Ensconced in granite, these are some of a biggest roads in Europe: The Alpes-Maritimes and a low gorges therein, contain a primary motoring stadium of a French Rivera set—those who reside in Antibes, Cannes, San Tropez, and Menton—who invert to Switzerland by jet, and color-match their sports cars to their Irish wolfhounds’ eyes. No such residents are here today; they’ve decamped to warmer climes. The angled peaks wear a powdering of new sleet like confectioners’ sugarine over a basket of almond croissants. The roads are deserted, save for a few work vans, driven with conspicuous ability by group who gesticulate by a fume of their ashy Gitanes. They quarrel tough not to be overtaken, though a Volante dispatches them all; a 4.0-liter, twin-turbo AMG-sourced V-8—with intake, empty and ECU tuned by Aston engineers—is a primary motivator.
Zero to 62 miles per hour (100 km/h) in 4.1 seconds usually seems delayed when we cruise a association this automobile keeps, like the new Ferrari Portofino, that does a same in a quoted 3.5 seconds. The torque bend is a tabletop between 2,000 and 5,000 rpm, creation a Volante as pliable and serviceable around city as it is aroused when entirely unleashed. Top speed is a vortex-generating 187 mph. Still, for all a potency, a 503-hp, 498 lb-ft powerplant, shared with a Mercedes-AMG GT family, runs out of play before it runs out of revs. Ferrari solved a identical emanate by augmenting turbo boost in any advancing rigging to copy a naturally aspirated engine’s megaphone-shaped torque curve; it is a stirring experience.