Inside The Asylum

We go behind closed doors at lamborghini, italy’s quiet achiever – and talk to the boss about what the future holds

- Chris Chilton

The earliest surviving Countach is looking better – and more original – than it has in years. Rescued from a barn in Switzerland in 2000, and brought back to Sant’Agata, chassis #001 has spent the last two decades in Lamborghini’s on-site museum, which links the factory’s modern entrance with the ’60s original.

The museum’s much better for a recent refresh, and so is the car. Originally painted red for its appearance at the 1973 Geneva motor show, it was resprayed green for that autumn’s Paris salon, and has just received another coat of the same. But the big change is beyond those scissor doors. The original alcantara-covered dash and bizarre blocky seats that look like giant, slightly melted Cadbury’s Dairy Milk bars (which were replaced with regular production items when the car was sold off in the early ’70s) have been replicated with help of photographs from a period magazine.

It looks fantastic, though the driving position and overall total lack of comfort is as awful now as it was 14 years ago when I sat in the non-running Countach and made V12 noises to myself. Rooowwwwoooorrrrr!

One of the many pressing questions facing chief executive Stefano Domenicali is how Lamborghini can avoid leaving it to future customers to bring their own noise. Will it be possible for Lamborghini, a company whose legend is built partly around glorious howling engines, to transition to the electrified era in a way that’s true to its spirit – in sound, in style and in performance?