A mistake turns out to be a stroke of luck. This rented Fiat Panda is a Group A special of such pared-back basicness that the only source of onboard navigation is my phone, balanced on the dashboard. After arriving in Italy, I ordered Google to take me to Pagani, but the algorithm set the destination to the company’s semisecret R&D base rather than the factory-museum. I get to the skunkworks just as the gates motor open so a prototype disguised in black-and-white wrap can pass, its sonorous departure confirming that future Paganis will sound as good as the current ones. And then, as the gates begin to close, a short figure with silver hair exits on a bicycle. It takes a moment for me to realize that this is Horacio Pagani himself, pedaling to the factory a half mile distant. It feels as special as catching a glimpse of Enzo in his raincoat.
Pagani the man is also Pagani the brand, with the values of both exemplified in the spectacular factory in San Cesario sul Panaro, near Modena. This is just 10 miles from Lamborghini’s base in Sant’Agata Bolognese and barely farther from Ferrari’s home in Maranello. You need a huge amount of talent and self-confidence to hang a shingle as a supercar maker in Italy’s Motor Valley. But you also need an appropriate name, something that won’t sound out of place when applied to a seven-figure exotic. So we’re lucky that Horacio Pagani kept the one his grandfather bore when he emigrated from Italy to Argentina in the late 19th century. What if his family had married into the earlier wave of Welsh settlers? It’s hard to imagine a Huayra with “Rhys Jones” etched on the badge.
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