Ferrari Amalfi

The replacement for the Roma brings more power, a new look and - hallelujah! – actual buttons in its revamped interior

- by YOUSUF ASHRAF PHOTOGRAPHY by ASTON PARROTT

'STOP!' YELLS ASTON PARROTT FROM the passenger seat.

'Stop stop stop.' That means either something terrible has happened or – as I'm hoping – his photographer's eye has spotted something too good to miss. We swing left and the tyres crunch to a halt in a gravel layby, V8 timbre falling to an idle hum. 'That'll be a cool shot,' he says, looking at a derelict manufacturing complex over the road, strewn with graffiti and crumbling to bits. It's a beige, featureless building that looks like a prime spot for underground crime. Hmm. I'm struggling to see the vision.

Nose lift up, we teeter through the entrance and past an empty security booth, carefully dodging nails and debris. It's an eerie place, the building's internals stripped bare and acting like a speaker box for the exhaust as we trundle inside before Aston jumps out to guide me into position – tongue out, brow furrowed as he frames the shot in his mind. This is the last place you'd ever imagine finding a Ferrari, but the Amalfi somehow looks just right. Quite stunning in fact, its smooth muscular form and Verde Costiera paintwork – a kind of liquidy turquoise new for this car – popping vividly against the stark industrial backdrop.

The low morning light picks out the Amalfi's flowing curves – and the changes compared with its predecessor, the Roma. The new bonnet and central power bulge, for example, plus the reshaped flanks, where three body creases meet like an arrowhead on the doors. And the new nose graphic that – whisper it – you might say has a whiff of Toyota Prius about it...