What it’s like to drive an $11.5m hypercar in the hills of Emilia-Romagna

The interior leatherwork is hand-pleated, the lever for the racing-style sequential gearbox has all its linkages exposed. An aeroplane-style counter logs the number of hours the engine has been running.

There are not many automotive bodies these days with exposed leather, but here you can see sections of the straps that hold down the huge hinged front and rear panels. Fortunately, there are also mechanical locks, just in case one of these panels wants to lift as you approach the electronically limited top speed of 350 km/h.

We didn’t get to anything like that speed but, through the hill country above the factory, the Codalunga proved to be beautifully balanced and race-car-precise. The 6-litre V12 fitted here – built by Mercedes division AMG to Pagani’s specifications – produces 618 kW and 1100 Nm and gives the impression of endless torque and acceleration. The Codalunga just belts along the road, taking off with eye-widening force from any speed, and hangs on beautifully.

It feels like a full-on race car with a body slung over it. Perhaps because it is.

The car’s overall weight is just 1280 kg, thanks to the carbon-fibre tub and body, and extensive use of titanium and aluminium. The springing is firm but not uncomfortable. This is tuned more to the grand tourer end of the Pagani spectrum; the company has also produced brutal track-only R variations of various models.

In the Codalunga you feel like you are sitting a long way forward (you are) and my glance into the central rear-view mirror revealed there wasn’t one. Makes sense, there’s no rear window. You have to rely on the two huge outboard mirrors, each in a frame that looks like an eye.

The steering is hydraulic for old-school feel, the automated gearbox is single-clutch for light weight and (someone admitted) maximum drama. Each gear change certainly slaps you in the back. You can effect these changes via a central gear-lever or the paddles behind the steering wheel. I found the latter easier, not least because I could keep two hands on the steering wheel – and there is a lot of wheel work in the Northern Italian hills.

There is the option of leaving the gearbox in auto mode, and there is a nose lifter for those difficult driveways, but don’t look for cruise control, blind spot warning, or automated lane keeping. This is meant to be a very mechanical, tactile, deliberate experience. The engine’s low-down growl is a delight, and the two enormous turbos really whistle at speed.

The clean lines are greatly aided by having no fixed wings, but there is active aero. One of the strange sights when driving enthusiastically, is to see either of the two mobile flaps between the headlights raise and lower to aid cornering.

Design team leader Lorenzo Kerkoc says the project started when two friends, both owners of multiple Paganis, approached the company with a wish for a car with the “kind of timeless and very elegant shape presented by cars such as Porsche’s 917 racer�.

“We started thinking about simplifying the shapes as much as possible in order to have a car that looked like it was sculptured by the wind.�

Kerkoc says the original plan was to modify the owners’ existing Huayras, but as the project progressed, it became obvious they needed to start from scratch. It also became obvious they needed to build five units to spread out the cost. Removing things such as ducts and wings is much more difficult than adding them, Kerkoc says, particularly when you still have to draw in a large amount of air for engine cooling and generate plenty of downforce.

Among the tricks used were air ducts under the car with special inlet geometries to stop road dirt and rubbish being drawn in. Compared with the Huayra, every aspect of the body has been simplified, from the headlights back.

Kerkoc says the commissioning customers were involved for the first sketch until the final phases of production, through drawings, renderings and the creation of eighth-scale then full-scale models. Each stage was “validated� by company founder Horacio Pagani.

The Codalunga’s monumental price is irrelevant in one sense: the five cars are gone and this prototype (chassis zero) will likely end up in Pagani’s museum. Indeed, all Pagani production is sold out until the end of 2027, according to the company. There’s a plan to lift production by a full 20 per cent over the next couple of years. That, however, will still mean just 60 cars per year.

It does, potentially, mean a few more Paganis for Australians, who currently buy about two a year.