Driving a supercar is something we all dream of, even if we don’t admit it because we’re too cool for school. For Editor Ottley, driving supercars has become a regular chore, but it’s not something you want to take for granted.
But what’s it like really living with a supercar? In particular a half-million dollar McLaren Artura? Well, if you want the conventional rundown, you can read Ottley’s review here. But I wanted to do something different and take you behind-the-scenes to what become quite an eventful weekend with this British beast.
READ MORE: 2023 McLaren Artura review
Firstly, when you pick up a supercar it’s like hopping aboard a diamond crusted unicorn with suicide wings/doors. The magnetic force in which it pulls eyeballs (everytone from tradies to kids to cops) and occasionally drama is astonishing. Perhaps in the US or Europe, these cars are more commonly seen on the street. Not so in Australia. I have gone weeks without seeing a McLaren supercar on the road, and I’m cruising the street a lot.
The Artura is McLaren’s first ever plug-in hybrid, sitting at $449,500 plus on-road costs (and depending how hard you option up) with 500W and 720Nm. And to loan this unicorn, there are many, many documents and approvals required to acquire the keys to such a machine, plus a hefty excess. You literally sign your life away.
The Artura is programmed to start silently in electric mode which makes it excellent for a quiet, subtle getaway. Then you flick into Sport mode and it bares its teeth, roaring into action. The interior is stripped back to the absolute minimum. You have the interactive screen which is highly intuitive, D/N/R buttons and a few toggles on the dash to set the handling and modes. It takes eight-seconds to raise the front for speed bumps and driveways and besides that, take your fob and fob off.
The handling is exquisite, it feels outrageous to drive. It ferociously grips the road when aggressively turning into corners but I wasn’t heading out for a track day so I don’t know what it feels like to get to 250km/h – I would imagine ecstasy.
It’s funny, I drive many different cars but there’s something about a Volcano Yellow supercar in tight Sydney traffic that makes you pucker a little harder. The fear of someone driving into you is a real thing, people are almost leaving their lanes to get closer. Fair to say, I was thrilled to make it home to the safety of my underground car park. This car park is shared with others in my apartment complex and the neighbourly appreciation blew up my phone. The requests for a ride also came in thick and fast. There was fat chance any of them were going for a burn. I did allow them to listen to me rev the engine once… (How was it received? imagine a bunch of teens at a Tay Tay concert).
So where to take this magnificent beast? To the Hunter Valley of course! My good friends at Brokenwood Winery were as keen as I was to take this beast for a decent spin so that would be our chosen destination.
My partner insisted we get coffee at our local coffee joint, where everyone we know hangs out on a Sunday morning, generally in trackies with two year olds. I refused to get out of the car and have a sneaking suspicion they now all think I’m a drug dealer as this is not the first supercar I’ve pulled up in.
One massive coffee, no food and off we go! We hit the highway, things are good, 110km/h and I can finally relax even though I have five shots of caffeine running through my veins with no toast; what a silly idea. Never mind, I’m driving an Artura!
Then it happens… we see a cop car.
He’s on the side of the road but he’s slowly pulling out as we drive past. You can probably guess what happened next. Wee ahhh, wee ahhh. This is not good for many reasons, for starters, it’s very uncomfortable and extremely precarious pulling over on the side of a highway with barely any run off.
“Ma’am I need to check your license and ask you to count to ten in the breathalyser,” says Johnny Law.
Well of course my digital license isn’t refreshing. And my hands are shaking like leaves due to the five shots of coffee and zero toast. To be fair, I assume I’ve done everything possible wrong whenever I get pulled over so I’d probably be shaking regardless. License won’t refresh, I have sign in again. There’s no signal. I forget my password. This goes on for 30 minutes.
Then he pipes up “to be honest I pulled you over for professional reasons but I actually own a vintage Ducati that is the exact same colour and I wanted to take a closer look.” Well, by this stage I couldn’t give a rats about his Ducati, he was half way to ruining my Supercar Sunday. Finally he let us get on our way, 45 minutes later. With full points and my license, praise be. I was innocent all along.
Then, more drama. We hear this strange thumping on the passenger side outside so pull into two car spaces at a petrol station (hello suicide doors), directly behind out mate, PoPo, and jump out. What do we find? There’s a stick in the door! How on earth, we didn’t even open the door for the stick to jam?! Stick out, problem solved, no damage.
Drama over… or so I thought.
It’s 35 degrees and we’re late so we should get moving. Weirdly, the car won’t start. We’re seeing instructions on the dash but nothing is happening. We do a couple of checks but still nothing. It can be extremely confusing in a hybrid car that always starts in electric because it makes zero sound when starting. We hop out of the car, it won’t even lock. By this stage we’ve pulled quite a large crowd and people are enjoying photos and selfies.
I’m at a sweaty, hot, boiling rage point. I can’t even get any A/C. Finally we decide the battery in key fob must be flat. So we pull out the physical key but can’t work out where on earth to stick it. We find the manual online, 140 pages long. So we Google, not much there either. Thank god we were at a servo and able to buy a little round battery and use their scissors to open the packet. Finally, it starts. Damn you, Duracell! Please note, that was not McLaren’s fault, just a freaky situation.
Finally we’re on the road again, hurrah! Only 90 minutes late and questioning whether we just turn around now because a higher power does not want us to get to Brokenwood in this unicorn.
But we do and after all our dramas we make it to the Hunter and we’re so glad we pushed on. The drive was divine, the car is sensational and now I need a wine as I hand the keys over to my designated driver.
Driving a $500k supercar is certainly fun, but can also be a stressful, dramatic experience!
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