For some it’s Mecca, for others Jerusalem or a hidden spiritual hideaway in a misty far-off land. Picture, if you will, a blood-red Ferrari as the pulpit, the scream of the exhausts the sermon, the millions of enthusiasts its followers and Maranello home to the high priests of the world’s most iconic car.
Welcome, then, to what for anyone who has ever drooled over any – and I mean any – Ferrari can only be described as a pilgrimage to the motoring world’s most holy place.
No century-old cathedrals, magnificently painted ceilings depicting biblical stories or ancient myths – just pure, unadulterated motoring heaven.
Talking of which so, too, is Etihad Airways’ first class…
Invited as guests of the airline – one of Ferrari’s main sponsors – a group of us spent time in Abu Dhabi and Maranello to savour the thrill of the prancing horse.
You don’t have to be a lover of cars, or indeed Ferrari, but to be able to walk through the factory, see the restoration division, topped by being one of the 200 000 annual visitors to the Ferrari museum, has to be almost up there with being present when your first child is born.
Sound emotional? Damn it, yes. I’ve sat down many a time to watch a Grand Prix only to see the Ferrari succumb again to some catastrophe. End of the race for me. If it ain’t a Ferrari it ain’t racing.
Apparently Fiat’s chairman, Luca Cordero di Montezemolo, has it even worse. He doesn’t attend races but prefers to sit in a hotel room from where he can yell abuse or throw things at the TV screen.
The moment we landed in Milan in a slight drizzle, hit the highway in peak hour and headed to Maranello, things just seemed to be in a natural order. Or, it being Italy, disorder.
For someone who often drives around Gauteng cluttered with thousands of cars (mostly Japanese), it was fantastic to see roads jammed with Alfa Romeos and Fiats. Italian cars are my prejudice: it’s my story, so you’ll have to indulge me.
Maranello is Ferrari and Ferrari is Maranello. Everyone and everything has some form of affiliation to Ferrari. Flower beds and trees are cut into various Ferrari models, factory workers stroll through the streets with Ferrari overalls, restaurants and bars have the logo emblazoned everywhere and tourists pay a month’s wages to record themselves behind the wheel of a supercar as they crawl through the streets. Want to go for a late-night drink? “Try the Ferrari Bar just up the road.” Serious.
Being with a diverse group of journalists has its perks – like being in Maranello – but so, too, when it comes to ordering food. We didn’t have to order off the menu and were treated to Italy’s finest pasta, meats and wine.
Not good for the waistline, but when in Rome… Oh yes, we were also introduced to the taste of Limoncello, the traditional Italian lemon-flavoured liqueur.
You’ve probably seen TV footage of cars being manufactured. Hundreds of robots spinning and whizzing and a production line of cars spewed out at the other end. Not so at the Ferrari factory. Mostly humans here, with only two robotic arms, called Romeo and Juliet, involved with the engines’ valve systems.
For sure, a factory that produces cars and looks better than some offices I’ve visited in South Africa.
The Italian company has its focus on the worker. There are two layers of glass in the walls, a constant temperature of 24ºC in summer and 22ºC in winter, large green areas in the factory – an indication of the air quality in the place and aesthetically very relaxing – and noise control. All of the energy produced in the factory is converted and coupled with solar panels, so it’s completely self-sufficient.
The only place they don’t have pictures or cars in their faces is in the state-of-the-art canteen.
Their live “art display” of cars scattered around the factory would have shamed even Brett Kebble at the height of his buying spree. It’s live in the sense that car owners can bring their vehicle in at any time for it to look pretty… and show me one Ferrari that hasn’t turned heads.
And if it doesn’t look pretty, send it to the Ferrari Classiche division, which will restore your baby back to its original spec sheet and also issue it with a certificate of authenticity. If they can’t source an original part, they will machine one. Think I’m joking? The archive contains the assembly sheets for all the cars built at Maranello since the first one hit the tarmac in 1947.
Between five and six cars a day come off the assembly line so it’s not a hive of organised chaos. That’s because each car is manufactured to a specific set of orders. So you may have two Californias behind each other on the line, but apart from the badge and the mechanics, they could be completely different.
Once it leaves the line, the final test, apart from a 100km or so spin under different conditions, is carried out by a bloke who runs his bare hands over the body to test for imperfections.
Want one? Sorry, not off the showroom floor. Each car is crafted to an individual’s needs, and if, say, Elton John or Paris Hilton wanted a pink one with an outlandish interior, it would have to be okayed by a committee in Maranello. Chances are it won’t happen – which is why when it comes to managing the brand, Ferrari must surely be one of the world’s leaders.
More than 200 000 people visited the Galleria Ferrari museum last year.
Here all things Ferrari are on view, from some of the very first ones built to its legendary single-seaters.
You can cast your eye over the F1 cars that won eight constructors’ championships and six drivers’ titles over the past decade, marvel at the GT cars or see the advancement in engine technology with 18 Formula 1 engines built between 1981 and the present.
I’ve been dragged to art exhibitions on occasion and normally feign interest for at least half an hour, but if all galleries were like this, I reckon arts would be very much more alive in this country.
And no matter how much of a petrolhead you are, an afternoon trip to Modena and a beer at one of the street cafés puts things a bit in perspective. Cathedrals erected many centuries ago, cobbled streets built during the time of the Romans and monuments to those killed during the World War II tell of stories long-since forgotten. Luciano Pavarotti was born here, as was the founder of Ferrari, Enzo Ferrari; both, I suppose, artists in their own right.
Unsurpassed service, tasteful food, lovely champagne, pyjamas to sleep in… If Maranello is Scuderia Ferrari’s cathedral, then first class on Etihad Airlines is the place where the Tifosi want to go when they die. - Saturday Star