The cabin is spacious, too. In penning the F22 from scratch (not one bolt is carried over from the D8 GTO, they say), Donkervoort built in an extra 80mm of cabin width and 100mm of length over the D8 GTO. It means passengers no longer have to suffer a narrower berth.
Denis says the F22 was “a gamble”. Being beefier than the D8 GTO, and with a Targa-style roof plus hard top for the boot, it’s more car-like than its forebears. It turns out owners were okay with this, so long as an underlying rawness was preserved.
Depress the clutch. It’s medium rare: hefty enough to convey a certain pedigree but not so much that it’d push you to the brink of madness in heavy traffic. The engine catches and, remarkably, might just be the least subtle thing about the circus that is the Donkervoort F22. Audi’s barrelchested throb suits this machine.
Now, to power assist or not? That is the question for owners. The F22’s front footprint is so colossal that your first thought is to wonder if someone put its boots on back to front. Duly, although castor trail has decreased compared with the D8 GTO (castor angle has increased to lift feedback and trim understeer), this car’s unassisted rack is beastly at low speeds and only when you really start to crack on does it truly unfurl.
Admittedly, at this point, it’s pretty wonderful: crisp, resolute, chatty. The brake pedal is equally muscular, but equally transparent. Gearshifting is a short, sturdy but very smooth affair. The F22 is a physical car with a feral charm.
