This is neither the time nor the place, weather gods! As our taxi from the airport splashes through another pool of standing water, wipers battering away sheets of rain from the screen, I can’t help but be overcome by an unsettling wave of panic. The introduction to tomorrow’s story would have to change drastically. “We’re here in Bengaluru to see how well the canvas roof on this Lamborghini Huracán LP610-4 Spyder holds up in the heart of an actual hurricane, and to test the benefits of AWD on a supercar in ankle-deep water.” We checked everything beforehand. But the weather report? It’s March, for crying out loud! I’m dreading the call I’ll inevitably have to make to the boss.
Mercifully, dawn breaks bright through clear skies, the only traces of last night’s torrent being some damp patches of tarmac. Soon our target is in sight. A statue so unassuming, we could easily have driven past it and never noticed. And yet it’s the very reason we’re here. It’s the Nandi Bull, the chariot of the gods, and presented here atop a high plinth at the base of the hill. The hill in question, of course, is Nandi Hills, the summit of which was once home to Tipu Sultan’s summer palace and still is home to ‘Tipu’s Drop’ – a decidedly cheery name for the ominous cliff from where the king would throw his prisoners to their doom. Gulp.
You can see where we’re going with this though, right? The Nandi Bull, the raging Italian bull, the chariot of the gods, a chariot to make us feel like driving gods. Alright, the link may seem a little tenuous, but when offered the chance to drive a Lamborghini in and around Bengaluru, we’d be foolish not to bring it here. Plus there’s the road itself. Forty bends, most of them hairpins, stitched together by 13km of ribbony tarmac which, as I’ve just found out, has been recently resurfaced. Yummy. That’s reason enough, I think.
Even though it’s early on a Tuesday morning, Nandi Hills has already got its fair share of visitors, mostly kids on their bikes or in their cars, probably as eager to hit those corners as we are. They’ll be on their way soon enough, we think. They’ll probably mind their own business and not even notice we’re here. But then the truck rolls up with what can only be described as a triangle wrapped tight in a grey sheet, and oh dear. There goes the peace and quiet. Suddenly the statue of Nandi is surrounded, and high on its pedestal, the bull has a better view than most of its counterpart as the wraps come off. I swear I just heard a shriek from somewhere in the crowd. And I can’t really blame them.
I’ve seen several Huracáns in my day, but whoever was responsible for choosing the spec of this one gets a meaty high five from me. The deep Blu Caelum paint paired with red brake calipers and tan leather upholstery is just right; a superb mix of flashy and classy. And then there are the wheels – Giano Nero Opaco Lucidato is what Lamborghini calls them, but what they are is matte black with white accents on the spokes. Makes it look like each corner of the car is suspended on five floating hexagons.
