In Pursuit Of Superlatives

- Anand Mohan

FIFTEEN MINUTES UP THE CLIMB, THE RACY Ferrari V8 was singing in my ears. I had passed a canyon as the wide snaking road meandered through two mountains and opened up to a dry crumbly cliff on my left and a steep drop on my right. The road straightened a bit before a bridge. I was far from the speed cameras of Dubai and the only car I had seen had passed me a few minutes ago. And so I came to a stop, turned the traction control off, stepped on the brakes and throttle for a bit and embraced some hooliganism in the following minutes. Maybe it’s not me, it’s the Quattroporte, or maybe us Indian motoring scribes are a bit loose in the head. But give us something Italian on a rare day up a winding road and you can bet your house and wife on it, we will drive it like a getaway car gunning out of a bank. Especially when there’s little fear of the law getting in our way. I was gunning for the Oman border at speeds I’ve never done before in something this long and big, it almost felt like I was making a dash for it, in well, what better way to put it – a mafia car. What was I doing on a desolate mountain road with a Quattroporte GTS? There need not be a reason, so I’ll make up something towards the end. But this is how it started...

The night before