The McLaren Artura Spider

In case you’re unaware, the Artura Spider is McLaren’s ‘sensible’ supercar. It’s environmentally friendly, producing just 104g/km of CO2 — for comparison, a 750S produces 276g/km. Therefore, your conscience can remain clean as you hammer around a track. Unlike the 750S's V8, the Artura pairs a twin-turbocharged V6 with a plug-in hybrid system.

Before you scoff at its V6 plug-in powertrain, hear me out. The Artura Spider produces 690 bhp, meaning 0-62mph disappears in around three seconds before the Artura pushes on to a 205mph top speed. That’s very McLaren-y — and it’ll return upwards of 40 mpg if you keep the battery charged.

Living With The McLaren Artura Spider

Wet weather aside, the drive home was still exciting. I wasn’t sending it sideways like a buffoon who had just gotten their license from a cereal box. Instead, I relaxed in the Artura’s oddly comfortable seats — its speakers emitting smooth beats. The engine hummed lightly whenever the car wasn’t running on electric power alone.

Once home, I peered at it through a window leading to my driveway. Like a child waiting for the rain to stop so they can ride their bike. But no — it continued. The following morning brought sunshine at last.

I’m a 33-year-old amateur horticulturist with grand ambitions of turning my garden into a second living room. The decking was down, the hot tub was bubbling away, and the planters were ready for action. All that was missing were the plants, which meant a trip to the garden centre and, more importantly, bringing my wife along to prevent any questionable purchasing decisions. We climbed into the McLaren and set course, looking less like supercar enthusiasts and more like a pair of early retirees hunting for discounted ferns.

Now, anyone in their right mind would have a BMW X5 or a Volvo for such an occasion, but that’s too easy. With that said, I can confirm that three ferns will fit inside a McLaren Artura Spider: two in the frunk and one between the passenger’s legs. Passersby gawked as we warbled like two Kea parrots before driving towards the motorway.

When I was a child, a Lamborghini Countach poster hung on my bedroom wall. Therefore, I went bananas when I spotted one at a local car show. I remember ogling its low-slung, wide bodywork, while my dad struggled to pull me away.

The owner could see I was smitten. Unlike the other children, whose hands seemed to be made of equal parts Nutella and candy floss, I was relatively clean. The owner then lifted the partition rope, keeping greasy hands and wet noses from touching such a machine’s bodywork, so I could get a closer look. I remember sitting inside, peering over its beige interior and out of its 21-degree windshield. Yes, it had a whopping V12 in its rear, but the car was art more than anything else.

The world is serious enough. That’s why we spend time with friends, take holidays and go out for dinner; they provide a break from the everyday grind. Supercars can do something similar. When a car like the Artura passes by, conversations pause, heads turn and, for a moment, people forget whatever was occupying their thoughts. Its power goes beyond its engine bay.

My brother has three children. The housing estate in which he stays is often filled with laughter, as kids race around its monoblock-paved grounds. We visited for his birthday in the McLaren Artura, and the car lit up the estate like a flare. Children emerged from the shadows, bikes were abandoned, and parents even came to take a look. One neighbour, who was living with stage-four cancer, asked if she could sit inside. Seeing her smile as she climbed out reminded me that cars like this can bring joy in unexpected ways.

Cars like the McLaren Artura can extend beyond a rich lifestyle and top-speed metrics if you allow them to. And regardless of what some people may think, supercars and low-slung sports cars still have their place in society. If you buy one, drive it. You'll never know what people are going through — but such cars can make dark days that little bit brighter.