Mitsubishi Pajero vs Ferrari 812

What's the difference?

The Mitsubishi Pajero Sport GLS 2WD seven-seater is a well-built and well-priced family-friendly wagon.

It's nice to drive, has a rather comfortable interior and – bonus – the vehicle on which it's based has proven credibility as a no-nonsense and highly functional touring vehicle.

But in 2WD guise it's missing something: namely Super Select II, which accounts for a considerable chunk of the 4WD Pajero Sport’s appeal – so the absence of that in this 2WD version is a significant negative, in my books.

The not-so-subtle point I’m trying to make? Sure, the 2WD Pajero Sport is a few grand cheaper than its 4WD stablemate and it's a solid value-for-money buy as is, but I reckon paying the extra cash to get your hands on a Pajero Sport that's equipped with Super-Select II is the better bet.

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.

The Pajero Sport is 4825mm long (with a 2800mm wheelbase), 1815mm wide and 1835mm high. It has an official kerb weight of 1980kg.

I don’t mind the styling of the Pajero Sport. It doesn’t look as bulky as many of its rivals and it manages to have a rather contemporary, but comfortably middle of the road, presence.

If you’re that concerned about keeping up appearances, perhaps take a look at a Pajero Sport in the metal, drive it, imagine yourself living with it day to day, then make up your own mind whether you think it suits you or not.

Easy.

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.

The interior has a practical and familiar feel about it. Sure, it’s a bit on the basic side of things – with cloth seats and rubber floor mats – and it certainly lacks the plethora of soft-touch surfaces some of its more expensive rivals may have, but this interior’s life-friendly sense is a bigger positive for it than any posh addition could be.

The front seats are rather supportive, with a real snug feel to them, and are manually adjustable, which is fine with me.

The reach- and height-adjustable steering wheel has paddle shifters for when your driving takes on more of a sense of urgency. 

The dash and 8.0-inch touchscreen media unit has an integrated sense to it. And this cabin’s all-pervasive sense of familiarity continues here with all of the buttons and dials easy to spot on the fly and, more importantly, operate without fumbling around for them.

Driver and front passenger have access to media and aircon controls, among others, as well as cup-holders in between the front seats, a bottle holder in each of the doors, and small spots here and there for your wallet, keys etc.

The second row is suitably comfortable and I sat behind my driving position and there was plenty of head and leg room. It’d be much squeezier for those of us who stand at six-feet (182cm) or beyond.

Second-row passengers have access to a fold-down arm-rest with cup holders, air vents and there are USB charge points and a power socket in the rear of the centre-console. 

The seat-backs have map pockets and the doors each have a bottle holder.

The second row is equipped with three child-seat top-tether points, and two ISOFIX points. It is a 60:40 split-fold configuration.

Passengers in the third-row seat have access to cup-holders and air vents, but that’s little compensation because the space back here is on the wrong side of tight. 

The third row is a 50:50 split-fold configuration.

In terms of packability, the rear cargo area’s volume is listed as 131 litres when all three rows are being used as seating; 502 litres when two rows are in use; and 1488 when the second and third rows are stowed away. 

Annoyingly, the third row is a real bugger to stow away and doesn’t fold flat into the floor. Maybe I’m missing a trick but this third-row strife was a source of more than a bit of frustration for the photographer and I – and we’re both experienced vehicle-based travellers.

The rear cargo area is equipped with power sockets and tie-down points. There is a shallow underfloor storage box back there as well.

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.

Is it possible that any car - save one made from gold, dusted with diamonds and stuffed with truffles - would represent good value at a price of $610,000? It seems unlikely, but then people who can spend that much assay value differently, and would probably say that something as profound as the 812 Superfast is worth buying at any price.

Another way to look at it is price-per-litre, which is less than $100,000, considering you do get 6.5 litres of V12 Ferrari donk. Or you could go by kilowatt, which works out at nearly $1000 each for your 588kW.

Other than that you do get a lot of leather, a high-quality interior, superior exterior styling, badge-snob value that’s hard to put a price on and vast swathes of F1-derived technology. And a free car cover.

The Pajero Sport has a 2.4-litre, four-cylinder turbo-diesel engine, which produces 133kW at 3500rpm and 430Nm at 2500rpm, and it has an eight-speed automatic transmission.

This 2WD variant does not have Mitsubishi’s impressive Super-Select II 4WD system, of which I’m a big fan, and that absence is a substantial negative against it, I reckon. But more about that very soon…

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.

The 2WD Pajero Sport has an offical fuel consumption of 8.0L/100km on a combined cycle. 

On our test, which included a stint of dirt-road driving, we recorded fuel consumption from fill to fill of 9.2L/100km.

It has a 68-litre fuel tank so, with that sort of fuel-consumption figure, you can reasonably expect a driving range of approximately 690km from a full tank, but that’s factoring in a safe-distance buffer of 50km.

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.

This is mostly a smooth driving wagon while tackling daily duties on the blacktop and with some highway stretches thrown into the mix. 

Steering has a nice weight to it and the Pajero Sport is a nimble, highly manoeuvrable SUV, with a turning circle of 11.2m, even if it does start to reveal more than a bit of body-roll through more aggressive driving. No surprise and no worries – this is an SUV after all, not a sports car. 

Also, worth noting is the fact that our test vehicle’s alloy bullbar made it heavier at the front end thus affecting its handling somewhat.

Throttle response is sharp and the 2WD Pajero Sport retains the line-up’s punchy turbo-diesel engine and teamed with the eight-speed auto it makes for a quietly effective, rarely stressed working partnership, rather than an energetic match-up.

The suspension set-up here – double wishbones with coil springs and stabiliser bar at the front, and three-link, coil springs and stabiliser bar at the rear – yields a very firm ride and one which can tend towards jarring if you’re traversing chopped-up back-country bitumen or really anything beyond bitumen that's in good nick.

The tyres – Toyo Open Country A32 (265/60R18) – are well-suited to bitumen, not so much to off-roading, which is perfectly reasonable for this 2WD vehicle. Also, this rubber is on the correct side of quiet.

As mentioned earlier, Mitsubishi’s Super-Select II 4WD system is missing from this variant, obviously, as this is a 2WD. And that’s a crying shame because even if you never venture off the road, Super-Select II is very handy. In Pajero Sports equipped with it, you can drive in 4H (4WD high range) even on bitumen or any high-traction surface because 4H in this vehicle means that – and I’m directly quoting Mitsubishi’s offical system explanation here – “all wheels are driven via the transfer case with an open centre differential, this means all four wheels will send power to the ground while still operating independently of one another”.

If you drove like that in most other 4WDs – at speed in 4H on bitumen or the like – you’d risk transmission wind-up, but there’s no danger of that in a 4WD Pajero Sport because its centre diff is open, not locked, when 4H is engaged.

This gives the driver increased traction and so better control and that means it’s a safer all-round driving experience for everyone involved.

Unfortunately, none of those benefits are available in this 2WD variant.

Having said all of that, this Pajero Sport is very drivable, functional and still manages to retain respectable, if not high, levels of refinement.

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.

It might not surprise you to hear that, unlike every other company’s press kits, the Ferrari ones don’t generally include a section on 'safety'. Perhaps because driving something this powerful is inherently unsafe, or possibly because they believe their 'E-Diff 3', 'SCM -E' (magnetorheological suspension control with dual-coil system), 'F1-Traction Control', ESC and so forth will keep you on the road no matter what. 

If you do fly off, you’ll have four airbags, and a nose as big as a house forming a crumple zone, to protect you.

Pajero Sport 2WD is eligible for Mitsubishi's so-called "10/10 Diamond Advantage" package, which includes a 10-year/200,000km warranty and 10 year/150,000km capped price servicing. But you need to ensure you get the vehicle serviced at an authorised Mitsubishi dealer to take advantage of the 10-year warranty plan.

Each capped price servicing extends free roadside assistance by another 12 months.

The servicing schedule and costs per service are: $399 (at 12months/15,000), $399 (24 months/30,000km), $499 (36 months/45,000km), $699 (48 months/60,000km), $499 (60 months/75,000km), $699 (72 months/90,000km), $499 (84 months/105,000km), $999 (96 months/120,000km), $599 (108 months/135,000km), and $699 (120 months/150,000km).

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.