Today, with the sun shining brightly and hundreds of crazed Italians in a bicycle race riding by Ferrari headquarters, several very rich people sought to own some of Italy’s most famous automobiles, assorted memorabilia, and ephemera. The event was held by Sotheby’s/RM Auctions.

As this is being written at 10:40 p.m., Italian time, final sales results are still being calculated, but at last count the sale generated a very nice €32 to €35 million ($43 million to $47 million). The new record for a Ferrari was set toward the end of the event, when an anonymous telephone bidder dropped the collective jaw of the four hundred-plus in attendance with an announced bid of €6.250 million ($8.43 million) plus 10 percent commission. All in, it will be a $9-point-something-million-dollar sale.

Descriptive copy in the auction catalog, Ferrari Leggenda E Passione (”Legends and Passion”), for lot 221, read, “The 1962 Ferrari 330 TRI/LM Testa Rosa Spyder is the last of the most famous Ferraris. Testa Rosas won Le Mans, arguably the most fa-mous automobile race, in 1958, 1960, 1961, and 1962. A record that has never been broken.”

Art auctions in New York last week pulled down eight-figure numbers and also set a record for a Warhol car wreck, but these are the quiet passions of the sedate and introspective art collectors. Their sales are refined and often hushed.

Automobile auctions are not for the faint of heart or timid—car people are loud, passionate, often boisterous, and demonstrative car lovers, especially when it comes to Ferrari. They expressed their Type-A appreciation as the white-jacketed British auctioneer announced, “For the thirrrrrd and last time, ladies and gentlemen…at six million, two hundred fifty-thousand euroooos…SOLD!” Instantly, the audience was on its feet, clap-ping, cheering, whistling, and shouting. That’s how car lovers show their feelings. Yeah!

Earlier in the afternoon, lot 213, a beautiful and bright yellow 1971 Ferrari 365 GTS4 Daytona Spider, began a slow charge at €250,000 ($337,275) until it was hammered down at €1.045 million including the 10 percent vigorish ($1.4 million). Ah, but as Paul Harvey might sonorously intone, “Here’s the rest of the story.”

The owner of the 1971 Daytona Spider was a 1948 Grosse Pointe Ford, Edsel Ford II, to be specific. When I spoke to him at Saturday night’s reception and mentioned how great the car looked, Ford commented, “It is a nice car, I’ve just gotten a little tired of driving it.” Prior to the auction of his car, Mr. Ford, wearing a white shirt with its sleeves rolled up, was introduced to a round of applause from the audience. Car people are like that. They appreciate other good car people.

The scene itself was interesting for looking at cars and the people who were in attendance. From the emerging rich—according to a luxury summit I attended last month, it takes $5 million to be considered a millionaire—to the very, very, very rich, everyone was in a nice mood. The men from Europe, North and South America, and Asia were casually dressed for the most part, some wearing suits. The women were al-most universally well dressed but casual, and wore lots of bling-bling diamonds on their fingers, in their ears, and on their wrists. Sunglasses on top of the head and high-heel shoes of almost stratospheric heights were de rigueur.

A couple sitting near me dropped a couple hundred grand in euros with the purchase of ephemera—letters, a poster, an autographed card, and an owner’s manual. The man sitting a couple places down bought a lot of Ferrari parts. While the venue was packed with photographers, pictures were not to be taken of the bidders to protect their identities.
Anything with the moniker of Ferrari great Michael Schumacher fetched amazingly high prices: a T-shirt the driver once wore brought €500 ($675); a rain jacket, €2250 ($3035); underwear (worn under his racing suit), €550 ($742). A cashmere sweater sold for €1500 ($2024).

The RM and Sotheby teams were not raucous; if anything, they were refined. Was there urging to go higher? Of course, as this was an auction. But it was done with hand gestures, head nods, subdued demeanor, and smiles—not with screams, shouts, or spectacle. One gentleman described every auction lot in English and Italian, while the actual auctioneer offered amusing little comments to urge the crowd on, “We are selling this today…you know.”

An RM Auction representative told me, “Based on what occurred today, the great cooperation from Ferrari, and of course the large attendance, we hope to hold another Ferrari auction next year in Maranello.” He even pronounced his words like an Italian, rolling his r’s softly and lovingly.
If you’ve got a few thousand air travel bonus miles just waiting for some nice event, occasion, or vacation, don’t spend ’em on Disney’s whatever, come to Maranello, Italy. It’s the venerated venue of Ferrari and the color red is everywhere. From the cars to the mile-long bed of roses en route to the track to the neckties worn by some, hell, even the little plastic espresso cups on hand were red.

And while the prices at auction may send you into sticker shock, everything else is—given currency fluctuations—reasonably priced, including nearby hotels and real Italian food and beer. Honest. And while you’re car gazing, not too far away is a mall of some other famous and expensive Italian brand names—Gucci, Prada, Ferragamo—trust me, she’ll know.

As they say in Italy, “Ringraziamenti per lettura. Buon vicino da Maranello.” Thanks for reading. Good-bye from Maranello.