A RUSH OF BLOOD

296 GTB. GOOD NAME. A PROPER FERRARI NAME. No nonsense; no overwrought, flowery, marketing-led flourish, just a contraction of 2992cc, six cylinders and gran turismo berlinetta. Should we read this as a sign of confidence, a signal of intent? Perhaps this is what happens when you wade into battle with such a surfeit of power over your nearest and most obvious rivals.

Welcome to the world of the 296, an entry-level Ferrari (of the mid-engined range, at least) with a staggering 819bhp. Makes you think, doesn’t it? Maybe just don’t think too hard about the ramifications for real-world, useable performance for the rest of this feature.

I am trying to get my head around it all, too, as I sit inside a parked 296 on a deserted Spanish road in the southern hills around the Rio Tinto mine, surrounded by blood-orange cliff faces. The small of my back feels damp with sweat despite the chilled eddies of the climate control; my breathing is fast, my emotions a mixture of fear, guilt and delirious elation, in no discernible order. I have just felt, for the first time, the full, savage force of the 296’s performance and I am momentarily befuddled. I need a moment to perform a reset; to switch the Mk1 brainbox off and on again.

While I’m trying to sort that out, let’s feast on the details,