My dream of a Maserati falls short

Meeting your idol is a treacherous business as my brother discovered when he saw French footballing icon Eric Cantona in a Manchester restaurant a few years ago.

What should have been a heart-warming tale of one man being greeted like an old friend by his hero was in reality a pathetic affair which resulted in my brother being warned by security that he should under no circumstances speak to Mr Cantona again. My brother's not been the same since and I took the experience as a dire warning of the consequences of trying to marry fact and fantasy. Predictably though, in the end, like most people when offered the chance to get close to the magic, I succumbed to temptation and agreed to test drive the Maserati Quattroporte S.

Now, I've dreamed of owning this car, of cruising along the South of France's Basse Corniche, a limber and exotic creature in the passenger seat next to me, cigar between my teeth, sucking the marrow out of life. Actually, no, I've not just dreamt of it – I have yearned to get behind the wheel of the Quattroporte, longed for it like some spotty, frightened youth in the vice-like grip of first love.
I believed if I could somehow get my hands on this car then all would be right in the world… for ever. I bet that, right this second, you're thinking disaster is lurking round the next bend. Well, you're not completely wrong.

The Quattroporte is a superb car, there is very little wrong with it. But it's just not quite there. Like Adam Sandlar starring in the Thomas Crown Affair instead of Pierce Brosnan. At first the movie seems like it's going well but by the end you are left thinking that it could have been so much better.

Having said this, the Quattroporte offers a heck of a lot, including an incredibly roomy cabin, with a proper back seat that easily accommodates anyone taller than six feet even with someone in the front passenger seat. Glorious hand-stitched leather, a fully equipped entertainment system, visually stunning sat-nav and all the mod cons expected from the marque are present. All this is wrapped in a body that screams sexiness, Gina Lollobrigida-on-wheels, designed by the master, Pininfarina.

Under the hood the Quatrroporte also delivers. The V8 engine purrs adoringly as you smoothly flit between its six gears using the paddles behind the steering wheel propelling the car down Al Khail Road like a speedboat on Lake Garda. It's quick, it's responsive, the brakes are near perfect, like much of the Quattroporte. In its sixth and highest gear the cabin is almost silent, the drive tranquil and smooth. In this mood the car backs up the reputation of the Maserati as a true driver's car. Oh, so very close to perfection. But not quite the dream, the fantasy.

And my hopes have been dashed by a great car that's not quite the best out there and nowhere near if you factor in that it carries a price tag of almost Dh600,000. While it seems to offer the best of both worlds – a sports car and an executive saloon, it just falls short in both categories. At first it seemed to handle both roles with the nonchalance of Thomas Crown, switching between pseudo-family motor, carrying four adults and handling the twists and turns of The Dubai Mall's labyrinthine car park comfortably and without much fuss.

However, I had to curb our shopping appetites as the boot is miniscule, unlikely to fit a golf bag, more likely to fit just a carry-on or briefcase. Lucky I wasn't in the market for furniture.

And Sheikh Zayed Road offered no test for the Quattroporte S, suggesting it could easily manage the daily commute to and from the office. Ride comfort was excellent, it handled speed bumps like a 4x4 despite its low profile.

Sitting in the back, stretching out, you feel as if the car was made for a chauffeur. You can electronically adjust the backseat, control the multi-media, air conditioning, even the front passenger seat position, all from the rear.

I could imagine cruising on my way to work, calmly reading the paper and listening to opera while my beleaguered driver battled through rush hour. I arrive relaxed and fresh to power-broke my way through the working day. Just like Thomas Crown except without the moonlighting as a thief of unparalleled creativity and daring.

But it really disappointed in its sport persona, so to speak. Firstly, from my Luddite perspective, there seemed little difference in the performance whether the sport mode was on or off. Secondly, while it cruised on the straights like a dream, especially at speed, there was a little too much body-roll for my liking on the roundabouts and turns of Al Khail.

Putting my foot down was fun but my head was not thrown back against the head-rest as I would have expected.

After a while the driving position also felt off as if I were pushed too far to into the left corner of the car and despite the panoramic windscreen my view of the road ahead was a little obscured by the width of the pillars. The finishing and buttons on and around the console and glove box also seemed a little rubbery after time even if the leather maintained its plush appeal.

Ultimately, I wish I had never agreed to spend time with the Quatrroporte. It is an amazing car, possessing timeless elegance despite the high maintenance image. However, there was something missing. Simply, it wasn't the one. As I dropped the car back at the dealer, I felt like saying that it was me and not it that was the problem, that someday soon it would find that perfect person because it deserved it. But I didn't.

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