What is it like on the inside?
So, it’s a bit stuffy inside. But it’s also deeply exciting and exotic, a wealth of dials, toggle switches and temperature sliders laid out like the discombobulating controls of a spaceship. It’s wonderfully weird on first acquaintance – serving up proper supercar drama – but dead easy to get your head around. A stark contrast to the head-scrambling touch-sensitive pads in its modern-day equivalent, the Ferrari Roma.
It’s also much roomier than the Roma, one of the benefits of not having a bazillion airbags inside nor any real nods to occupant safety besides ‘much visibility’. Get used to your legs pointing too far away from your torso and there’s bags of room up front; get used to your legs wrapping around a seat like you’re due an intimate examination and there’s bags of room in the back, too.
Easy to see out of, too?
So much glass negates the need for the swathes of active safety devices becoming mandatory in modern cars. The 308’s huge wraparound windscreen and so skinny they’re barely there A-pillars means you won’t miss the beeps and bongs a computer brain keeping lookout for you at junctions.
Any other highlights?
Yep. A nerdy upside of the GT4’s cramped pedal box: the long, slightly obtrusive hinged throttle pedal is basically positioned to turn the art of ‘heel and toe’ into ‘absolutely-any-bit of-your-trainer-you-like and toe’.
Scalpel-sharp response means you get it right almost every time, too: dumber, more eco-minded modern throttle pedals don’t allow that. The 308 isn’t so old that it absolutely requires blipped downchanges, but it’ll encourage them out of even the most ham-footed driver.