The front wings curve and curl ahead of you, the monstrous V12 bellows and barks behind you. The revs keep rising: 7000, 8000, 9000rpm. This is getting ridiculous. But it’s hard to back off, because there’s just a little bit of me that now thinks he’s Chris Amon and that this isn’t a road in France, but a track in America. Florida to be more precise, Daytona to be absolutely specific. And I’m winning the Scuderia’s first 24-hour race in the western hemisphere. Because that’s what he and Lorenzo Bandini did in 1967 and it is that event this car I’m driving exists to honour. It hasn’t won another since. But back off I do for I am neither Chris nor Lorenzo and, much as I’d like it to be otherwise, this is not a 1960s prototype sports racing car.
But it is the first time Ferrari has called a car ‘Daytona’, the 1967 front-engined 365 GTB/4
