“It’s a sound you’ll love to have in your ears, with a richer tone than the F8…”

The curves never end. Mile after mile of golden curves in third gear, diamond shards in the road glistening in the sun, dappled shadows darting by, surfaces scrubbed and polished, asphalt twisting forward, twisting back and forth, up and down, views bubbling in the margins. Numbing in its monotony, if you couldn’t appreciate its perfection.

I have to self-administer mental slaps to stop thinking I’m in a dream sequence with a choir of angels accompanying me. The car doesn’t help. The pace of this road is one that the Ferrari 296 GTB adapts to effortlessly. It compresses and then gushes out, a movement that is as natural to it as breathing is to us. In and out, in and out. Just doing what he does. Just moving forward.

It takes Mark and Charlie, in the rented chase car, 10 minutes to catch up. They are green, the Seat Arona’s brakes smoke. He hadn’t intentionally gone fast, but every now and then, as third turned into fourth and fifth, he was aware. Mental slap time.

Photography: Mark Riccioni

However, in those kilometers the genius of the 296 GTB is encapsulated. It is a tremendously complex car. It never feels like this when driving. Neither on the road nor on the track. But there is also another contradiction at the heart of Ferrari’s latest and (well, let’s share this now) greatest achievement*. As the occupants of the struggling Arona can attest, the 296 generates speed effortlessly. By no means alone in that, but today the engineering often required to give cars that amazing speed further distances the driver from the experience. Not here. Along with simplicity comes tactility. (*only technically speaking. In a back catalog that includes the 458 Speciale, F40, F50, 288 GTO and 812 Competizione, there is nothing definitive).

They are mutually compatible, of course, but strange bedfellows in an age when the mechanics of batteries and motors are easily understood, but the electronics that drive them are a complete mystery and the end result fails to connect on a human level. . Well, assuming you consider contentment to be more than just softness and silence. The 296 GTB is a hybrid, the most challenging construction of all: explosive gasoline in combination with pulsating electrons. The voluptuous power curve meets torque from a standstill. Incompatible at all levels.

Ferrari has also chosen to make a rod for its own back by removing the cylinders. It’s a revolution of sorts: Ferrari’s first production V6. Another asterisk: remember that Dino was a sub-brand. Look deep and you’ll see the famous crackled red covers, but pride of place in the engine bay is now taken by a curvaceous brushed metal heater plate. Below, nestled in the ‘hot V’ of the 120° open cylinder banks, are a pair of IHI turbos shared with the SF90. The turbines at both ends are slightly smaller, so they can spin faster (180,000 rpm), run more efficiently (by 24 percent) and respond faster.

Behind the engine, before reaching the eight-speed dual-clutch gearbox, is a disc the size of a frying pan. That’s the electric motor. Enormously dense in power, it produces 165 HP. Only one, where the SF90 has two extra, each responsible for a front wheel. The 296 is rear-wheel drive only. Which means that (I’m tempted to say entry level) the mid-engined Ferrari has 819 hp. Just eight years ago, the holy trinity of hybrid hypercars didn’t have much left.

And none of them dispersed it as flawlessly as this one. Especially not P1. A real wild ride, that. This morning, in the hills north of Seville, in those moments when I filled up on Winnie the Pooh and hungrily dipped my paw into the honey pot of power, what I got was honey.

And a sound that, if you wanted to take an already twisted analogy a step further, you could compare to the buzzing of bees. Relax, it’s better than that. Sound that you will love to have in your ears, with a higher and richer tone than the flat rumble of the F8 Tributo’s V8, more effervescent and energetic. Ferrari claims its engineers nicknamed it the piccolo V12 (little V12). It doesn’t have the baroque glory, the proud Roman pomp of an 812 in full majestic flow, but I can see where they’re coming from.

What it doesn’t feel (fortunately and surprisingly) is particularly turbocharged. The F8’s V8 does just that, presenting itself as a powerful generator of force, more impressive in the midrange than at the top end. This not. It rises at 8,500 rpm and gives you a reason to go there, as maximum torque only comes at 6,250 rpm. It doesn’t seem particularly electrified either. The turbos and electric motor are there to enhance the V6, not to be stars of the show in their own right. Of course, there’s a lot of low-end grunt with zero lag, but the way it comes together is great. You can fool yourself into thinking you’re driving a particularly healthy naturally aspirated engine.

Ferrari has done it before, with the LaFerrari, but only by ensuring that electricity was a symbolic gesture, an AAA thrown into the V12 bonfire. But here electricity can be allowed to play a more important role. On the lower left flank of the steering wheel boss are the haptic powertrain controls. Press eD and you have 15 miles of electronic range from the 7.4 kWh battery behind the seats. Okay, it’s more like 10, but the point is valid. In every village I come to, I go into stealth mode and walk through it silently. Supercars seek attention, they are heard before they are seen, but here is the extra dimension that electricity brings: silent progress and a more receptive audience. The residents of Berrocal probably heard me five minutes ago and many miles away because, wow, H9026 was a very edgy road.

We were in a hurry, because we were pressed for time on the track in Monteblanco and the further we traveled, the better the landscape became and, well, you know the result. So we took a shortcut through the center of town. It was beautiful: patterned cobblestone streets, houses with white shutters, the kind of place Mark and Charlie would normally stop at to capture the culture and people’s reactions to the car. Because they were practically in it with me. Berrocal was so tight and narrow that in the cafe at the edge of the town square someone had to move a chair to let us pass. It is a rural idyll of dogs, children, grandparents and Friday afternoon tranquility; I would have been mortified if the engine had been at full volume.

We passed with just a scratch on the front splitter that elicited a grin and a wave from the old man leaning on a stick as he watched us round a steep bend where the Arona had just tipped over on three wheels. I can’t believe this supercar is making its way around here so easily as a compact crossover. Parents let their kids chase us on our 5 mph course, because where’s the danger, the noise, the smell, and the emissions? It’s just a bright, spicy red parade float.

On the way out of town, Manettino has switched from Hybrid to Performance so the engine is always on, the 296 GTB is a show car again and I’m in the slingshot flow, dipping, spinning and shooting around every golden bend. . There’s an electronic differential, complex power management, evolved ABS with brake-by-wire and something called 6w-CDS, but for me? Just two pedals and a steering wheel. In addition to oars, because I prefer to do the marches myself. Get more powerband feel that way. Unlike the SF90, there’s a penalty for taking slow corners in high gears: Fourth place is fine, but there’s not enough oomph from the electric motor to make mincemeat of fifth. And this is good. It’s a supercar, you have to pay attention, work with the car.

This one really rewards you for doing it. The steering is super quick, but Ferrari is now above that, so trusting the front end comes naturally. It’s not very rich in road detail, but it’s hugely satisfying to turn: the weight, the resistance, the connection, it’s all magnificent. Body control on these smooth surfaces is impeccable, traction is effortless, everything works in balance and harmony. It never feels heavy or trapped, it simply takes you with you, wants to entertain and amuse. I try to look for faults, but all I can think of is that the brakes seem to release in tiny chunks, rather than in a smooth progression. I didn’t get along with the short travel pedal on the SF90. I do here. I like to brake with my left foot, but the offset pedals are configured to favor right foot use only.

God, I love this car. More than an F8 Tributo, more than its older brother SF90. With that, Ferrari made the technology usable, here it took it to the next step: it made it fun. But I struggle with the cabin. The touch screen control panel on the steering wheel requires concentration and effort, actions are unnatural, inputs are delayed. The cockpit design is okay, but it hasn’t advanced the game much. Materials and finish have never been a problem for Ferrari. Practicality yes. I still don’t know what you’re supposed to do with an SF90 given its shoebox cargo compartment. You won’t take it off for a weekend, that’s for sure. This trunk is generous and for that reason alone it is a much more usable car. There is a bit of wind noise, but you’ll put up with it because the eighth is long and the firm seats are well formed.

Monteblanco Circuit. The track cars are yellow and wear the thick stripes of the Assetto Fiorano group. It’s a £25,920 option that saves just 12kg and offers just 10kg more downforce at the front. You get a lightweight Lexan engine cover, but the main ‘benefits’, if you think they are, are the fixed-rate Multimatic dampers and Michelin Cup 2R tires (instead of PS4S).

He is a ripper on the track. I’m chasing another 296 sport fenders. The cars are generating so much force that they are separating the surface and sending dust and chips out the back. My windshield has a protective film.

I can’t avoid the brakes, not only so strong, but also so faithful: they don’t bother me at all here. The power is endless, the thing keeps pulling. The front end is powerful, never lacking grip or ideas. We start in Race mode, but it’s holding power at the start, so I switch to CT Off. Oh. My. God. Race was a protective mantle. Now things are really changing. The tail moves as it reaches corners, through them, and out the other side. The front part does not come off, the back part is everywhere. But with control, with security. The stability systems are still there, taking care of you. I was probably faster in Career mode, but this is hilarious. I ride around feeling like a hero in my protective electronic bubble: 6w-CDS, the car’s central dynamic brain, which directs the ABS individually to each wheel, predicts grip, monitors all movement on three axes, feeds it through a supercomputer and returns with organic answers. Complexity? I completed it, friend.

My internal computer stopped trying to understand and settled for the dopamine rush. The Copa 2R behave like wheels, dizzying speeds, I can’t help it. 296 urges me on, taunts me to keep up, and shouts encouragement. I had a great time in a car that glided silently through Berrocal being caressed by passersby.

I can find fault. Some. The leather is slippery and I wish the seats turned more underneath me. The infotainment is irritating, especially when CarPlay takes up the entire screen. Don’t criticize me for not testing hi-fi equipment.

The V6 is a thing of beauty, as is the car itself; the visor-shaped windshield, the buttresses, the side air vents inspired by the 250LM. This is not a revolution for Ferrari, the chassis is still aluminum, not carbon, but the integration of the systems is a new record. The 296 is surrounded by the most dizzying array of acronyms I have ever encountered. But no one does this better than Ferrari, and never better than this, a car that dances so exquisitely to your rhythm, makes you feel like a hero.

The F8 will remain on sale for one year; Ferrari claims that this is not a direct replacement. Yes of course. They may be £40,000 less, but who’s going to buy one now? Those with an electricity allergy (“Sorry, volts give me hives”)? You do not know what you’re missing. This is electricity used to add depth and dimension to the supercar experience, there when it is beneficial, stepping back and working in the shadows when it is not. Perfect.

This will leave McLaren with some sleepless nights, that’s for sure. Both firms will say the Artura (670bhp and £182,500) is not a direct rival, but they are simply dancing around each other. Right now no one makes a better mid-engine supercar than this one. And it’s a damn V6. For me it’s less of a radical change to lose a couple of cylinders than it is to add a couple of turbos. The purity of the product fundamentally changed when 458 became 488 in 2015. This, in a very modern way, is going back to that point.