Blame it on my advancing years, or perhaps blame it on me becoming (even more) boring, but these days, I don’t see the appeal in driving fast any more.
That’s not to say I’ve stopped loving fast cars. The scream of a finely tuned V12, the rumble of a V8 and the crackle of an exhaust on the overrun still can send shivers down my spine.
But while those things are good (great, in fact), what I want to do most these days is cruise quietly and relatively slowly from point A to B.
I remember a time when I used to crave a hardcore racetrack weapon that’s had all the non-essentials (save for the air-conditioning, perhaps) stripped out in the interest of saving weight and with heavy-duty controls (clutch and steering), because that’s what racecars have.
I still think a racetrack weapon for the road is an incredibly romantic notion, which is why I love the Ferrari F40 so much, but I can imagine living with one on a daily basis in a nightmare.
I should know, I used to own a car with no sound insulation and a manic personality. While it was one of the finest cars I’ve had the privilege of driving, I don’t think I want it back.
Driving it takes too much effort, and these days all I want is some peace and quiet.
Oh dear, does this mean I’ll be hankering for a soft, soft-top cruiser next?
