Getting to grips with the beast: Lamborghini's V12 Aventador

It was preceded, appropriately, with a double espresso shot. Not a nod to Italian coffee culture, but a caffeine jolt to gear up for a spin in the 6.5-litre, 12-cylinder fighting bull called the Lamborghini Aventador LP 700-4. Decoded, that's a longitudinally positioned mid-engine with an output of 700 horsepower. And it's a four-wheel drive.

Among its V12 rivals, there's the sophisticated charm of the Aston Martin V12 Vantage and the elegant Ferrari F12. You could liken the Aventador to the thug at the bar who accuses you of staring at him in order to pick a fight. It's an aggressive-looking brute that almost shouts "drive me if you dare".

The exterior of this road-hugging aluminium wedge is a geometric masterpiece in sharp lines and interlocking angles. It's how a hi-tech god might conjure up the ultimate predator for life on a futuristic planet. The pointy bonnet appears designed as if to spear a luckless jaywalker. But it's not simply style over substance. Lamborghini says the design of its flagship model takes inspiration from the modern aeronautics industry. The Aventador, too, is made to fly through the air.

The panel running along the rear end, for example, is a deployable spoiler to increase downforce at high speeds. Another panel hides the fuel cap. Its cavernous front air dams are electronically programmed to open and close in response to the external temperature and cooling needs of the engine.

Lamborghini has also made light work of the Aventador, which tips the scales at just 1,575kg. The roof and cockpit are a rigid carbon-fibre monocoque that weighs a mere 147.5kg. In terms of its weight-to-power ratio, each of those 700 horses is pulling just 2.25kg.

It took Lamborghini two years to hand over the key to local media after the Aventador was unveiled here. But it is a precious commodity, destined to become a collectors' item. The company has said it will only make 4,000 units. And it was worth the wait. Flipping up the scissor door, and contorting Houdini-like into the low-slung bucket seat (the Aventador stands at just 1.4 metres), I see an equally stunning control console. It's like sitting in a fighter jet, or how you might imagine it. There's a row of toggle switches, encased in a shiny metal panel, with other switches on either side of a revolving controller hooked up to the multimedia and navigation screen. There's little time to memorise all of them ahead of a 90-minute test-drive, while simultaneously admiring the rest of the leather-coated cabin.