1975 LAMBORGHINI COUNTACH LP400
Chassis #1120168
Engine #1120168

Supplied new to South Africa. The car was one of two LP400's assembled under licence from Lamborghini Spa in Cape Town by Intermotor Makers, a company owned by Gerbrand Steenkamp, a Lamborghini enthusiast.

Second owner in South Africa was Jahann Brink until 1984 when he sold it. At that time it was light metallic blue with a white interior.

1989 - Imported with only 400km (according to import document) from South Africa to UK by Finlay Gorman of Henley-On-Thames, Oxfordhire. Engine number on import document incorrectly listed as 1120192 (as 0192 has been verified in March 2004 as still being in car #0192 since new) and the car was red in color.

Sold for approximately 100,000 by Finlay Gorman to a businessman who lived in the West End of London and was a collector.

1989 - 1991 - Completely restored for him by Portman Lamborghini at a cost of £60,000. Color changed again to Yellow with all new glass and Black leather interior. Registered WYN 820S.

1991 - Won Lamborghini Owners Club Concours.

1995 - Part exchanged to Coys of Kensington and offered at their 1995 Silverstone auction, est. £35,000-45,000 with no reserve. Sold to a London dealer for £32,000 plus premium.

1996 - Resold to Toby Smith, a member of the rock group Jamiroquai.

1997 - This car won a 'Car of the Day' award at Auto Italia Brooklands.

Late 1990s - Owned by David Thomas. Offered for sale by Pullicino Classics and tested by various UK magazines.

2001 - Sold at the Sportscar show at Birmingham, NEC.

2002 - In the hands of a UK collector but in storage. It was sold by dealer Garage on the Green who no longer exist.

AutoItalia Article by Roberto Giordanelli

Often overshadowed by its winged and bespoilered bretheren, the LP400 represents Bertone's stunning design in its purest form.

Lets' face it, the Countach is as brash as the '70s decade in which it was born. Where its predecessor (the Miura) was as sexy as a Parisian waitress (or waiter), the Countach is as sexy as Jason King. Yep, the '60s was a tough act to follow.

The first Countach appeared on Bertone's stand at the Geneva Show in 1971 - the same year that "Hot pants" were invented, yuk. All the exciting bits were squeezed into the rear end and difficult to get at - just like the car. Gandini styled the Countach and it was called the LP500 (Longitudinale Posteriore 5-litre). Only one was built and it had a 5-litre 440bhp engine. Production did not get underway until 1974. The production LP 400 Countach was now fitted with the smaller 4-cam, 4-litre, 375 bhp engine. Later Countach milestones were the 1978 LP 400S, the 1981 LP 500S and in the 1985 the 5.2-litre Quatrovalvole (455bhp). Here we test an early LP 400 Countach.

That very first Countach LP 500 had a semi-monocoque chassis but the production LP 400 cars had an intricate tubular steel spaceframe. This is an immensely strong structure with dozens of steel tubes welded together in such a way that they only have to deal with compression and tension loads; tricky bending moments are at a minimum. On this main chassis, a lightweight steel superstructure supports the handmade aluminium body panels. The upward opening doors are hand-fitted to each car. i don't know how to describe the styling. The Miura was an impossible act to follow but whether the design anarchy of the Countach was the way to go, I know not. From any angle it looks mad, only to look madder as the later cars evolved big arches and spoilers. But even this "pure" early yellow peril stops the traffic wherever it goes.

Ideally the Countach should be radio-controlled. It is when you install a human being that the problems arise. With the door open and looking into the car you notice that the two seats are very narrow and low between the immense door sills and broadbeamed transmission tunnel. Compared with today's curvy, roundy, friendly designs, the Countach - inside or out - assaults the eye with coarse angles and poor ergonomics. From the driver's seat you can see forward with the usual limitations of a 3ft 6in high car. Rear vision is by interior mirror only. Originally this gave a narrow field of vision through a recess in the roof. On this car it has been replaced by a mirror glued on to the screen which obscures some of the driver's forward field of vision. Anything not directly behind the car is unseen. Rear three-quarter view? Forget it. Even side view is awkward, the door glass horizontal mid-frame coincides nicely with your eye level. Unless you have a head the size of a tennis ball, you can't lean out of the window. Exterior mirrors? Not on this car.

You can never forget that the Countach's components are 99% mechanical and 1% for creature comforts. Air-conditioning is fitted and just works. So much has been sacrificed to the power unit - the magnificent V12 motor sits just ahead of the rear wheels, with the gearbox further forward; you actually sit alongside it. The drive is then taken back through the engine's sump to a differential mounted at the rear.

The engine does not so much burst into life as explode into a cacophony of whoops. Far too loud for noise restricted race track use, however remote; a crazy situation has arisen where noisy production cars like big Lambos and De Tomasos are OK if driven in cities, but are banned from de-populated motorsport areas. Our car was difficult to master as the throttle action needed attention. Press the pedal - nothing. Is it jammed? Have a look, no. Press harder - still solid, a little harder and wham! The tacho flies round the dial, dogs bark, babies cry and car alarms go off.

The stiff clutch, clunky gear lever and vague brake pedal pale into insignificance when trying to control the engine speed. At any rpm, the din ensures that even the visually impaired notice the Countach. The bellow and wail from the exhaust is joined by the induction roar through the twelve big butterflies. It doesn't end there; on slowing down, the crackling and popping on over-run has to be heard to be believed. This is from an era before injection and engine management. In those days there was no other way of getting nearly 100bhp per litre. To really appreciate an early Lamborghini power unit you need to rev it. Unlike a Jaguar V12 that's all over by 5,000 rpm, the Lambo screamer does not start until 5,000 rpm and then flies round to 8,000 rpm. To be this anti-social you need to invade Kuwait, set fire to all the oil wells and laugh at cormorants drowning in the mess.

It's not all bad; the steering wheel angle is a vast improvement over the Miura, unfortunately being unassisted the ratio is so low that - especially at low speeds - it can catch you out. An armful of lock may not be enough when manoeuvering. Suspension is by double wishbones with coil-overs (twin at the rear). The ride is firm without undue discomfort and improves with speed. Roll and pitch are low and the chassis feels taut. Lamborghinis vary enormously even between the same model. The Coutach should out-handle a Miura but the individual set-up is what really separates a lion from a lemon. Condition of springs and dampers, how they are matched, roll bar and geometry adjustments are of paramount importance. Like a racing car, it is simply useless unless correctly sorted.

You cannot forget you are driving the Coutach LP400. Apart from assaulting all the senses, people flash their lights at you, point and wave. The machine is nothing short of outrageous. Coupled to this, you feel like a lion-tamer or rodeo rider trying to break a wild horse. Even a short drive leaves you exhausted. You only realise what stress you have been suffering when you stop and switch it off. The sense of relief is overwhelming - this car is awful and truly awesome at the same time.

Would I have one? After all this criticism, the answer, surprisingly, is yes. Yes, with reservations. It would have to be sorted. The throttle action would have to be improved as would the air-con ventilation system. The interior mirror would be relocated and proper exterior mirrors fitted. The motor needs an electronic ignition conversion to the two distributors to keep the plugs happy in traffic. Silencer improvements would enable you to use the power without bringing on unwanted attention, not to mention driver comfort.

The Countach lasted until the end of the 1980's with the "Anniversary" (celebrating 25 years of Lamborghini car production). The coming of the 1990's decade heralded the next generation of Supercar - the Diablo. Another Gandini creation but more user-friendly and less arrogant that the 1970's Countach. Love it or loathe it, you cannot ignore it. As a '70's art form, if nothing else, it beats Carl Andre's 1972 Tate Gallery pile of bricks. Now then, where are those platform shoes? Where is that darted shirt with the big patterns? How long will it take to grow those big sideburns?

We would like to thank Janet Fenna at Brooklands Museum for allowing us to photograph the Countach on their banking and Pullicino Classics for providing the car on behalf of its owner, David Thomas. This car won a 'Car of the Day' award at Auto Italia Brooklands 1997.

Text and photos courtesy of