FOR A CAR THAT MAKES A BIG noise about going fast, the Bugatti Chiron does a great job of going slowly. Slow, of course, is a relative concept. At 200 km/h, the kind of speed when your average affordable fast car is starting to breathe a little heavily, the Chiron’s cabin is an oasis of calm, your right foot treading as lightly on the right pedal as a pond skater dancing on the water’s surface. A pond skater that’s about to slip on some concrete wellies.
‘Okay, you can start picking up some speed now just to get ready,’ my codriver Loris tells me gently from the other side of the weird carbon septum that divides the passenger compartment. There’s a brow in the motorway ahead and traffic in the slow lane to the right. But I lean into the pedal because I trust Loris. Bugatti trusts Loris. So does Lamborghini. And Pagani, and Koenigsegg. Loris Bicocchi is the go-to man for supercar dynamic tuning.
But does Loris trust me? How must it feel to sit beside a stranger knowing you’re about to give them the okay to unleash 1,500 PS and do their absolute damnedest to go as fast as physically possible on a public road in a car that’s electronically limited to 420 km/h?
As we crest the hill and the motorway unfolds ahead, Loris nods his head slightly and makes a