Ferrari 812 vs Volkswagen Caddy

What's the difference?

Clearly, this is not a car for everyone, and you’d have to question whether it’s a car for anyone, really, but people who like spending $610,000 on Ferraris, and waiting in a queue to do so, will be delighted, because it delivers the kind of exclusivity, and bragging rights, that you’d have to hope a car called Superfast would.

Personally, it’s a little too much, a little too over the top and definitely too mad, but if rockets are your thing, you won’t be disappointed.

It’s not hard to see why the Caddy Cargo maintains its enduring favouritism in the small van class. It has outstanding workhorse capabilities, unmatched five-star safety and drivetrain choice, combined with a spirited car-like driving experience, be it unladen or with a heavy payload. It’s not perfect, but it's also hard to fault in a workhorse role.

It’s very… big, isn’t it? And it looks even bigger in the flesh with a bonnet you could use to put a roof over your tennis court. In all, the Superfast is 4.6m long, almost 2.0m wide and weighs 1.5 tonnes, so it certainly has presence.

Making something this big look good is a challenge even for those as talented as Ferrari’s design team, but they have nailed it. The front has what appears to be a mouth, poised to swallow lesser cars whole like some whale shark Terminator. 

The bonnet appears to be flaring its nostrils, and looks fabulous from the driver’s seat, and the swooping side and taut rear complete things nicely.

Personally, it still just looks too big to be a Ferrari, but then this is not a mid-engined super car, it’s a grand touring rocket ship, and the ultimate expression of unnecessary excess, and it pulls off that aura perfectly.

Our test vehicle rides on a 2755mm wheelbase with 4500mm overall length, yet its 11.4-metre turning circle is slightly larger than a Toyota HiAce mid-sized van, which highlights the restrictions in steering lock shared by front-wheel-drive vehicles like the Caddy and its French rivals.

Underneath you’ll find robust MacPherson strut front suspension, a coil-spring beam rear axle with Panhard rod, four-wheel disc brakes and electric power-assisted steering.

It comes well armoured for work duties with unpainted dark grey plastic used in areas where bumps, scrapes and wear usually occur like the front/rear bumpers (including the rear pillars from top to bottom), door-handles and door mirror-shells. The bright silver alloy-look plastic wheel-covers can also be easily replaced if damaged by kerbs to keep this van looking sharp on the job.

Its purposeful external appearance is matched by a neat and practical cabin design with wipe-clean rubber flooring and fabric-trimmed bucket seats for driver and passenger. Hard surfaces abound in contrasting shades of grey with splashes of satin chrome.

The minimalist dash design is achieved by corralling most functions into the comparatively small (by today's standards) central touchscreen including often-used climate control, engine auto start-stop etc., which can be fiddly and distracting when driving. Thankfully, at least physical dials for audio volume and tuning remain.

Practicality isn’t really your concern when you buy a two-seat mega car like this, so let’s just say it’s about as practical as you would expect it to be. Not very, then.

The Caddy’s 1508kg tare weight and 2250kg GVM results in a 742kg payload rating, of which up to 100kg can be legally carried on the roof where external anchorage points are provided for roof racks or rails.

It’s also rated to tow up to 1500kg of braked trailer, although its relatively low 75kg tow-ball download (TBD) limit could present a challenge, given that TBD is typically about 10 per cent of trailer weight. So, a 150kg TBD rating would be better.

Volkswagen also does not publish a GCM (Gross Combination Mass) rating, so we don’t know how much it can legally carry and tow at the same time.

The cargo bay, which offers up to 3.1 cubic metres of load volume, is accessed through a kerbside sliding door or asymmetric rear barn-doors.

Its 1797mm length and 1614mm width with 1230mm between the rear wheel-housings provides good versatility, given it can carry an 1165mm-square Aussie pallet or 1000 x 1200mm Euro 3 pallet, two 800mm x 1200mm Euro pallets, or two 720 x 830mm bread-roll containers.

However, with the sliding side-door’s 695mm opening, all of these would need to be loaded through the rear barn-doors which offer 180-degree opening for easy forklift or loading dock access. The load floor is protected by a thick moulded-rubber liner and there are six load-anchorage points.

The cargo bay walls and doors are lined to mid-height and there are two bright LED roof lights and a handy 12-volt socket.

Driver and passenger have ample cabin storage with large-bottle holders and bins in each front door, a handy pull-out compartment to the right of the steering column, numerous bins embedded in the dash-pad, full-width overhead shelf, a large glovebox and a centre console with dual small-bottle/cup holders and numerous storage nooks.

Our test vehicle in standard Candy White is the Cargo SWB, which at entry-level is available with a 1.5-litre turbo petrol engine with six-speed manual or seven-speed auto. Or you can step-up to a 2.0-litre turbo-diesel with either a six-speed manual or (like our example) a seven-speed auto for a price of $45,990 plus on-road costs.

That’s higher than its two small van competitors, given the Renault Kangoo SWB petrol auto lists at $42,990 and Peugeot’s Partner Pro Short petrol auto is $39,990, but the Cargo is unique in offering five-star safety and its drivetrain choices.

The work-focused standard equipment list includes 16-inch steel wheels with plastic covers, 205/60R16 tyres and a full-size spare. There’s also an electronic handbrake, separate cargo bay locking system, a reversing camera, rear parking sensors, heated door mirrors, daytime running lights, two USB-C ports and two 12-volt sockets.

A moulded composite bulkhead with window separates the cabin from the cargo bay. The driver also gets a leather-trimmed flat-bottom steering wheel with multi-function controls, plus adjustable lumbar support for both driver and passenger seats.

The four-speaker multimedia system is controlled by an 8.25-inch colour touchscreen with Apple CarPlay, Android Auto and MirrorLink connectivity and FM radio, but no DAB or (sorry, talkback fans) AM band.

Volkswagen also offers numerous paint colour options and four option packs, plus there’s a genuine accessories range containing useful workhorse items like all-weather floor mats, roof racks, cargo barriers, dashcams and more.

I did want to give the epic, enormous 6.5-litre naturally aspirated V12 engine a perfect 10 here, but when I paused to think about it I had to admit that it is, quite possibly, a little too powerful.

Yes, it is amazing to think Ferrari can build a car that has 588kW (800 horsepower - hence the 812 nomenclature; 800 horses and 12 cylinders) and doesn’t just dig itself a hole in the road as soon as you put your foot down.

And yes, it does provide the kind of performance that makes all other cars seems a bit piss poor and pathetic, even the really good ones. 

But honestly, who could ever use it all, or need it all? They might seem like irrelevant questions, I guess, because it’s all about conspicuous over-excess, a car like this, so really the question is, would anyone want to live with 588kW and 718Nm of torque, or is it just too scary in reality?

Well, a little bit, yes, but Ferrari’s engineers have been wise enough not to actually give you all of that power, all the time. Torque is limited in the first three gears, and maximum mental power is actually only available, in theory, at 8500rpm in seventh gear, at which point you’d be approaching its top speed of 340km/h.

The fact that you can rev an engine this big, and this lusciously loud, all the way to 8500rpm is, however, a joy that would never tire.

In more practical terms, you can run 0-100km/h in 2.9 seconds (although cheaper, less crazy cars can do that, too) or 200km/h in 7.9 (which is a tiny bit slower than the far lighter McLaren 720S).

What you can’t do, of course, is achieve any of those numbers on winter tyres, or roads with snow on them.

Our test vehicle’s premium 2.0-litre four-cylinder turbo-diesel engine, dubbed TDI320, meets Euro6 emission standards using AdBlue, and produces 90kW at 4250rpm and 320Nm between 1500-2500rpm.

The seven-speed dual-clutch automatic offers three drive modes comprising (default) Drive, Sport or sequential manual-shifting using steering wheel-mounted paddles. There’s also an electronically-controlled automatic locking diff.

Much as you can’t have a good volcano without some serious lava, you can’t have 800 horsepower without burning a lot of dead dinosaur goo. The Superfast has a claimed fuel-economy figure of 14.9L/100km, but on our drive the screen just said "Ha!" and we burned through a whole tank of fuel in less than 300km. 
Theoretical emissions are 340g/km of CO2.

The official combined average fuel consumption is a hybrid-like 4.9L/100km and the dash display was showing 5.6L after our 355km test, of which about one third of that distance was hauling a near-maximum payload.

That wasn’t far south of our own fuel-sipping figure of 6.5L/100km, based on actual tripmeter and fuel bowser readings. Therefore, you could expect an excellent real-world driving range of up to 770km from its 50-litre tank.

Insane. It’s a word that people often lift from their lexicon when describing a supercar experience, because clearly, as forms of transport, things like Ferraris and Lamborghinis are not sane options.

But the Superfast really deserves the word, because it feels not only the opposite of sane, but truly bonkers. As if someone built it for a dare, realised it was a bad and possibly dangerous idea, and then put it on sale anyway.

Picture some tiny-handed child with his greasy, post-cheeseburger fingers poised over a big red button on his desk that could wipe out humanity, and that’s basically the situation your right leg finds itself in when driving the Superfast.

There is so much power on tap here - even the limited amount of it that the engineers allow you to access in lower gears - that it truly seems possible you’ll have a Road Runner moment, and simply dig a hole in the ground, if you push the throttle too hard.

Yes, on the one hand, the noises this extreme V12 makes above 5000rpm are memorable and moving, like Satan himself singing Nessun Dorma in a shower of sparks. At one stage we found a long tunnel, perhaps the only dry road within 500km that day, and my colleague forgot all about his licence and let rip.

The numbers on my 'Passenger Screen' spun like poker-machine wheels, then turned red and then implausible. I was shoved back into my seat as if by Thor himself, and I squealed like a small pig, but my co-driver heard nothing over the Monaco tunnel during F1 sound.

Even on dry road, of course, the winter tyres we were forced (by law) to run in the foul snowy conditions could not maintain grip, and we constantly felt the rear skipping sideways. Fortunately we were in Italy, so people simply cheered us on.

The likelihood that you will lose traction in this car is so high that the boffins have included a special feature in its new 'Electronic Power Steering' system called 'Ferrari Power Oversteer'. When you inevitably start going sideways, the steering wheel will apply subtle torque to your hands, 'suggesting' the best way to get the car back in a straight line.

A proud engineer told me that this is basically like having a Ferrari test driver in the car with you, telling you what to do, and that they used their skills to calibrate the system. You can override it, of course, but it sounds scarily like an autonomous-driving precursor to me.

What’s disappointing about this car having EPS at all, rather than a traditional hydraulic system, is that it just doesn’t feel muscular enough for a hairy-handed monster of a car like this.

It is accurate and precise and pointy, of course, and makes driving the Superfast, even in stupidly slippery conditions, almost easy. Almost.

It’s actually surprising how hard you can push a car like this along a windy and wet mountain road without careering off into a muddy field.

More time, and more traction, would have been appreciated, but you can tell it’s the sort of car you’d grow into, and perhaps even feel in control of, after a decade or so together.

So it’s good, yes, and very fast, obviously, but I can’t get past the idea that it’s all a bit unnecessary, and that a 488 GTB is simply, in every single way, a better car.

But as a statement, or a collector’s item, the Ferrari 812 Superfast certainly is one for the history books.

Its compact external dimensions are deceptive, as the cabin has ample headroom and it’s not hard for even tallish drivers (I’m 186cm) to find a comfortable position, even though the close-fitting bulkhead restricts backrest recline adjustment and the base cushion rake is fixed.

Small vans are the closest you’ll get to a car-like driving experience in light commercials and, given the Cargo’s unique turbo-diesel powertrain, it has unmatched torque output that provides energetic performance.

The shift calibrations of its seven-speed dual-clutch automatic ensure vigorous response in city and suburban driving, given that for most of the time they keep the engine operating between 1500-2500rpm, where its 320Nm of torque is served at full strength.

Combined with nicely weighted steering and four-coil suspension that provides an ideal balance of responsive handling and supple bump absorption, it’s an enjoyable and engaging vehicle to drive. The Sport drive mode and sequential manual-shifting options raise the fun level.

The gearing also ensures low-stressed highway driving with only 1600rpm required to maintain 110km/h, at which speeds the solid bulkhead minimises cargo bay noise that mostly emanates from the rear tyres. However, tyre noise can still be intrusive on certain grades of coarse bitumen.

To test its payload rating, we forklifted 650kg into the cargo bay through the rear barn-doors, which with driver equalled a total payload just shy of its 742kg payload limit. The rear suspension compressed almost 60mm under this weight, with long jounce rubbers positioned inside the rear coil springs providing additional load support and, in effect, a second stage of springing.

The Caddy took this heavy load haul in its stride on city and suburban roads, gliding over bumps without a hint of bottoming-out. The payload’s effect on engine, steering and braking performance was minimal and its handling composure was maintained regardless of speed or road conditions.

It also made light work of our 13 per cent gradient, 2.0km-long set climb at 60km/h, and although engine braking on the way down required some assistance from the quartet of disc brakes to keep speeds in check, they handled this task with ease.

Our only criticism of the driving experience is that, given the substantial blind-spot over the driver’s left shoulder caused by the cargo bay’s solid walls, a Cargo buyer must pay extra to get blind-spot monitoring and rear cross-traffic alert as part of an options pack. We reckon these active features are crucial to safe van operation (any solid-walled van that is) and should be standard.

Unmatched by its small van rivals is a five-star ANCAP rating (tested 2021, expires 2027) which applies to all Cargo variants built from July 2022.

It’s equipped with seven airbags, AEB with pedestrian and cyclist monitoring, a reversing camera, rear parking sensors, daytime running lights, non-adaptive cruise control, driver fatigue alert system and more, but you must pay extra for extra safety.

Once you’ve paid the vast cost of entry, it’s nice to know you will get some stuff for free, like your first seven years of servicing, including all parts and labour, carried out by trained Ferrari technicians, who even dress like pit crew. It’s called 'Genuine Maintenance', and is genuinely Kia-challenging in its scope.

The Caddy comes with a five-year/unlimited-kilometre warranty and 12 months roadside assist.

Scheduled servicing is every 15,000km or 12 months, whichever occurs first.

An optional five-year pre-paid service package is available for the price of a three-year package ($2000), so that’s two free services and savings of up to $1439 compared to pay-as-you-go capped-price servicing. In other words, an average annual servicing cost of $400.