Cars to be thankful for | Ferrari Roma Spider

Declaring our gratitude for a Ferrari might appear an open goal. This is hardly a left-field choice that will send shudders of controversy through the internet. Yet if we’d picked any of the Roma Spider’s predecessors, I fear your commenting fingers would already be itching. Imagine a California or Portofino aloft on this plinth rather than the sveltely styled, fabric-roofed Roma. It just wouldn’t quite fit, would it?

Ferrari upped the cool factor significantly when the pretty Roma flipped its lid in 2023 and ended up no less attractive. Arguably more so, depending on the angle. While I think more cynical eyes may identify a bit of chub around its rear quarters – enough to ponder how much prettier it could be as a pure two-seater rather than a 2+2 – I also reckon there’s many an hour to be spent merely ogling the thing. Especially when it’s painted Celeste and trimmed in Cuoio Toscano.

Without skipping too far forward, this Roma is spectacular in the way modern Ferraris typically are – it just pulls a deft trick of looking cuddlier and classier in the process. The illusion is broken when its 3.9-litre twin-turbo V8 snarls angrily into life – no hybridisation to silence early morning starts – but the revs settle and if the Manettino switch is flicked to Comfort, you’ll slink away smoothly, the eight-speed DCT ‘box shuffling so quickly up its short-stacked ratios you’d swear there were dozens left to choose from. While it never shrugs off its mighty dimensions, those voluptuous front haunches help guide the way ahead.

This is unwaveringly a feel-good car. ‘Duh!’ you might fairly respond when it’s a £270,000 Ferrari under discussion – but the Roma achieves something many rival supercars struggle to: it warms your cockles comfortably below the national speed limit. It has vast reserves of power and performance, yet you feel sated by the appetiser rather than its main course portions.

Peak figures of 620hp and 561lb ft seem OTT for a classy cabriolet, as does a 3.4-second sprint to 62mph and an almost double-ton top speed. It all feels very turbocharged, too, despite Ferrari’s tangible efforts to deliver more linear delivery. You’ll still want to wring out every rev, but it’ll chuff, boost, and whistle its way there, every noise unfiltered when the five-layer roof is tucked behind you. You can hold higher gears to aid traction and lean into the bassier burble of an unstressed V8, rolling around on easily won torque. Or you can ramp everything up and fling it forward with the usual abandon. Indulge those whims, and it’ll proceed with hypercar pace. It’s a mite heavier than the more complex 296 GTS, yet it’ll still flick urgently into turns, feeling more squat on its haunches as you power out of them, buried satisfyingly into the road surface.

Power is sent purely through the rear axle with an adapted chassis structure to help it feel as solid as a Roma coupe. If there’s any inherent shakiness, I’ve not yet found it, and the ultimate rubber stamping of the engineers’ work (and the Spider’s insouciance to UK road surfaces) is that you may quickly feel compelled to click the Manettino up to Race – or hold it a second or two longer for ESC Off. 

Mind, even with the shackles in place, you can get a very visceral sense of the rear tyres smearing themselves on the tarmac beneath. In a straight line too, such is its sledgehammer of torque. But it all happens with fidelity and predictability, and this is a car that implores you to grab it by the scruff of its finely collared neck within minutes of clambering inside, however unruffled its first impression.

Its eager steering rack comes to life straight away and makes any initial manoeuvring seem a tad excitable, although the speed at which your muscle memory absorbs its urgent responses is spooky. Yes, the almost gamer-like wheel is a befuddling mix of buttons, switches, and touchpads, but I spent an entire hour touching nothing but the indicators and Manettino and swiftly stopped fretting. You’d have to make your peace with the controls if this is an ownership proposition. Those switching over from a Roma tin-top clearly already have.

The paddles perhaps aren’t as glamorous here as other quick Italian cars, most notably in their computer mouse click rather than full metallic CLACK. Nonetheless, this is a marvellous ‘box that you’ll relish operating thanks to a large portion of its ratios feeling fully exploitable on the road. In Race mode, upshift bangs punctuate the scenery around you, at odds with the Roma’s décor but entertaining nonetheless.

So it performs a hot rod tribute act in a straight line. Behaves like a sports car in corners. Acts the classy cabrio should you decide to dial things down. Its repertoire is vast with no elements feeling token or underdeveloped except, arguably, practicality; the comically small rear seats are more convincing as luggage space while boot space is narrowed to a slim aperture if you wish to stow the roof. But then you’d likely buy some pricey leather bags to squish neatly inside. Or a Purosangue.

Much like its burlier sibling, the Roma Spider can catch you by surprise in how naturally it invites you to leap in and start overdriving it. More to the point, the process never feels ragged thanks to the sensitive grasp of Ferrari’s famed suite of controls, its masterful Side Slip Control fitted here just like all the mid-engined exotica.

I didn’t fully fathom the Roma back at its 2020 launch, attending a group test where it felt frenzied amongst its Bentley, Aston and Porsche contemporaries. Still terrific, but an outlier in an esteemed GT parade. Revisiting it with its roof removed and a marginally softer setup, I’m close to besotted. With the fabric folded and the sun shining, it’s much harder to care whether it can casually conquer long distances like a Conti GT.  While I’m proudly no Luddite, its lack of electrification can’t help but contribute to its insatiable, irresistible and ultimately quite traditional character, too. Would you feel as compelled to shrug off its plush MO and head for curvier roads if its flat-plane V8 didn’t bark so loudly at the start of every journey? Mind, when a sharply suited 2+2 cabriolet delivers thrills like these – and the Maranello engineers are in symphony – anything seems possible.

Engine: 3,855cc V8, twin-turbo
Transmission: eight-speed twin-clutch automatic, rear-wheel drive
Power (hp): 620@5,750-7,500rpm
Torque (lb ft): 561@3,000-5,750rpm
0-62mph: 3.4sec
Top speed: 199mph
Weight: 1,556kg (dry)
MPG: 24.8
CO2: 258g/km
Price: £210,838 (£270,556 as tested)