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A single press of a button means within 20 seconds it folds itself beneath the long, slatted, carbon-fibre engine cover, with the discreet assistance of six hydraulic cylinders and two electric actuators.

The choice remains to keep the shallow glass rear window in place or to slide it electronically downwards out of sight, restricting all intrusions on the Gallardo's extrovert visual impact.

The wedgy, cab-forwards stance remains with the roof removed, the drama of the sharply formed lines still flowing neatly from front to rear. The fussily detailed Ferrari F430 Spider seems stylistically confused by comparison.

Hood down, I'm immersed fully in the elements. Warm, humidity-laden tropical air floods in, massaging lungs and banishing memories of short, frozen days back home.

The Gallardo's interior is now exposed in all its hide-clad glory, soft contrast-stitched, white-piped, navy blue leather not just covering the dashboard and deeply sculpted seats but the door tops, the transmission tunnel and the inner windscreen surround too.

Most remnants of the interior that haven't ever seen service on the backsides of cows are fashioned from lustrous, deeply lacquered carbon fibre instead.

There's also a row of aluminium-edged rocker switches for the lights and stability control system that stretch right across the centre console, each bespoke Lamborghini in origin.

Just the satnav and digital read-outs within the instrument cluster give evidence of links to the Italian supercar maker's parent company, Audi, along-side the general depth of quality and precision detailing evident throughout the Gallardo Spyder - seldom a strength that could have been claimed for Lamborghinis previously.

The sense of exposure remains a constant distraction. Horns blare, thumbs are raised and I nearly slap the Gallardo into a section of Armco as a biker appears alongside, shouting a muffled squawk of encouragement before pulling a wheelie off into the distance.

Given the assortment of V8-propelled pick-ups, muscle cars and even delivery vans constantly pulling alongside, road racing is a different form of temptation, if not a recommendation.