Group test: Lambo vs Porsche vs Maser

5.40am. Gulf News office. There's an eerie quiet at this time of the morning. Most of the late-night revellers have gone home already, and the early starters are still catching a few precious minutes of beauty sleep before heading off to work/gym/school/whatever to begin another day. Us? We're gulping down double espressos from the Gulf News coffee machine to inject a little circulation into our still sleep-befuddled brains in order to stay sharp enough for the task ahead.

The agenda? Drive the Lamborghini Gallardo Spyder Performante, Porsche Cayman R and Maserati Gran Turismo MC Stradale — three of the most seductive sportsters around — on the streets and the twistiest mountain roads we can find, to judge whether the diet and performance regimes have been worthwhile. And the time? Blame Kishore for that. Apparently, "the light is better earlier" and we're still an hour and a half from location. Time to slip away quietly, in search of light and enlightenment.

‘Quietly' is a bit academic here, whenour tasty trio can lay down a total of1,350 horsepower between them. Never mind the four horsemen of the apocalypse — these three thoroughbreds can muster enough for the entire charge of the Light Brigade. Mercifully, each has some form of exhaust-management valve in the plumbing, designed to protect neighbourly relations in the small hours we're currently disturbing. Out on the open road it's a whole different story, each magnificent engine given full voice to howl at the moon, and what a glorious chorus ensues. Subtle, our convoy is not.

7.10am: Lost in Sharjah. Don't ask!

8.00am: Friday market, en route to Masafi. Time for some cover shots,a lot of hopping in and out of cars and an opportunity to compare notes. What's becoming clear already, even before we do any serious driving, is that each car has its own particular character, and that a superficially similar approach to development has created three radically different driving experiences. Are we in for a Goldilocks moment?

Jonathan's Lamborghini — 570 bhp, 383.8bhp/tonne, 0-100kph 3.9 secs

First, the bald facts. Lamborghini shaved 65kg from the dry weight of the regular Spyder, taking it down to a still fairly substantial 1,485kg, and also tweaked the engine slightly to produce another 10bhp. The weight saving comes from even more extensive use of carbon fibre — almost the entire interior of the car is now shiny black, including the door cards, transmission tunnel, and the handbrake lever. Externally, the wing mirrors are now housed in the stuff, the flat underbodyand rear diffuser likewise, and there'sa new fixed rear wing as well, which does away with the weight of the electric lifting system. You never forget it's there as it slices your view in the rear-view mirror neatly in half.

So far so good — the Spyder Performante is just a slightly buffed and pumped version of the regular Spyder LP 560-4I drove last year, surely? Don't be fooled. This is one hard-core, old-fashioned bad boy Lambo, with all the truculence and attitude of a hormonal teenager, anda hair-trigger temperament to go with it.

In town early on, there wasn't much traffic to contend with (surprise, surprise), so the Performante wasn't too much ofa handful. OK, it still prowled the streets like a leopard on a leash, but it behaved, sort of. Out on the faster highways, much the same story; it thumped around between gears, nodding your head with each shift and changing down at the last moment with a muttering grumble.

The seats are carbon-fibre racing clamshells, and whilst they hold you very firmly in place, you sit the way they want, and not the other way round. Once in they are at least supportive and grippy.

As the kilometres build, so does the confidence. Though lowered by 20mm, the ride is actually surprisingly good, compliant over larger undulations and not unduly upset by sharper ridges and bumps. Once you get into the groove this becomes a taut, responsive and precise fast cruiser, and you can pick off slower moving vehicles at the speed of thought.

But time for some real driving. Select Sport mode and the sheer violence of the performance takes your breath away. Nail the throttle and every upshift will slam your head back against the headrest with a real crack; stomp on the brakes and you'll be hanging off the straps of the seatbelt. And I haven't even dared to put it in Corsa (race) yet. What on earth is that going to be like? In reality, mostly unusable on public roads. It is just too committed, too hard, too fast to enjoy fully. You really do need to be on a track. There, it would be an exhilarating, indescribable adrenaline rush. Here, it is just too much information. Sport, though unforgiving, is ultimately hugely rewarding for the skilled and committed driver. This is life on the edge, demanding absolute concentration, hyperspeed reactions and the ability to see through mountains. This is a carI could gladly drive all day, and emerge at the end of it the same dripping, grinning wreck as when I step out of a fast car after several hot laps of Yas Marina.

Sadly, reality beckons. Even in normal mode, the Performante is a handful in traffic. Crawling back through the endless grind of the Sharjah's National Paints ‘Car Park' takes as much concentration as acing the perfect mountain bend, but for the opposite reasons. Here, the gearbox gets all baulky and hot, sulking about changes. The carbon-ceramic brakes, so powerful and fade-free on the open road, become difficult to modulate — I'm in constant danger of running into the back of the car in front because I don't stop fast enough, or being hit from behind because I stop too fast. Gentle modulation seems almost impossible to achieve.

The steering, so positive and accurate earlier, here becomes stiff and wooden, reluctant to move off line. The suspension seems determined to let you read the name of the guy who painted every line on the road. Back to hormonal teenager again.

The real surprise with the Performante is not how small the increments are from the superficially similar standard Spyder, but how massive the differences. The Performante is completely barking mad, expensive and seriously hard work. Everything a real Lamborghini should be, in fact. I loved it.

Imran's Maserati — 450bhp, 250.85bhp/tonne, 0-100kph 4.6 secs

With your eyes tightly shut and your fingers in your ears, you still can't fail to notice any of these cars. For starters, one is painted the loudest shade of green imaginable, and the other is just, well, extremely loud. But, ‘my' Maserati Gran Turismo MC Stradale has a four point safety harness instead of your regular seat belts. That should tell you everything you need to know about it. It means business. Without these padded straps locking you into the carbon-fibre, leather and Alcantara upholstered seats, and with it set to Race mode, you'd basically be inviting trouble with open arms. That is part of the charm of this Maser. I first thought the harness was there just to add a bit of visual drama. But, trust me, you need it. Especially when you throw this car into corners at speeds that wouldn't only jeopardise your licence, but your life. Once you're strapped in, you can't move.

Long before you've clambered into the racy cockpit, you'll be blown away by the marvellous exterior. It manages to be aggressive, sporty and classy in one fell swoop. Unlike full-blown racecars with their spiky aero bits and bobs that would snap off if you sneezed near them, the scoops and spoilers on the Stradale are built to last. The two hot air outlets on the bonnet and the re-profiled rear bumper with the slightly more centralised exhausts tips are a treat. Gorgeous 20in flow-formed alloys round it off nicely.

It takes a while to get comfortable in those seats. I guess they weren't designed fora muscular (flabby) figure like mine. Still, I squeeze in and spark the 4.7-litre V8 mated to a six-speed robotised manual, into life with a push of a button and am greeted with a raw, guttural exhaust note. It sends vibrations shuddering throughout the car and my body. With 450bhp and 510Nm of torque at the ready, I cling to the thick steering for dear life. A dab of throttle and the Maser immediately tries to murder me by taking off with neck-snapping force. Foolishly, I switch it from Auto to Sport. Everything tightens up — the steering, suspension and my chest.

I think I'm having a cardiac arrest from all the excitement. My brain isn't thinking straight so it's not a surprise that it begins to wonder how the Stradale would behave after hitting the Race button. Like a race car, is the simple answer. It sounds like Thor is sitting in the engine bay, bellowing instructions to the pistons and cams and other oily bits to work that bit harderand produce the goods. It's thanks toa lighter muffler that helps create a more intense sound, not to mention the bypass flap which remains open in this wildest of modes (it opens up at 4,000rpm in Sport). My advice is to forget about the other two. You'll only ever want to drive this in Race. But, you have to be up to the task. It demands every last ounce of your attention and when you give it this respect, it becomes totally engaging to drive.

There's plenty of feedback from the crisp steering while the Brembo carbon-ceramic brakes are as good as you can get. Good job too, because this thing is fast. It bangs home the cogs in 60 milliseconds with such violence that by the time you fall out of the Stradale, you feel as if you've been roundhouse kicked in the stomach by Norris, Seagal and Van Damme all at once. But, you'll be smiling because you've lived to tell the tale — even though you'll havea shattered spine. Yes, the ride is that firm.

The suspension and chassis have been designed to clock serious times at the track. It's set up like a racing car but you could theoretically use this as your daily driver. Perhaps not for the school run since it's got a roll cage where the rear seats used to be.

The boffins in Modena stiffened up the front and rear springs by 8 per cent, added thicker anti-roll bars and used a damping system with performance tuning to get you some proper hot laps. The Trofeo Gran Turismo MC, take a bow, for the Stradale was inspired by you.

With a dry weight of 1,670kg, it's 110kg lighter than the Gran Turismo S andyou can tell. Want a light-weight, blisteringly quick supercar? You want an MC Stradale. It's dripping with style, presence and performance.

Sony's Porsche — 330bhp, 250bhp/tonne, 0-100kph 4.7 secs

Drama is something Porsches aren't good at. So it wasn't a surprise that the Cayman R looked a bit too docile beside the live-wire Lambo and the strident Maser. But the stripes and the letter R on the flanks as well as the fixed rear wing that harks back to the Sixties 911 Rs, give enough hints that this little Porka isn't going to give up without a fight.

It also helps that both of the other carsare white while my Porsche prefersbright green.

Obviously, there's a lot more to the Cayman R than just stripes anda Peridot Metallic paint job. It's got10bhp more than the S, and is 55kg lighter. At 1,320kg it's the lightest car here. This was achieved mainly with the help of new aluminium doors which shave 15kg, bucket seats that are close to 12kg lighter and the 19in lightweight alloys borrowed from the Boxster Spyder that shed another 5kg. Although it might seem ridiculous, Porsche has even replaced the conventional door handles inside with nylon straps.

It's a stripped-out car alright, but Porsche has managed to keep the interior space more liveable than what you get in the other two. The Alcantara seats are firm but they hug you perfectly and the cabin is impeccably built as you'd expect in a Porsche, with a fair bit of R signage scattered around.

The 3.4-litre flat-six engine fires up with a crisp rumble through the twin sports exhausts. But it pales in comparison with the guttural roar emanating from the Maser's and the Lambo's tailpipes.

Slam the right pedal and you'll fly past the 100kph in as little as 4.7 seconds. Butit actually feels quicker.

While the Stradale is just loud and the Lambo single-mindedly focused on being boisterous, the Cayman is an all-rounder. Its telepathic steering and throttle response beggar belief. You're instantly in sync with the car and this harmony between man and machine is what sets it apart from its competition.

With weight evenly transferred between the front and rear thanks to the mid-engine layout and lift reduced by 15 per cent and 40 per cent respectively on the front and rear axles, the Cayman R feels infinitely sharper than the other two. While traction is more than impressive thanks to the lightweight spring-strut suspension with anti-roll bars and mechanically locking rear differential,the stability-control system can beturned off, enabling you to test the car's limits and have some real fun on vacant winding roads.

What's more, when driven back-to-back with the Maser and the Lambo, the Cayman R rides surprisingly well. So even while being a true track-day special like the other two, the Porsche is a car that is a lot easier to live with every day. You could take the car on a long trip — I drove it from Dibba to Dubai, pottering through peak Sharjah traffic on the way — but got back as fresh as if I'd be in an executive saloon. A great mountain-carver, a decent highway cruiser, and an easy car to handle in city traffic, the Cayman R is a near-perfect road racer.

Verdict

Three cars, one formula. Which answer makes the most sense? Oddly, the Cayman R seems almost too civilised. Sure, there are the comic-book doorpulls to remind you you're in a stripped-out special, but everything works well, it's comfortable and doesn't bite.

The Maserati manages to hit a sweet spot between Gran Turismo and Trofeo Cup. Ditching the back seats makes sense, though it wastes a lot of space. They've shaved 110kg off the regular car, but it is still too heavy.

The Lamborghini? Well, you can't make a logical case for it. You can have three Caymans for one Spyder. But that's completely irrelevant. Price is not an issue when you simply must have a Lambo.

Whether any of these cars are worth the premium over the models from which they're derived is a moot point. On paper, the numbers don't really add up for any of them. Then you hit the open road, that clear-sighted succession of bends, caress the throttle and celebrate once again the fact that you were never really any good at maths in school.