No one expects supercars to ride like limousines, but the Aventador’s lack of compliance, especially at low speeds, is bad enough to make you envy the occupants of any passing Number 49.
True, the ride smooths out to somewhere near acceptability as speeds rise, but the symptoms of a car with spring rates more suited to the track than the road remain, especially in the wet. The car is too inclined to understeer in slow corners, a trait accentuated by what feels to be a tight differential at the back. However, with all four wheels doing the pulling, traction is still outstanding.
And there’s good stuff here. The hydraulic steering is terrific, with perfect gearing and genuine feel, allowing you to position the car to the inch every time while grip lasts. And the faster you go, the better the car is; at low speeds the car is too inclined to let its nose run wide of the apex, but if you can find a long, open and wide curve and find the courage to pitch the Aventador in at the kind of speed that would see most normal cars pockmarking the countryside, it is close to brilliant.