Kia Stinger vs Lamborghini Aventador

What's the difference?

The Stinger GT-Line is a great machine. It looks good, feels good to drive and while it's not the cheapest large sedan, it's also not a Camry. With a strong European vibe, it's a nice bridge between boring-dependable and out-of-reach European. Boasting a strong link to Europe in its chassis DNA, it has it all apart, maybe, from the badge.

But Kia has a habit of doing unexpected things and the Stinger was a bold move worth making just for the halo effect of having such a cool car in the range. It has done good things for the company's reputation, as though the rest of the range isn't proof already.

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 Stinger looks fantastic. I know the car has its detractors, but there's a massive Euro influence here that sits well in my visual cortex. It's maybe not as ooh-aah as the A5 or the outgoing BMW 4 Series Gran Coupe, but the Stinger can and should be mentioned in the same breath. It looks terrific, even if it is a bit fussier in the details.

From the signature grille, the low beltline, big wheels and sports coupe roofline, it looks sleek and sophisticated. 

Inside is a bit more conventional, with some real classic touches such as circular air vents, conventional-looking gear selector and a flat-bottomed steering wheel. It's cool, clean and, with the big new screen, a bit more techy-looking than before. There are lots of nice materials and the odd rogue one, but it's a good cabin that feels well put-together.

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.

This is really a four-seater car. While there is good legroom in the rear, the falling roofline, small door aperture and huge transmission tunnel box you in a bit, almost rendering the middle seat useless for all but the shortest of folks. You do get your own air vents, though, which is generous.

The low roof also means limited headroom, made a little worse by the standard sunroof. I had room but taller people might brush the headlining. There are two cupholders front and rear for a total of four and each door has a bottle holder.

The boot is a modest-for-this-size 406 litres, rising to 1114 litres with the seats down. Access to the boot is good if not spectacular; the hatch opens wide but a slightly narrow aperture means loading and stowing flat packs and things like that could be a struggle.

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.

Under the GT-Line's bonnet is Kia's Theta II 2.0-litre four-cylinder turbocharged engine. It's the same as before, with a stout 182kW and 353Nm. Driving the rear wheels is an eight-speed automatic from the Hyundai-Kia empire.

It's pretty rapid, knocking out the 0-100km/h spring in just six seconds, a mere 1.1 seconds slower than its faster sibling's 4.9 for the benchmark.

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.

Kia's claimed combined cycle figure is 8.8L/100km. As the Stinger goes without trickery like stop-start or mild hybridness, it's no surprise that my week with it yielded an indicated 10.4L/100km, which isn't bad for a 1750kg sports sedan that was not molly-coddled and also spent some time in a resurgent case of crap traffic in Sydney.

It also drinks standard unleaded, which is a nice touch.

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.

I have driven and loved the Stinger GT. It's tremendous fun, goes like a rat running away from a cut snake, which itself is being chased by a mongoose with its bottom on fire, and it handles like a proper sports sedan.

The GT-Line is obviously not that quick, but it's not slow, either. But it does take a bit of the GT's DNA and delivers a driving experience eerily reminiscent of an E90 BMW 3 Series. That seems like an out-of-date reference, but it was a beautiful car to drive with a lovely balance of ride and handling.

The steering has good feel and you know what's going on underneath the front wheels. You sit towards the centre of the car, also a BMW trademark. Turn the wheel and the car goes with you, despite its bulk, and it's happy to dance a bit with its limited-slip diff.

The 2.0-litre turbo does a good job in most conditions but you feel it coming up short when you're hustling it. It's never breathless, but the torque deficit to the turbo six is clear. If you've not driven the faster Stinger, you may not notice, but there's a touch of lag in the 2.0 that contributes to the idea it's working hard to move the big sedan.

But back off a little and it becomes a fluid, fun drive. In town it's firm but very comfortable, gently bumping rather than crashing into potholes. The rear suspension is a complicated five-link set-up that costs money and eats into boot space but delivers the goods.

Given its length the Stinger is a bit tough to manoeuvre in tight spaces and its 11.2m turning circle isn't too flash either, but you soon get used to it.

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.

Kia's ground-breaking seven year/unlimited kilometre warranty along with roadside assist for the first 12 months. Each time you service your car at Kia, you get an extension on your roadside assist for up to eight years.

Perhaps the only thing that makes you go, "Oh, what?" about the Stinger is the 12 months (Good)/10,000km (Oh...) service intervals. That's pretty common with Kia's turbo engines but is a little inconvenient. Then there's the cost - prices range from $312 to $685, which adds up to $3459 over the first seven services. If you stay under 10,000km/year, that's not bad going at under $500 per year for servicing, but if you're a high-miler, it will add up.

The servicing isn't outrageous - and the prices are capped - but it's not cheap, either.

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.