What is it like on the inside?
Be warned: if you’re over about five foot eight in height, the dream may collapse into rubble the second you climb aboard. 1960s cars are not known for their ergonomic sensibilities, and Italian cars especially appear to have been designed for apes somewhere lower down the evolutionary progress bar than the current model-year homosapien.
How does one go about fitting?
In short, you sit in a birthing position to accommodate the large slender steering wheel (a smaller one is optional) and press the brake and throttle pedals with the little toe of your right foot. Try to use the sole and you’ll depress both at once, unless you have Barbie-proportioned feet.
I had to drive this outrageously stylish automobile in my socks, because grotesque Hobbit-esque size-12s are a no-no. But the Cali Spyder is based on the short-wheelbase configuration of this series of Ferrari, so you were hardly expecting space to spare.
Doesn’t look like there’s much else to go wrong.
The low-rise seat is at least comfortable, and GTO will fit it to each and every customer’s liking before bolting into place. The cabin is gloriously simple: this example doesn’t have the under-dash USB socket for smartphone integration – you’d never hear Spotify anyway.
You’ve merely got an ignition key, a fuel pump switch, an indicator stalk and a bank of gauges. On a warm day, all of the temperatures and pressures in our test car remained rock steady. The speedo ready true. The only dial which told porky-pies? The clock. It worked, but only on a tropical time-zone.
The quality is mesmerising. It’s not as jewel-like as a Singer or an Eagle in here – but it’s faithful to what a factory-fresh Ferrari of this type would have aspired to smell, look and feel like inside. After an hour or so behind that gorgeous wheel, the transmission tunnel isn’t heat-soaking your thigh into a medium-well-done sizzle. The doors don’t rattle in their mountings. Wind noise isn’t intrusive to a conversation.
And much as smoking isn’t something GTO is trying to necessarily condone, the centrepiece ashtray is itself delightful. Prettier than a touchscreen too.