liners. Grand total – 478bhp. ‘Competition mode’ threw in a further 200bhp, if needed.

The F40 topped out at 201mph. 0-60 arrived in 3.9s. On its ’87 launch, it was the fastest road-going Ferrari yet. It stayed in production until ’92. Even the standard version featured a raft of competition parts. It had Group C brakes, 3-piece wheels and removable rear bodywork. Oh, and soft fuel cells. The racing pedigree of the Ferrari F40 was clear to see!