Highway to the danger zone

I am in love with an Italian; sleek, suave, sophisticated and very, very fast. We spent one weekend together and my life will never be the same again. The worrying thing is my husband is in love too - with the same Italian. This could end in tears.

The cockpit of a Ferrari (this is not a mere car interior) reminds me of an ultra-stylish bachelor pad, all beige leather, state of the art technology - and a tendency to have you half horizontal before you know it. I almost expect the car to ask me to slip into something more comfortable as I lay back in the required driving position in the Ferrari F430 coupe.

Once you forget the badge on the steering wheel - the sight of which can make novices break out in a cold sweat - a Ferrari is a surprisingly easy car to drive; it is just the other drivers on the road you have to watch out for. Nothing makes heads turn or concentration to falter more than a fleet of Ferraris. I get a first-hand experience of this as a truck comes up behind me, far too close for comfort ,while the driver leans his elbows on the wheel to take a picture of us with his iPhone.

Ahead of me the other cars pick up speed, a ribbon of red on the open road. I am beginning to understand why you never see an ad for 'Ferrari for sale -one careful owner' - this car invites you to put your foot down, it begs for it in a sexy Italian accent, it purrs for pure acceleration. I always knew i was meant for life in the fast lane. No wonder the Prancing horse mantra is 'never over take the lead car'. It would be oh, so tempting.

Along the cliff-hugging Grand Pacific Drive, the ocean sparkles sapphire bright beside us as we race towards the spectacular Sea Cliff Bridge, its space-age curves just made for fast car photo opportunities (see Insider Secret box). In my book this route should be up there with great drives of the world because it is as least as beautiful as the more famous Great Ocean Road in Australia's Victoria and or Highway 1 in California.

Our lunch stop is In Kiama and as we slow through town kids wave, two adolescents on skateboards give us the thumbs up and a gaggle of old ladies shriek as if they've seen The Queen - we're superstars, automobile royalty. I toss my hair like Kate Middleton and give a royal wave but it's the car they're swooning over.

I've definitely got scarlet fever. Red is the only colour that counts darling. If you see someone driving a blue Ferrari it probably means they have more than one. "But you always remember your first" laughs Matt Thio from Prancing Horse. The first day is over all too soon and the Ferraris are lined up like trophies in the hotel car park. We drivers hover finding it hard to leave them.

The next morning when it is time to leave the mechanic has already been down to the car park to wake his babies gently, letting the cars idle themselves awake. "God they really are Italian,' says a fellow driver . 'they need a croissant and a coffee and a cigarette before they'll get up". But doesn't any superstar?