Tony Haycock , 3 Jun 2011

It was about 4.00am when Maggie woke me up. "Tony. There is a Lamborghini in our driveway". Now I am not quite sure what it was that it was that alerted her to this particular happening. Maybe it was the fact that a V12 Lamborghini when pulling up the aforementioned driveway at 11 at night is not exactly whisper quiet. Or maybe that Dave Wilkens from Bristol Restorations in Upper Hutt, along with his wife Serena, are now sleeping in our spare bedroom.

Whatever the reason, she is indeed correct. At our front door sits a black Lamborghini Gallardo Spyder. Covered with the bugs and grime which show it has driven quite some distance, and adding a touch of class to our street, not seen since the time there was a Grand Prix Bugatti sitting in my garage for a weekend.

A few days earlier Dave had called me, I suspect to gloat, as the conversation started with "My job sucks. I have to deliver a client’s Lamborghini south, and bring a Ferrari back!" I offered to swap places with him if the responsibility was too much, and beside that, he really didn’t have time. He had my brother’s 1929 Chevrolet tourer in his workshop for a new hood to replace the one removed, along with the bows and folding mechanism, by wind near Ohakune. Needless to say, my more than generous offer was declined, and for some reason Serena was seen as a more appealing passenger than a travel agent from Christchurch. Ungrateful sod…

So that is why there is an Italian supercar in my driveway, and why at 8.00am, Alex Mitchell from the Historic Aviation Film Unit is knocking on my door, armed with HD video cameras. With a camera in the back window, and another strapped to Dave’s chest, it was time for a demonstration. For some reason, Alex does not seem to trust me or my driver, and the instructions are clear. No speeding, and no saying "f**k". Apparently that does not make for good video. Boring bastard. 

So, what can I say about the ride? Nothing that would surprise you. It goes like stink. Goes around corners as if on rails and makes amazing V12 noises from the rear. Practicality takes a back seat to form. You could say the Lamborghini is designed for people with no friends. Put it this way, the small bag in the front luggage space was sufficient for Serena’s small soft bag, but Dave appeared to be without luggage entirely. However, with a car like this, you are going to have planet of friends. Possibly of the kind you would rather not! It is loud, brash, and certainly makes a statement, whether on the road, or parked. Driving down from Wellington on a very wet night, David was still getting accustomed to the car when we saw him. By the time he had gotten to Wanaka he was used to it, and it seems that when he took it for a drive over the Crown Range to Queenstown the Lamborghini was the ultimate car for the task.

While David and Serena, Maggie and I are making our way back from breakfast, having locating a café which was still standing, a text comes through on my phone. My old school friend Jo. has turned up at our place for coffee. Astute girl she is, she spotted the large black supercar hidden in full view in my driveway. "Swap the Lamborghini for a Renault?" I checked with Dave, and he seemed to think the Lamborghini’s owner would have little use for a Clio. He had attracted another new fan to the outrageous styling of the rampaging bull from Sant’Agata.