Boizano, in the spectacular Alpine scenery of Europe's Tyrol, is culturally quirky. Undeniably Italian, the city nevertheless straddles the A22, which runs north through the Brenner Pass into Austria. A historically disputed territory, years of bickering between Italy and Austria were finally resolved by a UN deal in the 1960s, which gave Italy overall control but granted the region a unique autonomy.
Most of the inhabitants are bilingual and e road signs are in Italian and German. Theoretically it's a dream scenario: Italian passion and devilment underpinned by Austro-German efficiency. The best of both worlds, in other words - assuming, that is, that the roles don't begin to get mixed up...
Maserati is chasing a similar fusion of talents in its new Gran Turismo. After an eight-year dalliance with Ferrari, Fiat is now in full control of Modena's other great sporting legend, and the gloves are off. The conquest of North America is firmly in its sights, and a return to profitability is being impatiently sought. After a prolonged game of musical chairs - which saw ex-Ford big-shot Martin Leach ousted in favour of ex-BMW big cheese Karl-Heinz Kalbfell, who in turn lasted about five minutes - new CEO Roberto Ronchi is hoping to hang on a bit longer. And he's talking tough.
"Maserati has to break even in 2007," he says. "We sold 5,700 cars in 2006, bur our goal in years to come is to sell 15,000 cars per year." Thumps table. "About 10 per cent of our employees are dedicated to quality. But we don't just measure it internally, and we're now much closer to our rivals in the JD Power survey."
Hang on a minute. 15,000 cars per year? JD Power? Quality? Is this the same Maserati that sold precisely zero cars in the UK in 1996, and has long been a by-word for a slightly barmy automotive flamboyance?
Indeed it is. And the back-story is crucial, if we are to get a proper handle on the new Gran Turismo, because this is a new sort of Maserati. Company personnel use words like ‘smooth ’and 'non-sportivo’ to describe It. Even the C word crops up regularly: comfort. It’s all a bit of worrying.
Technically the Gran Turismo two pretty much a Quattro coupe. It uses the same steel platform, although its wheelbase is 125mm and the rear overhang has been trimmed by 66mm. With two fewer door apertures to about, it's also much more rigid - 30 percent in fact - but not a lot lighter. Pushing two tones is just about acceptable in a four-door but the Gran Turismo's sporting credentials are somewhat dented by its 1,880kg kerb weight.
And that's not all. Having zealously promoted the controversial paddle-shift manual (variously known as Cambiocorsa or Duo-Select, depending on model), Maserati is now apparently keener top the virtues of its ZF-sourced six-speed automatic. This same transmission has recently the exquisite Quattroporte; in the GT, it's a four-mode system which features a ‘sport’ option that permits shifts at higher engine and sharpens throttle response. Pseudo manual changes can be done either by way of column-mounted paddles or by nudging the ever left. Whatever way you slice it, it's school auto. 'Non-sportivo', as they say, especially for a racy new Maserati coupe.
Styling? It's always a subjective issue, but never more so than here. "We didn't want to create a B-Version Ferrari," Ronchi claims, and the Gran Turismo is mostly eye-popping. Highlights include the concave snout, swollen front and rear wheel arches and the curved sills which give the car a waisted, pinched look. Jason Castriota, chief exterior designer at Pininfarina, cites the Birdcage and 450S cars as inspiration, but you can’t look at the Gran Tursimo without thinking of classic Italian screen siren.
GT needs the bigger polished 20in wheels to properly fill those curvy arches (they're a pricey alloys are a huge £3,079, or Rs 2.5Iakh). A qualified success, then.
We leave Bolzano on the Brenner Pass, and head into the Dolomites. By any reckoning, this is an area that justifies the rather archaic notion of Grand Touring. At least Maserati has form: in the days before Ryanair, the European jet set would point their Mistrals and Ghiblis towards the mountains in search of a good time - driving in the summer, skiing in the winter. It's two parts Bond movie, one part Pink Panther farce. Moore, Sellers, Niven and Cardinale all falling over each other.
There are 40 glaciers up here, but today every one of them is obscured by great road- trains of tourist traffic. Sipping 'cocktails on a terrace in Cortina d'Ampezzo is one thing; picking your way past the German equivalent of National Lampoon's Griswold family in their RV quite another. At one point, we join a huge coach, half a dozen bikers, 30-odd cyclists, the Swiss Family Robinson and the entire cast of The Sound of Music in a bold group attempt to round a precipitous corner simultaneously.
Clearly, this is no place to test a new sporting GT. Traffic aside, many of these mountain passes are so narrow that they cruelly expose the Maserati's considerable girth. Nimbleness is a virtue in most scenarios; but up here, it's a necessity. And the GranTurismo simply isn't nimble enough.
That's not the only grumble. The brakes Brembos measuring 330mm x 32mm at the front, 330mm x 28 at the rear and grabbed by four-piston calipers - are adequate at best. That
4.2-litre V8 is lovely, and 400bhp - at a fairly 100rpm - sounds ample. But there's a curious lack of urgency about the way it goes about its business, and it lacks grunt. A Maserati is a car you should hustle; the Gran Turismo is a bit too relaxed for that. A 0-100kph time of 5.2 seconds only tells half the story.
Dynamically, though, it's very accomplished. Our car is fitted with 19in wheels, and its ride quality and general behaviour are exemplary ('Skyhook' adaptive damping is an option, but it feels fine without it). Settle into a groove, and the sensations quickly begin to mirror the ones you'd experience in a BMW 6-Series or Merc SL rather than a high-maintenance Italian – slick, smooth, unruffled. The auto is superb, though best left in 'normal' mode. Apparently it learns your driving style in its 'sport' setting, but it never gets the hang of mine and proves to be predictably unpredictable.
Compared to the previous Coupe - a car which had a pathological objection to travelling in a straight line - the Gran Turismo generates huge grip. Oversteer is not easily provoked, at least not on a dry road. Good steering too: probably a little over-assisted for some tastes, but responsive, linear and accurate.
It's also a lovely place to sit and spend time in. The driving position is perfect, the architecture of the cabin solid rather than inspiring, the build quality impressive. The multi-media screen has more modern graphics than the Quattroporte's system, and is a doddle to work (much easier, in fact, than BMW's i-Drive or Merc's COMAND interfaces). In terms of ease-of-use, this is an Italian sports car denuded of all the irritations that often used to blight Italian sports cars.
But some of the soul has gone too. The Gran Turismo is a very good car indeed, but and I can't believe I'm writing these words it's not a hugely exciting one. It's probably what Maserati needed to do to re-establish itself as a genuinely credible player in a market dominated by some of the most credible players of all. And who can blame it? If dialling back on the passion and boosting the quality secures the future of one of the world's great automotive names, then so be it. But there's a faster, lighter, more focused car lurking within the Gran Turismo, due to be unveiled soon.
Roll on the real Maserati ...