When it was launched in 1999, the Ferrari 360 didn’t exactly receive the warmest of welcomes from the brands fan base. It’s predecessor, the 355, was a difficult act to follow and Maranello’s approach to their latest mid-engine V8 supercar had more than a hint of revolution about it. Gone were the boxier proportions and popup headlamps of previous cars, and in came a more curvaceous design with venturi tunnels and a powerful diffuser which prioritised downforce. This was Ferrari setting a new template for its supercars, and the changes weren’t just obvious to the naked eye. The new bodywork was made from aluminium as was the chassis, all of which brought improvements in weight and structural rigidity. However, Ferrari wasn’t interested in throwing the baby out with the bath water, and so their flat-plane crank V8 was carried over relatively unchanged from the 355. Capacity was increased from 3.5 to 3.6 litres – hence the name 360 – and some extra power was extracted. Like it’s predecessor, it too came with a choice of manual or F1 gearbox, with the latter recalibrated for smoother shifts. The 360 was better than the 355 in nearly every objective way, yet somehow, it failed to capture the hearts of the Tifosi.

One heart it did win over was mine, albeit a few years later. When I was 14, we used to take family trips to Bournemouth and not far from there was a Ferrari dealership in Lyndhurst, where I convinced my father to take me for a look around. After a couple of visits, he too was bitten by the Ferrari bug and ended up purchasing a 360 Spider. It was beautiful – finished in TDF Blue over tan leather with a manual gearbox – I instantly fell for it and for the first time in my life, I’d built an emotional connection with a car. I loved everything about it, from the way it looked, to how it sounded, to the ferocity of its acceleration. It was a 14 year old’s dream come true, and then after just three months, my father decided to sell it and break my heart. To my astoundment he didn’t like it all that much. He complained endlessly about how low it was, that it made too much noise and that it was difficult to move off in first gear. To this day I’ve never forgiven the old sod and have always wondered whether he was just being miserable or if his comments were valid.

Fortunately, our friends at the Car Crowd have recently taken one on to their investment platform and were happy to chuck me the keys for a trip down memory lane. This particular example which is finished in Rosso Corsa over Crema leather with challenge grilles and a manual gearbox, was offered to investors on a fractional share ownership basis and is fully funded, and for good reason. As discussed, the 360 may not have been well received on release, but it’s aged beautifully and is now starting to grab the interest of enthusiasts and collectors alike.

With the keys in hand and the sun shining, I hopped in the car, lost the roof and left the Car Crowd’s facility in search of country roads. It was now crunch-time. Had I been viewing the 360 through the rose-tinted glasses of a love drunk teenager, and was this going to be a perfect example of ‘don’t drive your heroes?’

Determined to debunk my father’s gripes with the car, I set about assessing the areas he moaned about most, starting with how low it is to the ground. Yes, like any supercar it sits low to the ground which means you to have to be mindful of sleeping policemen and large bumps in the road. However, after enough time behind the wheel, you learn to read the road and work around the problem, so no, not a valid reason to get rid of the car.

As for the ‘noise’ from that glorious V8, I was surprised to discover that it’s actually quite subdued when you’re not revving the crackers off it, so no, it wasn’t sufficiently loud to warrant parting company with the vehicle.

Finally, the area which received the most criticism, the gearbox. When my father bought his it only had 800 miles on the clock so it was unlikely to suffer from any clutch issues, which makes his gripe with the six speed manual rather puzzling. Coincidently, the 360 supplied to me by The Car Crowd had only covered around 16,000 miles and had been fitted with a new clutch some 1,000 miles prior, which made for an appropriate reference point. It was perhaps a little on the heavy side, but it wasn’t exactly a leg buster which means once again I found myself wondering what the hell the old man was complaining about.

Feeling myself becoming increasingly miffed over an event that happened 17 years previous, I decided to forget about it and enjoy the driving experience, because believe you me, there’s a lot to love.

The naturally aspirated motor is absolutely gorgeous and still packs a punch despite the 360’s considerable age. It puts out 400bhp at 8,500 rpm and 275lb ft. meaning it prances to 60mph in just 4.6 seconds and will top out somewhere north of 180mph. In 2023, that’s sports car performance and any modern supercar would leave it for dust, but the enjoyment comes not from the speed, but the response of the motor and the way it hunts down the rev limiter. Like all the best nat-asp engines, the speed and noise build as you work your way up the rev range, then culminates in a wonderful crescendo as the needle kisses the red line. The 360 sounds utterly exotic and possesses a character that modern Ferraris – though brilliant – seem to lack. If you’re in the market for a 360, then the engine alone is enough reason to go for the convertible instead of the coupe.

But it’s not just the motor that offers up excitement, but the package as a whole. The mid-engine chassis now feels its age and therefore the driving dynamics are, erm, lively. It may be made from lightweight materials, but it’s not the best balanced car and has a habit of pushing in to understeer, only to then oversteer if you try to adjust your line using the throttle. Twitchy is the word which springs to mind, but that doesn’t mean you can’t drive round the problem. Keeping your braking neat and tidy, balancing the throttle mid corner and bleeding it back on as you accelerate from the turn help the car settle. It requires some finessing, it forces you to consider your inputs, but once you have the dynamics figured out, the experience becomes deeply rewarding.

As if managing the waywardness wasn’t enough to keep me busy, I also had the open-gated manual to grapple with. I say grapple, but in truth it was anything other than a hardship because the six-speed gearbox is a real treasure and I dare say, just as special as the engine it’s mated to. There’s real pleasure in rowing it between the gates, to the point where you just change gear for the sheer hell of it so you can feel the rifle bolt action and hear it click-clack in to position. You can even see part of the mechanism which is enough to get this car enthusiast all hot under the collar. An F430 I recently drove had the F1 gearbox meaning I’ve used both transmissions and I can now say with absolute certainty that manual is the way to go in these older V8 Ferraris.

Because the 360 isn’t as large as modern supercars, it’s also easy to place on the road and with the roof down you benefit from fantastic all-around visibility. The steering is typical Ferrari – not much going on in the way of feel, particularly off-centre – but it makes the car feel light on its feet and only requires small inputs to get it turned. The suspension is also purposeful although never crashy, but that’s to be expected in a supercar from this era. Performance cars from the late nineties and early noughties are now starting to feel older, but driving the 360 allows you to understand the thinking that was happening inside Maranello at the time and how it’s influenced the bloodline. This is the beginning of modern day Ferrari and that makes the 360, frosty first impressions aside, one of the most significant models in its history.

The more I drove it, the more the memories came rushing back. It reminded me of the ballistic tunnel blasts, the sketchy overtaking manoeuvres, and the weekend drives out. I can recall the excitement of when the car was delivered, and I remember having something annoying stuck in my eye the day Dad told me he was selling it. The Ferrari 360 Spider is a special car to me personally because it brings back so many precious, teenage memories, some of which I’ll never forget. It was the first car I ever fell in love with, and after spending the day driving one, I now love it that little bit more. Grazie, Papa.