The Bernina
Pass Job

(I.C.E. St. Moritz) It’s been a month since Maison Ë last reported from St. Moritz, where we attended The International Concours of Elegance—The I.C.E. St. Moritz for short. Spending two days among some of the most extraordinary classic and collector cars on the planet was an experience in itself. But while we were there, we also had a small side mission to complete.

We needed to deliver around 50 copies of the printed edition of Maison Ë to our partner, Bugatti, and distribute a few more to friends certain to be orbiting the town. All that remained was to choose the right tool for the job.

Enter the 2003 Lamborghini Gallardo: a V10 Italo-German masterpiece with four-wheel drive, a gated manual gearbox and—wonderfully—a cassette player. The perfect instrument with which to tackle the Bernina Pass, linking the Engadine to Val Poschiavo on the Italian side. Time to cue the music and get to work.

THE ORIGINS
The Gallardo was the second car, just after the Lamborghini Murciélago, to be released under parent company Audi, which acquired the brand back in 1998—a time when Ferdinand Piëch was steering the Volkswagen Group towards broader expansion.

Based on an initial concept by Fabrizio Giugiaro and finalized by Peruvian-born Belgian designer Luc Donckerwolke, the Gallardo—apart from receiving a Red Dot Design Award—was the first of a series of tamer, more sober, restrained, and usable Lamborghinis. Back then, this came as a shock to purists, who refused to accept the direction in which the brand was heading. They picked on it, pointing to the apparent lack of “bedroom poster” appeal, the conventional doors (all “real” Lamborghinis since the Countach had scissor doors, after all), and the Audi A8-derived switchgear.

But its critics missed what truly mattered. Here was a Lamborghini with a gloriously sonorous, even-firing V10. And perhaps more importantly, here was a Lamborghini that worked.

The car premiered at the 2003 Geneva Motor Show and, contrary to what the malcontents believed, sold quite well, with over 930 models finding customers within the first year of production.

THE DRIVE UP
The car I am sitting in on a sub-zero Thursday morning in February 2026 is, in fact, one of those examples—a very early VIN 2003 car in Nero Pegaso (albeit first registered in 2004). A car that, due to its unusual provenance, still carries several components from the prototype phase—and, as the owner who lent it to me later tells me, “when it’s taken in for service, the Lamborghini guys sometimes don’t fully know what they are looking at.”

Promising.

Speaking of which—I turn the key in the ignition, and the engine comes alive with a loud roar. A tamed, usable Lamborghini? Hmmm…

Maybe it’s because this is an early, almost-prototype car, but to gentlemanly ears, the sound of the fuel pump would be considered deafening—in addition to the whine of the Graziano gearbox, which would definitely take my hearing away were it not for the absolutely epic, thundering sound of the engine. Gingerly, I ease the Gallardo into gear, only to find that I have to use slightly more conviction to operate the controls. The clutch travel is long and takes some getting used to, but after a minute of uncertainty we manage to ease out of the hotel parking lot and onto the main road.

This compact black beast has, since new, covered barely 10,000 km—one could say it has barely been run in. I give it a couple of kilometers to warm up while I familiarize myself with its features.

Visibility is good, the seating position perfect. The car quickly becomes an extension of myself, and a few roundabouts make me realize that although the climate control might have come from an Audi, the steering definitely hasn’t. It’s fast and direct, and the car feels extremely responsive to driver input. For now, however, it seems sluggish, and I’m under the impression that my 911 Carrera 2— only two years older than this car—has more torque. Where are the 500 hp of this 1.5-ton car hidden? Further up the rev range, perhaps?

Once the oil and water temperatures reach their nominal values, I decide to give it the beans. All hell doesn’t break loose. This is not a Star Trek warp-speed, Star Wars jump-to-hyperspace experience. Just horse after horse as the power develops. Predictably. Progressively. Understandably. Right to the almost 9,000 rpm redline. Peak power is reached at 7,800 rpm, peak torque at 4,500. So this is where all those 500 horses were hiding.

Unfortunately, as we start to climb, more and more snow appears on the road, so unsubtle throttle inputs become increasingly risky. While the efficient Swiss road service crews attack the problem, we climb further up the Bernina.

IT’S A V10 RALLY CAR
Then comes the revelation.

With the ESP switched off, this mid-engined machine is fantastically playful in these conditions. Balancing it on the throttle while snow-drifting—even for a mediocre driver like myself—is easy (it only took one parking-lot spin to understand where the limits lie). In fact, this is not a Lamborghini supercar. This is a V10 Subaru Impreza rally car—albeit in slightly better-fitting clothing.

Adding to the effect is the specific engine mapping the Gallardo seems to have, spitting and backfiring from the two exhaust tips like a rally thoroughbred. No software trickery—just pure fury. Miles to the gallon? Not so many. Smiles per mile? Plenty.

THE MISSION
After a brief stop at the Meyers Manx Café in Pontresina, where we encounter a convoy of friends in their classic and performance cars—who also had the idea of driving over the Bernina Pass that morning, just in the opposite direction—we finally reach St. Moritz.

A minute ago, we were surrounded by pristine Alpine nature, almost alone save for the snowploughs. Now we are navigating streets full of shoppers and onlookers.
In our Maison Ë St. Moritz Shuttle livery, the Gallardo attracts as much attention as more exotic—and certainly more expensive—machinery, like the two Marc Philipp Gemballa Marsien we encounter and the Touring Superleggera Veloce 12 restomods.

We drive onto the frozen lake to deliver the magazines, passing I.C.E. security without any problems—amazing what a sports car with an interesting livery can pull off; no one questions our presence. The mission is declared accomplished as magazines stored in the frunk and the passenger footwell disappear into the Bugatti tent. A few moments later, the Gallardo itself disappears into the bowels of the hotel car park. I observe the valet trying to make sense of its difficult clutch with some satisfaction and look forward to driving this car again tomorrow.

Yes, there might be faster, more powerful, and newer Lamborghinis that have Apple CarPlay and can drive on battery power alone, but with its timeless looks—which have aged remarkably well—the Gallardo, especially in manual form, is the perfect proposition for an enthusiast driver. And I strongly doubt that these new cars are actually any better.