"Zero to sixty in… does anyone care?” The words left my mouth without a first thought, let alone a second. I hadn’t intended to be so flippant and, yes, I’m acutely aware of the salivating hordes of petrolheads who obsess over every minute detail and specification.

But, in this case, it’s a luminescent green Huracán – the statement has already been made. Yes, the engineering is glorious; the specifications eye watering; and the heritage, magnificent but, as I began to discuss with my colleague – who is this a car actually for?

Imagine a simple Venn diagram. Two perfect circles akimbo, overlapping to form a slender marquise. One circle is labelled “I am incredibly wealthy”. It’s a surprisingly large circle, given the fast-growing global population of Ultra High Net Worth Individuals around the globe. The other simply says, “I really love fun”. This circle is vast – because who doesn’t love fun, right? In the middle, the ever-so-slender slice is labelled, “I own a Lamborghini Huracán”.

We can all picture that guy (or girl) and his (or her) ridiculous grin, beaming from behind the Lambo’s ergonomic steering wheel, emblazoned with its “raging bull” icon.  But this doesn’t answer my original question – because he doesn’t care about the numbers either.

The specs, as it so happens, are sublime. This green machine can make like a bullet at 202 mph and (drum roll) sprint from an afternoon nap to 60 mph in 2.9 seconds. That’ll be down to the 602bhp, 5.2 litre V10 within the car’s rear end. Move over Nicki Minaj. And Lambo buyers, like most Minaj fans (one would suppose), are a little more about the body.

The point is; people who buy Lamborghinis are a lot like Nicki Minaj. I’m kidding. That’s not actually the point. The point is that, despite what they taught you in your school assembly, it’s really not what’s inside that matters when you’re driving a Huracán. It’s about looking and feeling awesome. I could wax lyrical all day about this obscenely erogenous car, but chances are you looked at the pictures, a bit of dribble happened, and then you carried on with your day.

So if you’re still here, let me say it a different way: this is not a car for ‘car lovers’ per se. Just like a gourmand doesn’t eat gold-flaked truffles for breakfast and a fashionista doesn’t get stitched into her dress to go and collect groceries, a bona fide motoring fanatic doesn’t drive a Lambo every day. That’s because it’s special. It’s so impractical for every day use, it’s laughable, but it’s also so smile-inducing it'll make your face ache.

As an aside, it seems remarkable for a proud Italian marque to moniker its bestselling motor with a Spanish word. But when you learn that the Italian equivalent is “uragano”, it would have sounded more at home on a plate of pasta than a cobblestone piazza – although oregano is also something green that helps you feel virile.

This car belongs in the garage of a playboy. Kanye, Bieber and P Diddy all own Aventadors, 50 Cent has his Murcielago and even Hulk Hogan owns a Diablo but it’s too early to say how the Huracán will be embraced but the world’s elite-level machismos. Erstwhile Top Gear demigod Jeremy Clarkson famously sold his Gallardo because “idiots in Peugeots” kept trying to race him, so if you can handle that sort of attention, then go have some fun.

NUTS & BOLTS

Photography by Haitham El Shazly