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"It&amp;#039;s 1007 miles from factory in Maranello, Italy, to Goodwood&amp;#039;s Festival of Speed in the south of England and there are two basic ways to make the drive.   One is to boogie along autostradas, autoroutes and motorways. Quick, but boring.   Method number two uses only four-lane highways as temporary conduits between two-lane roads that rarely straighten, whether winding over treeless alpine passes with off-to-eternity drop-offs or through dense forests.   Luckily we were using method two, though initially it meant pounding along the autostrada, Modena-Alessandra-Aosta, the last third in heavy rain.   We were in a trio of Ferraris, a , a , and a lead car. I had the 458 initially, my first chance to learn the car.   It would be unfair to label 458 drivers as selfish, but they are the focus of the car. For the passenger it comes down to that old bumper sticker: Get In, Sit Down, Shut Up and Hang On. The passenger can adjust the temperature on that side and open or close the window and door. That&amp;#039;s it.   The driver is in Ferrari central, all gauges and readouts aimed his direction with no need to take hands from the steering wheel. On the right is an iDrive Jr. controlling infotainment. Another to the left scrolls through driving functions acting like an absentee race engineer, checking lap times and doling out information about how you and the car are performing. The view of the road rushing beneath seems so close you almost expect to find road rash on the seat of your pants.   Before leaving Maranello we were warned about the police and speeding. Stick to 130 km/h on motorways and abide by local speed limits. The threat? Radar, cameras and heavy fines. We&amp;#039;ve heard these warnings for years, but took them with a grain of salt because Europe used to be the home of &amp;quot;enjoy yourself, just don&amp;#039;t do anything stupid&amp;quot; driving. Now the EU has turned its cops into nannies, and the U.S. has become the place to enjoy driving...just don&amp;#039;t do anything stupid.   Now who sounds like a nanny?   Eventually we began to climb to the 8100-ft. Grand St. Bernard pass, up the Aosta Valley, passing a village that reminded us of Microsoft&amp;#039;s Vista and Apple&amp;#039;s G4 iPhone. Its name? Etroubles. I swear, it&amp;#039;s a real place.   Going up the serpentine road on the Italian side feels quite secure, two wide lanes with stout guardrails on the downhill side. Let the 458 have its head and you find it&amp;#039;s easy to get in synch with the Ferrari.   Heading down the Swiss side, I dialed back a bit. Few guardrails here, just a slide to never-never land if you screw up. Laissez faire.   Overnight in Meg\u00E8ve, France, and the next day I had the California. The rain was gone, we had warm sunshine and down came the retractable hardtop. We waded slowly through a few crowded cities where a Ferrari feels like a race horse in a schoolyard, but also rushed along two-lane roads through forests, coming across villages so quiet you wondered if Martians had vacuumed up the citizens. Our goal for day two was Troyes, France.   The character of the two Ferraris&amp;#039; interiors is quite different. Our California&amp;#039;s interior was a rich caramel and there&amp;#039;s something friendly about a +2 rear seat. At times the yellow rev counter just south of the driver&amp;#039;s line of sight reminds one of a smiley face. Unlike the 458, driver and passenger are on this drive together.   The first time it stopped, I realized the California now has automatic stop-start. Come to a halt in the Ferrari and the V-8 suddenly shuts down...like your heart stopped. Dead quiet. We&amp;#039;re used to stop-start in hybrids, an already quiet engine fading away, then whispering to life when you drive off. Not the California, which clears its throat with a deep ahem as you lift off the brake, pops to 1800 rpm, then settles at 1000. Cool.   During the afternoon of day three we merged off the two-lane roads onto the autoroute to deadhead to the Chunnel. A drive through our agricultural Midwest can be impressive for the amount of acreage, but here the art of fields charms you. It&amp;#039;s like a farmer/art director was in charge, alternating precise fields of gold and green, edging them with vineyards as you approach the Reims Champagne district.   Set the nav system for Thillois and it takes you to the hard right-hand corner at the end of the long straight on the old Reims racetrack. The remaining pits and stands of the circuit are spooky...so much racing here and years of Ferrari history, good and bad. Luigi Musso died here in a Grand Prix Ferrari in 1958 while running 2nd, and three years later Giancarlo Baghetti won in a Ferrari driving in his first-ever GP.   Makes you wonder how quickly the likes of Fangio, Phil Hill or Fernando Alonso could get around the original Reims circuit in a 458 or California versus the Formula 1 cars of the 1950s and 1960s.   Back on the autoroute, humming to Calais and the Chunnel train. Not a half hour in the amber glow of the tall train car and we drove the Ferraris onto an English motorway, reminding ourselves to now drive on the wrong side of the road.   Lord March has held his Goodwood Festival of Speed since 1993 and you might think it would have lost its luster. Wrong. Formula 1, supercars, motorcycles, vintage race cars all roaring up...but we&amp;#039;ll leave that side of the story to photos.   The only bad part was turning in the Ferraris. After our drive from Italy, it&amp;#039;s obvious the 458 Italia is one of the best road cars from Maranello in decades. Then again, over a very long distance, if we were driving L.A.\u2013N.Y.C., the California would be the one. 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<http://www.roadandtrack.com/car-culture/a16439/ferraris-to-goodwood/>