Many enthusiasts roll their eyes at Ferrari’s relentless will to monetize its celebrity status—think cavallino-badged bathrobes and theme parks—but the company also knows how to deliver genuinely exciting experiences that will delight the most knowledgeable and experienced Ferraristi. Picture this:
You enter the famous Pista di Fiorano, Ferrari’s storied test track. Located less than a mile from the Maranello factory, this is where, since 1972, almost all of the brand’s road and racing cars have been developed. Today, though, the team testing the Le Mans-winning 499P will have to find another location, as the whole place has been reserved for you. And you’ll drive the track in nothing short of five museum-worthy (and, indeed, often exhibited at the nearby Museo Ferrari) examples of some of the company’s most-liked vintage models, which patiently await you in the morning light in front of the red-shuttered building from which Enzo Ferrari once observed track operations.
If this sounds like a dream, it’s in fact reality, right now. Provided, that is, you’re a) a Ferrari client, b) able to convince your dealer to extend an invitation, and c) willing to part with a not-insignificant sum to participate in the Corso Pilota Classiche program.
While the name suggests it’s an offshoot of the popular Corso Pilota driving schools run since 1993, Corso Pilota Classiche is better seen as an expansion in the activities of Ferrari Classiche. Opened in 2004, after then-managing director Jean Todt decided the factory should have a mechanism to officially confirm the originality of its vintage cars, the department today does far more than just issuing the well-known Ferrari Certificates of Authenticity, including servicing and full-on restorations.
During my visit to Classiche’s premises, which include a workshop and the company’s archives, I was shown parts of the 500 Mondial which was famously sold as a restorable wreck at RM Sotheby’s 2023 Monterey auction, along with a nearly finished 250 Testa Rossa equipped with the very engine which propelled Alfonso de Portago to his fatal crash in the 1957 Mille Miglia. It’s a place where you can hear some incredible stories, such as when the Classiche team helped two 275 GTB owners reunite their cars with their matching-numbers engines—which were swapped by the factory back in the ’60s to allow the car scheduled to be completed later to reach its impatient owner first.
The department’s offerings expanded once again in 2019 with the introduction of the Classiche Academy, rebranded three years later as Corso Pilota Classiche. As of 2024, it consists of two different programs. The one held during the winter offers a unique opportunity to put fine vintage Italian machinery through its paces on the frozen lake of St. Moritz, Switzerland. What I’m attending is the summer program, which can be best described as an intense two-day track course at Fiorano, with various activities aimed at developing different sets of skills, as well as experiencing different types of thrills.
It all starts with meeting the team of instructors (who are mostly former Ferrari racing drivers) and attending a somewhat advanced slideshow that delves deep into track-driving technique—everything from the basic concept of the racing line to heel-and-toe downshifting and using weight transfer to improve performance. This theoretical knowledge is then put into practice behind the wheels of a stable of classic Ferraris: a 308 GTS, a 308 GTBi, a Mondial QV, and a pair of flagship GTs with a quarter of a century between them, namely a Daytona and a 550 Maranello.
THE FIRST SESSION OF FREE LAPS in the 308 GTS makes for a fitting introduction to the course, and the magic of classic cars in general. That said, given my vivid memories of tackling the same circuit just a few months ago in the 1,030-hp SF90 XX Stradale, the base Ferrari sports car of the 1970s and early ’80s feels almost amusingly slow in contrast, its European-specification 255-hp 2.9-liter V8 emitting worrying pops and bangs at low revs—a typical trait of four Weber carburetors in this morning’s dense rain.
Such weather conditions are not something expected in Italy this time of year, nor are they welcomed by this more than 40-year-old Italian car. The windshield wipers soon lose their unequal fight against the rain, as does the door seal, leading to water dropping on my arm.
If I were to drive a 308 on a rainy day on a public road, my knowledge about the car would stop here, leaving me with a rather sour memory of the early V8 berlinetta. But on a great racetrack with an Italian instructor demonstrating high level of professionalism in both performance driving and social interaction sitting beside me, I can explore the 308’s potential to a depth I’d never reached before. This is a true sports car, with exotic chassis design and a race-bred engine, as well as so much grip that I can drive at ten-tenths (okay, eight-tenths in the rain) without worrying about causing any harm to me, my passenger, or the car.
In GTBi guise, in fact, the 308 proves to be so grippy on its period-correct Michelin TRX tires that the second exercise, drifting around a skidpad, proves very tricky. Even in standing water, the mid-engined 215-hp Ferrari isn’t willing to relinquish its rear axle, let alone maintain a proper powerslide. Still, it’s a joyful lesson learned, and I can’t think of many places where you’re actually asked to drift a vintage Ferrari.
In addition, getting behind the wheel of the GTBi immediately after climbing out of the GTB made for a fascinating comparison. Personally, I prefer the earlier carbureted car, which simply offers more charisma and vintage charm.
The valuable experience of learning the real-world differences between the seemingly similar models first-hand carries on after advancing to the Mondial QV, which turns out to be my unexpected hero of the trio. While still aesthetically the least-pleasing Ferrari ever made to my eyes, the Mondial’s driving talents win me over as the laps pass.
First, I welcome the airy cabin, a much more spacious and comfortable place to sit—not least because the engine is located further away from the driver, thanks to the tiny rear seats. The mid-engined 2+2 concept may have resulted in ungainly body proportions, but offers benefits both in everyday use on public roads and, to my surprise, on the racetrack, with proper body control and swift dynamics to match that romantic click-clack from the open-gate shifter. It’s another eye-opening experience, one which leads me to some casual browsing through the Mondial classified ads after I return home.
AFTER THE MONDIAL, it was time to drive the Daytona, a model I’m very familiar with. And if the previous cars had been presented with little fanfare, the people from Ferrari were very carefully looking after their early ’69 365 GTB/4 (s/n 12537). This machine, finished in a striking Azzurro La Plata hue, is owned by the company itself—as are all of the cars used at the event, which comes as a bit of a surprise given Ferrari’s tendency to empty its inventory of every single car it has produced over the decades. The Daytona’s carers also admirably mask their hesitation when tossing me the keys of this classic, only pointing out with nervous laughs that there are just two spare transmissions left in the factory.
It’s clear that taking a seat behind the car’s wheel is a privilege, so I treat the gearbox with care and patiently wait for all the fluids to warm up. As the laps go by and my speed climbs, the 55-year-old, 352-hp berlinetta gradually transforms from a sluggish classic from the olden days to a roaring sports car of the Golden Age. The speedometer needle becomes more focused after the typical initial phase of bouncing around, while the shift lever connected to the all-synchronized transmission becomes smoother in its movements.
It’s still very much an old-school experience, however, with no exterior side mirrors, comically reclined seats that are so short they end just below my shoulder blades, and brakes which mostly hint at retardation rather than actual stopping power. How anyone was willing to hit 174 mph in a Daytona and claim the “world’s fastest” title is beyond me; I feel brave breaking the 100-mph barrier on the front straight, which itself is an eye-opening experience.
Driving around Fiorano forces me to look at the Daytona from a new perspective, one without historic sentiment (even if designer Leonardo Fioravanti, the man behind other masterpieces like the Berlinetta Boxer, 288 GTO, and Testarossa, deems this it his all-time favorite). More than anything else, this is a performance car shaped—literally—by aerodynamic function and top-speed record ambitions.
The final car here, the 550 Maranello, is the Daytona’s direct descendant, with Ferrari returning to the front-engine V12 format after two decades of mid-engine flat-12s. It’s hard to believe that the same 28 years separate the 365 GTB/4’s debut from the launch of the 550 as separate the latter’s debut from today—because the 550 is an incomparably more modern machine than the Daytona, a Ferrari as we now understand it.
Or so I think before taking a second glance at the analog Jaeger gauges in the dashboard, the cassette deck, the open-gate shift lever, and the refreshingly button-free steering wheel. The drastically improved interior quality promised by then-new CEO Luca di Montezemolo had not yet materialized, nor, of course, had today’s supernatural driving experience, defined by electronic driver’s aids far more advanced than the 550’s ASR traction control.
This, then, really is a classic Ferrari, its timelessly elegant Pininfarina body dominated by the long, low-slung hood, under which resides a normally aspirated 5.5-liter V12. The short-lived Tipo F133 powered just a handful of models (from the 1992 456 in F116 B guise to the F133 H-equipped 612 Scaglietti, which production ended in 2011) and is mostly remembered for its torquey nature, well-suited to the GT cars it powered.
But this it seems is a stereotype shaped by the fact that few people ever had a chance to experience this V12 driven in anger on a track. (It fell to English company Prodrive to build a full-on 550 race car, which won the GTS class at Le Mans in 2003.) On Fiorano, the 550 feels completely at home, building the pace smoothly through the low revs and accelerating feverishly in the midrange before truly rocketing ahead at 5,500 rpm to its maximum output of 485 hp at 7,000 rpm—and there are still 500 revs to go before redline. The Maranello may be a classic, but above all it’s a true aristocrat.
Beyond driving, Corso Pilota Classiche participants have lunch at the recently opened track-side restaurant and, more significant, run a regularity rally on the track afterwards—which partly answers the question of who the event is truly aimed at. Ferrari maintains the margins it gets from the program are negligible, and I hear that, on most days, the participant list is filled with clients who use it as a tool to get some valuable time behind the wheel of a vintage Ferrari before diving into something more intense, like the packed grid of the Le Mans Classic or the chaotic stages of Mille Miglia rally.
Possibly more important than answering the specific needs of company’s top clients is the fact that many of them bring their spouses and/or children in order to share their passion. This, in turns, plays a crucial role in ensuring that Ferrari’s legacy will be carried on in the future by those with the knowledge and economic means to do so. And after spending an exciting day at Fiorano, it’s easy to see how life-long dreams could be created here.
