The story behind the Lamborghini Miura, the world’s first supercar

50 years ago, the world of sports cars changed forever
Image may contain Transportation Vehicle Automobile Car Tire Wheel Machine Car Wheel Spoke and Alloy Wheel
GQ Images

There's a reason nostalgists hark back to the '60s with such unequivocal fondness. It probably has something to do with that burst of human creativity resulting from liberal sensibilities slowly finding their way back into the modern stream of consciousness.

Naturally then, automotive design benefitted from the freewheeling ways of the '60s. Particularly in Italy which, soon after the Second World War, had evolved into a mecca for fast, seductive cars with racing pedigree and Hollywood patronage. It was in this mix that a relatively new player called Automobili Lamborghini intended to make a mark.

[#image: /photos/5cdc228f306c1c66a26e4abf]||| |||

Exactly 50 years ago, at the Geneva Motor Show, Lamborghini changed the world of cars forever. Back then, if you were in the market for an exotic Italian sportscar, your gaze never strayed from a Ferrari. Why should it have? Ferrari had been dominating the world of motorsports for quite some time, and that gave them carte blanche to price their road cars exorbitantly - a fact that wasn't appreciated by a certain Italian manufacturer of tractors. His name was Ferruccio Lamborghini and his spat with Enzo Ferrari over the quality of Ferrari's road cars roused his ire to an extent that he decided to build a supercar for the world that matched his own standards.

While the 350 GT and the 400 GT had been widely acknowledged as excellent first attempts at making a high-end GT car, it wasn't until the Miura came along in 1966 that the Italian car industry was properly shaken.

[#image: /photos/5cdc228f700a777212aa0c49]||| |||

In a lot of ways, the Miura was the world's first supercar. It tore past the conventions that bound automotive design to its earthly realm - it was the fastest production car of its time, and the front portion occasionally lifted off at high speeds. Designer Marcello Gandini, working for the hallowed design house of Bertone, penned a shape that had evidently taken inspiration from the female form, a design that can stop you mid-stride even 50 years later.

Although mid-engined supercars had been around in the world of motorsports, it was the Miura that kicked off a craze, forcing manufacturers, including the ones with puritanical temperaments such as Ferrari, to develop cars with the engine placed directly behind the driver in order to distribute the weight more evenly across the car.

[#image: /photos/5cdc228f306c1c83736e4ac0]||| |||

It's not surprising that the car was the highlight of the '66 Geneva Motor Show. Customers had already pre-booked the car, even when it was shown only in its P400 chassis form at the 1965 Turin Motor Show. It was novel and strange to behold, with a long swooping bonnet and headlights with 'eyelashes' and door frames which, when kept ajar resembled the horns of a bull. It was the future everyone wanted a slice of and it was compelling enough to alter Lamborghini's destiny forever, since Ferruccio Lamborghini never really set out to make a raceable supercar. He believed that investing in motorsports would drain the finances of the company unnecessarily and instead wanted to build fast, comfortable grand tourers.

However, his team of engineers, most of whom were racing enthusiasts who had previously worked with Ferrari, begged to differ and began to secretly develop a mid-engined chassis (P400). So radical was the concept, it changed Lamborghini's mind when revealed to him, baptizing the new company as the creator of the ultimate poster cars.

Given the current driver and pedestrian safety norms, a car as sensational as the Miura can never be sanctioned. But back then automotive design was more of an artistic endeavour than a technical one. The closest thing to a wind tunnel seen by a Miura was the tunnel it almost drove past in its first cameo in The Italian Job (1969).

Sure, the first crop of Miuras were prone to have their noses lifted by high speed, but those were the kind of foibles that came to define the golden age of supercars. And the car that defined the supercar for generations to come? That would be the Miura.