The start of November is such a predictable time of the year. In just a matter of days the relative warmth of an October Indian summer has faded into single figures, the daylight hours are decreasing and that all too familiar chill is in the air. It's blustery, raining and rather depressing, actually. It's time to admit defeat and dig out your wintery coat.
Or you could take your convertible out, drop its roof and draw in innumerable perplexed glances from people who are clearly questioning your mental state. For every 50 people who look in disbelief, there'll always be a few whose day you make for sticking two fingers up to the constraints of the British weather.
It really annoys me. It shouldn't, but it just does: the amount of times I voice my disgust at convertible owners who fail to take advantage of dry weather is a long-running topic on my travels. I'm a firm believer that your roof should be down if the temperature is above freezing and the skies are clear. Why not? What's the point in having a convertible if its roof is only down when it's 20C? Too cold? Get the heaters on and wear a pair of gloves, or even turn on your 'air scarf' if your car's a posh one. There really is no excuse, but this morning has had a biting 30mph wind with an Arctic-like chill factor, so perhaps I might be wrong...
However, fun is just a few seconds away because I'm sat in a bright red, decade-old Ferrari 458 Spider. Thumb the starter motor and the 4.5-litre V8 erupts into a raucous noise, shattering the quiet morning's serenity into smithereens.
Decapitating a car can have a detrimental effect on the way it drives. Its rigidity is compromised - drive a soft-top RS4 from yesteryear and you'll instantly feel its jelly-like wobble - and so they're never really thought of as a focused, out and out drivers’ car. 'Scuttle shake' is a big thing: find an imperfection in the road surface and the resulting tremor leaves a lasting impression as the car turns into a dishevelled mess. It's not a nice thing to witness and it's an all too familiar trait on convertibles. As you'd expect with Ferrari, they've subtly changed a few details to eradicate any negative convertible effects. There are slightly softer damper rates, although the spring and anti-roll bar settings are both unchanged, a so-called 'gentler' throttle map and a little change to the 458's exhaust and induction noise for maximum aural indulgence.
Motoring journalists' ignorance still annoys me, though. Convertibles are bought for completely different reasons and so people who bemoan their inevitably less taut set up can take their hard-riding coupes and bugger off to the Nurburgring and go round a few tenths faster. Lopping the roof off does have its plus points - especially if there's a V8 several inches behind.
There's just one mild tinge of disappointment, for Ferrari has had to lose the 458's glass engine cover in the roof's redesign. Such a simple thing as it was, that thin pane of glass showed off its 562bhp trophy cabinet and has always been a prominent feature in mid-engined Ferraris since the 360 Modena. Instead, there's a 355-style vented cover, but despite this less showy addition the Spider - I think - is even better looking than the hard-top. The twin buttresses deliciously protrude upwards from the rear and meet at a flattened point above the seats' head restraints. They look fantastic and give a little nod to the gorgeous 575 SuperAmerica, the roof being very similar to the sure-fire V12 classic. A simple design, it folds in two sections and goes into its neat cubbyhole in just 14 seconds. All this fiddling usually results in masses of additional weight, but the Spider is only 50kg heavier than the coupe, meaning its acceleration stats are equally impressive - 0-62mph taking just 3.4 seconds, only a tenth slower than before.
Within a few hundred yards Ferrari's considerable expertise has already shown itself. The car's damping is beautifully judged, being supple when you want it over harder ground and demonstrates its no-nonsense stiffer edge through faster turns. It remains completely controlled no matter which surface it's faced with. The 458 Spider is a masterclass on how to make a convertible react like a properly sorted hard-top. It's never flustered, scuttle shake is virtually non-existent and the differences between the two 458 variants is infinitesimal. I've barely got past 60mph but the Spider's already dazzling thanks to its ride and assured body control.
I've grown up adoring mid-engined, V8-powered Ferraris and now, following the turbocharged 488 and F8, they just seem more special because of their shackle-free, high-revving motors. Ever since I first saw the 360 on the road as an 11-year-old lad I've been enchanted by that instantly recognisable noise and gorgeous looks. My love grew stronger with drives in the timeless 355 and 360 Challenge Stradale, but the 458 - despite its stunning beauty - never really drew me in until the Speciale arrived. It seemed overly complicated with its fussy, multi-function steering wheel and despite its undeniable pace, I thought it could do with reverting back to its analogue routes. A key part in this is its paddle-only gearbox; there's no option of a manual. No matter how great Ferrari's F1-style 'boxes are with their incredible shift times, how nice would it be to see an open-gated manual in between the 458's seats? It's a sign of the times and now, sadly, a thing of the past, but it doesn't mean we can't still crave it.
In the Spider you're alive, buzzing with adrenaline and completely in awe of just how capable the car is. It's a heady 7C but the heaters are ramped up to their warmest setting and they're doing their best to keep a modicum of warmth in the cockpit. Ah, the cockpit. What a work of art it is. Your eyes trip up over themselves as they can't take in the intricate details fast enough: flashes of bare carbon, the driver-focused instruments and the bright yellow rev counter all vie for your attention.
It can't be just me who craves 'involvement' in a car, right? I want to be a part of it all, like I am in a 992 GT3. I want to experience the weight of the clutch, feel the suede-covered gear knob and select my gears that way. Why is it then that every single time I'm in a supercar I'm completely bowled over by just how great they are? Yet, the 458 is easier than a Micra to drive. You're low and the visibility isn't great but the gearbox shuffles through its speeds in auto mode with no jerks and I'm kind of wanting it to trip up on something. Just show me a fault, 458! A mid-engined Ferrari should be huffing and puffing while sat in traffic and my eyes should be darty and have a worried look. I should be constantly checking its temperature gauge but the 458 just sits there - no problems, no drama, no worries. It's annoyingly good.
It's all too easy to fall for a bright red Ferrari and be blinkered by the occasion but there's a thing I absolutely despise about the 458: its steering wheel. Why do manufacturers insist on multi-function wheels? I hate them - what was ever wrong with a simple indicator stalk? They don't look offending to the style conscious and serve their purpose. Place your hands on its wheel and you'll constantly be one of those idiots who drives along with their indicator on, oblivious to the anguish they're bestowing on other drivers. You do it without even knowing in the 458. Don't get me wrong, it's a lovely thing to look at but it's far too cluttered. You've got the aforementioned indicators, the engine start button, the 'Manettino' five-way traction toggle, the lights, windscreen wipers and suspension settings. It's too much. F1-inspired it may be but they can keep it for all I care. A plain wheel would be far better to use.
Once you've stopped telling other road users you're not actually turning left but staying on the straight road, you can start to tap into the 458 Spider's substantial magic. The steering itself is a little too light at normal speeds and the speed at which it changes direction is quite hard to get your head around, with minimal input being required to turn. It's hilariously accurate and what feels strange and disconcertingly abnormal at first soon becomes second nature.
The engine's a peach: hungry for revs, powerful and absolutely heavenly to listen to. A short blast through third is all that's needed to forget about the steering wheel. It lacks that mid-range turbocharged grunt of a McLaren 12C, but the 458's frenzied top end certainly makes up for that. It revs all the way to 9,000rpm - imagine what that sounds like. Enzo Ferrari himself once said that you bought his engine and the rest of the car was free, but I can't help thinking that Signor Ferrari would be either having a right old laugh or turning in his grave at the extortionate optional extra prices on this 2013 car. I do hope you're sat down for the figures I'm about to reel off…
Alcantara, the suede-like material that's soft to the touch and present in most premium cars, can be added to the boot carpet in the 458… for £1,550. It too can be added to the carpets inside the cockpit, the headlining above and the armrest, but this would set you back a further £2,550. So a few swift ticks for some fancy Alcantara brings up a £4,100 bill.
Of course, it doesn't stop there. Carbon fibre is the devil of the options list and although it's very pretty to look at with its flawless, adjoining weave, it's ludicrously expensive. If you'd have liked your 458's engine bay dressed in the material, that’d have been £4,651. The front wings, sills, and diffuser can also be fashioned out of it, for £22,545. Racing seats are a couple of quid short of £5,000, diamond cut wheels are over £4,500 and even the Scuderia Ferrari shields for the sides of the car are £1,013. All this is on top of the Spider's £198,000 list price. Factor in this particular car's options and it was worth just shy of £240,000 when new.
Those carbon ceramics remain pretty good, though, even 11 years on. Ferrari have always had a knack of getting their brakes just right, with perfect pedal feel with instant, reassuring resistance. On the road they're flawless.
The steering - which was overly light at first - soon weights up in your hands and feels great. Although the steering wheel's accessories still annoy, that pinpoint accuracy never fails to wow with its shocking precision and immediate reactions. It's not a big car, the 458, so despite its gargantuan price tag it never feels like a leviathan on the road. With that small size comes agility, and combine that with 562bhp, flawless brakes and a near-as-dammit perfect driving position and the Ferrari feels monumental on any road.
Trundle along, sixth gear, 40mph - it's happy to do it and it's a breeze for it. There's a muscular tone from the exhaust as you move with traffic and then, just as an opening appears, my left index finger pulls four times on the left paddle and there's an almighty blare as the revs flare to 6,000rpm, we're now perfectly placed in its powerband and a series of red shift lights have appeared at the top of the steering wheel. Bury its long-travel throttle pedal into its sumptuous carpet and the leathery air is turned blue as a list of expletives are reeled off. Third hits home instantly with a pull of the right paddle with no let up in momentum and the hard-charging Spider's orchestral V8 slingshots the car towards the horizon in irreverent fashion. The howling wind does its best to drown out that fabulous engine but it's absolutely no match for a 458 approaching 9,000rpm.
The speed is shocking, it really is. Having had a few hot hatches on test recently, you get in a 458 and it really does shock you just how ferocious a supercar's acceleration is in comparison - even though today’s crop are way quicker. It's completely addictive, but at the same time very daunting. Witnessing its savagery when behind the wheel could never become tiresome; it's preposterously fast.
The roads are greasy and the Manettino is in - you guessed it - its 'wet' setting. You'd think it'd be easy for 562bhp and rear-wheel drive to be a handful in these conditions but the enormous rear tyres aren't ever flustered. It stays true to your line through a corner and you can fully commit, the steering's super-quick rack feeling perfect in your hands. You can feel the electronic wizardry working to keep you on your path if you push it and it shows itself with an artificial feel as it slightly interrupts where the car wants to naturally go.
It's all the more intense because of the convertible element, too. There's a larger sense of occasion and the theatricality of the whole experience just warms you up from the biting cold which is now chapping my knuckles. To bemoan its ever so slightly softer set up would be incredibly pedantic as it's indecipherable when you're behind the wheel. The fact of the matter is that the Spider is even better than the coupe simply because it is a convertible. It's irrelevant that it loses a tenth to 60mph and a few numbers off its top speed, as what replaces that is an open-topped freneticism that Ferrari is so damn good at.
The unrelenting noise of that fabulous V8, the prepossessing looks and the feel it gives you is unequalled. Despite drastically changing from its simplistic routes, the enchanting 458 Spider is an absolute masterpiece and without question a true modern classic.
