Alfa Romeo Giulia vs Lamborghini Aventador

What's the difference?

The Giulia is a love letter to the increasingly lost art of the sporty executive sedan. As refined as it is beautiful and oh-so elegant to drive, it’s a reminder of why we always love Alfa Romeo, even when the odds are against it.

Emotional cars like this are hard to come by and they will soon be gone, replaced by something new. The future is not necessarily worse, but it will be different, so if a sporty European sedan with a combustion engine is calling out to you don’t miss your opportunity to drive the Giulia while it still exists in this form.

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

Like any good Alfa Romeo should be, the Giulia is a work of art. It’s sleek, sharp, and immaculately proportioned.

This most recent update has artfully refined a formula too good-looking to mess with. The increasingly dorky headlamps from the previous car have been swapped out for a more contemporary all-LED set, with a three-bar DRL pattern.

The grille has also been tweaked for this update for a more modern style, and the Veloce is now graced with the iconic and more aggressive sport two-tone alloy wheels in the traditional five-hole 'tele-dial' style.

It’s effortlessly attractive, and instantly recognisable as an Alfa on the road. I can’t think of a better way to stand out in today’s executive sedan landscape.

The interior has received less of an upgrade for the 2024 model year, with the same core parts. The major change is the old-school analogue instrument cluster being swapped out for a slick 12.3-inch digital unit.

The puzzling thing about this is the 8.8-inch central multimedia screen hasn’t been upgraded in-kind, making a strange contrast between the sharp and fast digital instruments, and the laggy and dull multimedia panel.

At least it effortlessly sits behind the curvaceous design of the dash as to not interrupt a good shape.

There are of course plenty of other touches which I love. The leather seats look and feel the part, as do the real metal paddle shifters which float behind the simple yet refined and sporty steering wheel.

The push-to-start button on the wheel is reminiscent of other Italian sports machines, while the tasteful smattering of leather, gloss plastic, and textured surfaces keep the premium feel on-track.

Some areas I’m not so keen about: Some of the interior plastics, particularly for buttons and toggles, feel cheaper than they should, and the door cards are oddly basic considering how much attention has been given to every other part of this car’s look and feel.

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.

The Giulia is an old-school low-slung sports sedan. Many will prefer the SUV sensibilities of the Stelvio, with its bigger hatch-opening boot, and its higher ride height can better accommodate less mobile passengers, and makes it easier to fit child seats and the like.

For those willing to trade those things away for a superior drive experience, the Giulia is still solid to live with every day, but has a few drawbacks.

For example, those strangely basic door cards offer only a tiny map pocket with a nook I’d hardly describe as a bottle holder.

The centre console offers two larger bottle holders with variable edges, but there’s also not much else in the way of storage in the cabin aside from a smaller-than-average glove box and armrest console box.

The big win for me is the physical dial set and shortcut buttons for all the key climate functions, making it easy to operate while you’re concentrating on driving.

At least the seats are well bolstered, and front passengers are treated to plenty of adjustability. Visibility is okay, and it was easy for me to find a comfortable driving position at 182cm tall.

The rear seat is a similar story. It’s tighter, and you have to duck down below the roofline to get into it.

Once inside, I was pleasantly surprised to find enough room for my knees and somewhere for my feet to slide behind my own driving position, although the centre position is all but useless thanks to an enormous raise for the driveshaft.

Headroom is passable, but you wouldn’t want to be much taller than me. 

There are, again, tiny bottle holders in the doors, and a further two in the drop-down armrest. Rear seat passengers get dual adjustable air vents on the back of the centre console, one USB 2.0 outlet, and elastic nets on the backs of the front seats.

The boot measures 480 litres which is up there with a lot of mid-size SUVs, but because it’s a sedan, access is more limited, and it won’t accommodate as many awkwardly-shaped objects.

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.

The Veloce might not pack a Ferrari-derived six-cylinder engine like the Quadrofoglio, but its smaller 2.0-litre four-cylinder turbocharged petrol engine hardly wants for power.

Packing 206kW/400Nm it outpunches six cylinders of old easily, and is still capable of sprinting to 100km/h in a hot-hatch baiting 5.7 seconds to a Vmax of 240km/h.

It even sounds fantastic, as it flies up the rev-range living up to every bit of the Alfa promise. Peak power arrives at 5250rpm, but peak torque hits at 2250rpm.

Smooth shifts are provided courtesy of an eight-speed traditional torque converter automatic transmission.

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.

The 2.0L turbocharged engine has an official combined cycle fuel consumption figure of just 6.1L/100km, although I saw 9.0L/100km in my time with it.

I’ll admit it was being enthusiastically driven, and treated to lots of urban commuting.

The Giulia has a 58-litre fuel tank and requires mid-shelf 95 RON premium unleaded fuel. Its approximate range on a full tank at the official consumption is 951km.

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.

Put simply: The Giulia is a celebration of Alfa Romeo. Yes. Even with a humble 2.0-litre turbocharged engine and an automatic transmission, this is a deeply emotional car. A riveting experience from behind the wheel.

Fly round corners, your eyes wide, exclaiming ‘magnifico!’ as the Giulia gracefully leans in, the rear LSD, sporty tyres, and wonderfully tight steering working together in harmony as you eke out just a smidge of tyre roar.

Laugh out loud to yourself, as you plant the accelerator, hear the muted rumble of the surprisingly angry little engine, and feel the turbocharger kick in half a second later as you power out.

‘Eccezionale!’ You’ll think, as you feel the click of the immensely satisfying metal paddle-shifters, and the transmission responds in-kind, the engine roaring up the revolutions with enthusiasm.

Sure, the Veloce grade is not as raw, or as wild, or near as fast as the top-grade Quadrofoglio, but all of the exciting spirit of  that car is still here, and at a little over half the price, too. The Veloce is an absolute delight to drive.

It has such poise, makes such a fine sound, and does it all so gracefully. This is how you make a car feel as one with the driver.

Even the ride is deeply impressive. It’s not too harsh or noisy, while gifting the chassis just the right amount of lean in the corners and allowing enough play for it to remain controlled over bumps.

Not only does it work well when you’re driving as it's clearly intended to be driven, but around town it’s quiet and refined inside, living up to the promise of a luxury sedan.

The seats and bolstering are great, the visibility isn’t too bad, and while I’ll complain about the slightly laggy software on the multimedia screen, the digital dash is responsive and the physical climate controls are welcome.

It’s not all perfect. If it were, I think it might cease to be an Alfa Romeo and start sprouting BMW badges.

For example, our test car, with less than 2000km on the odometer, had various inconsistent rattles emanating from the plastic garnish around the digital dash, and somewhere behind the back seat.

Regardless, driving this car has made me a little sad Alfa will be putting this wonderful platform behind it in pursuit of more electrified goals.

I can only hope wherever the Giulia nameplate goes next, it retains the spirit of this version.

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.

Alfa finally updated its warranty to a more industry-standard five-years and unlimited kilometres in 2022.

Service intervals occur at 12 monthly or 15,000km intervals for the 2.0-litre turbocharged variants. Pricing was not available for the model year 2024 version yet in the brand’s online calculator, but to give you an idea for the pre-facelift version, pricing came in between $345 and $1065 per visit, averaging $573 per year for the first five years of ownership. Not cheap, but not as expensive to run as you might expect.

One thing you might want to keep in mind is depreciation. Boring, I know, but even late model examples of the Giulia and Stelvio have been hit particularly hard by the depreciation stick according to residual values we searched up on Autotrader.

For reference, the Genesis G70 and BMW 3 Series have both fared much better in equivalent 2.0-litre turbo forms.

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.