Holden Colorado vs Lamborghini Aventador

What's the difference?

The Holden Colorado Z71 is a pretty decent towing machine, handling all aspects of general load-lugging duties with a quiet reliable efficiency. In simple terms, it kept the whole ute-and-van combination trucking along nicely.

The Z71 is a solid Colorado package all-round with some welcome flashiness to its functionality.

The Aventador isn't the best car you can buy for the money and truth be told, it isn't the best Lamborghini, which is a bit tough when you remember the only other car they make at the moment is the V10 Huracan. But it's all about the theatre as much as being a very capable supercar. 

I'm not a Lamborghini fanboy, but I completely get the Aventador. It's a because-we-can car, just like the Murcielago, Diablo and Countach before it. But unlike those cars, it's thoroughly modern and with the upgrades introduced to the S, it's faster, harder and enormously entertaining. 

As the last of a dying breed it delivers on everything a Lamborghini should - amazing looks, nutty price tag and an engine that excites not just driver and passenger but anyone with a heartbeat. It's by far the most charismatic car you can buy, no matter how many zeroes are on the cheque.

Photography by Rhys Vanderside

The Colorado is a good-looking unit, so it follows that the Z71, the Colorado line-up's top dog, should be the best-looking vehicle in the entire range. And it is. Look at the photos yourself and make up your own mind.

The Z71's black highlights everywhere, the roof rails, side steps and fold-away tonneau cover add functionality to the flashiness.

Under its slick exterior, the Z71 sits on a steel ladder-frame chassis.

There may be no mechanical differences between the Z71 and other similarly-powered Colorado utes, but this is not merely a sticker-pack special – this is something more substantial than that. Don't believe me? Keep reading.

Asking if there's anything interesting about a Lamborghini design is kind of like asking if the sun is warm.

While there are some geese out there in the corners of the internet who think Audi has ruined Lamborghini styling, there is absolutely nothing shy about the Aventador. It's an incredible looking machine and, if I may say so, shouldn't be had in black because you miss a lot of the madder details.

This car is all about the experience.

It might look close to the deck in the photos, but however low you think it is, it's lower. The roofline barely makes it to the bottom of a Mazda CX-5's windows - you need your wits about you in this car because people just don't see you.

It is absolutely spectacular - people stop and point, one chap sprinted an easy 200 metres to take a photo of it in the Sydney CBD. Hello, if you're reading.

Inside is pretty tight indeed. It's amazing to think that a car 4.8 metres long (a Hyundai Santa Fe is 4.7 metres) struggles to contain two people over six feet tall. My six foot two photographer's head left an impression in the headlining. It's a tiny cabin. It's not a bad one though, it even has a cupholder on the rear bulkhead behind the seats.

The centre console is covered in Audi-based switchgear and is all the better for it, even if it is starting to look a bit old (those bits are from a pre-facelift B8 A4). The alloy gearshift paddles are fixed to the column and are brilliant to look at and touch, while the digital dashboard - which changes with the driving mode - is fantastic even if the reversing camera is awful.

The Z71 has a Colorado carry-over interior, which is nice and simple, with some Z71 branding stitched in the front seats.

For starters, there are grab handles for the driver and front passenger – I'm a big fan of grab handles.

The dash is a basic layout – but made family-friendly with expanses of tough plastic and soft-touch leather – and it has everything you need. The centre console houses an 8.0-inch colour touchscreen with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto and standard nav.

There is a USB port in the centre-bin, and there's a 12V socket in the back of that bin for back-seat passengers.

The cabin is reasonably comfortable; the front seats – in fact all of the Z71's seats – err on the side of firm rather than being well-cushioned. But, even in the back seat, when I sat behind my driving position, I had ample head- and leg-room.

There are the usual collection of storage spaces around the cabin – sunglasses, glove box, door pockets, seat-back pockets – but a long centre-bin lid impedes access to the cupholders in between driver and front-seat passenger, and there are no cupholders in the back seat's fold-down centre arm-rest.

There are shallow storage spots under the rear seats, one of which contains your jack etc.

Overall fit and finish is impressive without being spectacular, but that's fine with me.

The tray is 1484mm long, 1534mm wide (1122mm between the wheel-arches) and 466mm high. Back there, you get Premium DuraGuard Spray–on tub liner, which seems sturdy and durable, as well as four solid tie-down points.

Yes, well. There's not a lot of space because a V12 is not just big all on its own, all the ancillaries to support it rob a lot of the remaining space. Having said that, there's room in the front for soft bags with a 180-litre front boot, space for two people inside, a cupholder and a glove box.

And the doors open up into the sky rather than out like a normal car's. Who cares if it's impractical, it's hardly something that's going to stop someone buying one.

As with any Italian supercar, the price-to-feature ratio is rather higher than your average humdrum hatchback. A 'naked' Aventador S starts at a horse-spooking $789,425 and basically has no direct competition. Ferrari's F12 is front-mid engined and any other V12 is either a decidedly different Rolls Royce-type machine or super-expensive niche manufacturer (yes, niche compared to Lamborghini) like Pagani. They're a rare very breed, Lambo knows it, and here we are a sneeze-on-the-spec sheet away from $800,000.

So you have to keep two things in mind when rating a car's value for money at this level. The first is that there isn't any real rival in a pure sense, and if there was, it would be the same price and have the same spec. That's not excusing it, by the way, it's an explanation.

Anyway.

For your eight hundy you get 20-inch front wheels and 21-inch rears, climate control, cruise control, 7.0-inch screen (backed by an older version of Audi's MMI), four-speaker stereo with Bluetooth and USB, car cover, bi-xenon headlights, carbon ceramic brakes, electric seats, windows and mirrors, leather trim, sat nav, keyless entry and start, four-wheel steering, leather trim, digital dashboard, power folding and heated mirrors, active rear wing and active suspension.

The number of out-of-the-box options is staggering and if you're keen to really get on it, you can commission your own options when it comes to trim and paint and wheels. Let's just say that as far as the interior went, our car had almost $29,000 of Alcantara, steering wheel and yellow. The telemetry system, heated seats, some extra branding and front and reversing camera (uh-huh) added up to $24,000, the cameras almost half that total.

With all the bits and bobs, the test car we had was a sobering $910,825 before on-roads.

The Z71 has a 2.8-litre four-cylinder turbo-diesel Duramax engine (147kW at 3600rpm and 500Nm at 2000rpm), six-speed automatic transmission, a part-time 4WD system and a rear limited slip differential.

The Aventador S is powered by Automobili Lamborghini's 6.5-litre V12. You know it's a V12 because there's a plate on top of the engine (which you can see through the optional glass cover) that says so, and handily, tells you the cylinder firing order. That's a neat touch.

Buried deep in the middle of the car, this monster engine develops an astonishing 544kW (30kW up on the standard Aventador) and 690Nm. Its dry sump means the engine sits lower in the car. The gearbox is slung across the back between the rear wheels - the rear pushrod suspension actually sits on top of and across the gearbox - and is apparently brand new.

The transmission is known as an ISR (Independent Shift Rod) and has seven forward speeds and still just the one clutch. Power goes through all four wheels to the road, but it's clear the rears get the lion's share.

The 0-100km/h time is the same as the standard car, which kind of tells you that 2.9 seconds is about as quick as you can go on road tyres when you don't have four electric motors with torque from zero rpm.

Our dash display read 7.9L/100km, but we recorded actual fuel consumption on test of 9.7L/100km. It has a 76-litre fuel tank, so expect an approximate driving range of 753km (according to our on-test fuel consumption), factoring in a 30km safety buffer.

On our towing loop, of more than 200km total, the dash was showing 14.5L/100km, but we recorded an actual fuel-consumption figure of 15.5L/100km. Expect an approximate driving range of 460km (according to our on-test fuel consumption), factoring in a 30km safety buffer.

Hilariously, the official figure is 16.9L/100km. I doubled it without trying. Simple as that. If you're buying this car thinking it will be easy on the juice, you're insane.

Cheeringly, Lambo has at least tried, the V12 going silent when you sit at the lights, the best thing being the way it bursts back into life when you lift off the brake.

If you have the time available, it takes 90 litres of premium unleaded to fill the tank.

The Z71 has a steel ladder-frame chassis, double-wishbone front suspension and leaf-spring live rear axle, so it's more aligned with heavy-duty work than smooth on-road performance.

Having said that, the Z71 is quite settled over most surfaces, including highway bitumen and rough back-road backtop, and at most speeds – rather impressive for an unladen ute.

Steering is a bit floaty, with some play in it, and there is noticeable understeer on corners.

The engine is one of the torquiest in the current-day ute mob – only matched by V6 utes – and it delivers that torque quite evenly and smoothly across the rev range. The Duramax turbo-diesel can, however, be noisy, and because of that it seems like it's working hard, though it never feels too stressed, even when towing a caravan that has a caravan with a tare (empty) weight of 2600kg.

There's plenty of life in terms of acceleration with active pedal-feel but, when it comes time to pulling up to a fast stop on front disc and rear drum brakes, the brake pedals are rather spongy.

The six-speed auto is generally spot-on for all duties, although it did occasionally down-shift with an extra violence of action when it didn't really need to.

Ride and handling are pretty good, with its Aussie-tuned suspension (including traditional-ute leaf-springs at the rear) doing a decent job of sorting everything evenly, and it was only ever rattled by very severe bumps, wash-outs, and ruts at lower speeds, i.e. during low-range 4WDing.

The Z71's on-road performance and refinement are generally not as polished as segment leaders, but that's nowhere near a deal-breaker.

In Strada or Street mode, awful. Everything is slow and doughy, particularly the gearshift which goes looking for a gear like dog looking for a stick you didn't throw, but instead hid behind your back. The low-speed ride is nothing less than terrible, fidgeting over every single lump and bump and is only slightly more appealing than being dragged along behind.

The gearbox is really the worst bit about it. Automotive history is littered with cars that laboured along with a single clutch semi-auto: Alfa Romeo 156, BMW's E60 M5 and today the Citroen Cactus is stuck with just such a dud transmission.

Like that old M5, however, there's a trick to making the gearbox work for you - show absolutely no mercy.

Switch the selector up to Sport, get off the highway or major arterial road and head for the hills. Or better still, a clear race track. Then the Aventador goes from a pain in the rear to a glorious, roaring, completely unhinged and unhinging battle cruiser. This car is all about the experience, from the second you lay eyes on it to the moment you put it to bed.

This isn't an everyday supercar and it's absurd to think Lamborghini thinks it is.

First up, there's the obvious entry point with those wacky doors. While it's tricky to get in, if you're under six feet and reasonably mobile, stick your backside in, keep your head down and you're in. If you've been clever, you've specified the glass engine cover so you can see out the back but the huge wing mirrors are surprisingly effective.

Has someone thoughtlessly parked the car in a tight spot? No trouble, the four wheel steer makes the car absurdly manoeuvrable given its extravagant length and width.

As we've already established, it's not much fun at low speeds, waiting until about 70km/h before things start to make a bit more sense. This isn't an everyday supercar and it's absurd to think Lamborghini thinks it is. It just isn't.

The old Aventador was not the most capable of machines but made up for it with its overall belligerence. The new S takes that aggro and dials it up. When you move the drive mode to Sport you are basically unleashing hell. You can pretend to be super-masculine and switch to Corsa (race) mode, but it's all about getting the car straight and getting you around the track in the most efficient way possible. Sport is where it's at if you want to have fun.

The Aventador is about being seen, but not before you've been heard - from two postcodes away. It really is utterly glorious when you have a stretch of road to yourself. The V12 revs furiously to its 8400rpm redline and the wallop of the upshift is accompanied with a fantastic bark and a burst of blue flame. And these aren't the best bits.

Approach a corner, stomp on the colossal carbon ceramic brakes and the exhaust erupts in a combination of bangs and pops and growls that puts a smile on even the most hardened car-hater's face. The fact it steers into corners with just a demure roll of the wrist, aided and abetted by that funky four-wheel steering system. It's just brilliant, addictive and truth be told, it gets under your skin.

The Aventador doesn't have an ANCAP safety rating but the carbon chassis also comes with four airbags, ABS, stability and traction controls.

Holden offers a five-year, unlimited-kilometre warranty across the Colorado range, with servicing required every 12 months or 12,000km. Capped price servicing applies over seven years/ 84,000km with the average annual cost over three years working out to be $405.

In an unexpected twist, you'll get a three-year/100,000km warranty and the option to increase to four years ($11,600!) or five years ($22,200!)(!). Having recovered from typing that, given the cost of something going wrong, that's probably money well-spent.