Portofino M to Riga
Two days in Riga, a red Ferrari Portofino M, EuroBasket weekend, and the best ribs I've had outside Spain. That was the brief. Here's how it went.
The car
Rosso Corsa Portofino M, which is the only colour that makes any sense on this thing. Front-mid 3.9L twin-turbo V8, 612 horses, eight-speed dual clutch, folding hardtop that drops in 14 seconds at up to 45 km/h. The hardtop bit is a pointless flex but I love that it exists. The "M" is the modificata upgrade — sharper Manettino, new Race mode, the kind of changes you don't notice in the brochure but you absolutely notice on the back roads of southern Estonia.
Honest take: it's a stupidly comfortable car. I was prepared for the touring-sportscar tax — backache, ear-ringing, "yeah but you can't daily it" — got none of it. Tallinn to Riga is roughly four hours each way and I got out at the hotel ready to do another two. Adaptive cruise on the E67, the V8 burbling under the cruise control, no drama. Flip the Manettino into Race and the same car turns into something noticeably angrier on the exit of every roundabout. That's the trick of this generation — it does both jobs without compromising either.
Fuel: 11.4 L/100km with a moderate right foot. Heavy right foot, more like 16. Either way the tank gets you there.
Making people's day
The unsung feature of any Ferrari is what it does to other people. Every fuel stop, every parking lot, kids appear out of the asphalt with phones. Older guys nod and pretend not to be impressed. Someone's wife sends them over to ask what year it is. House rule for the weekend was simple: anyone within ten meters holding a phone gets a rev. The blip from a V8 with the top down does not get old, and the look on a six-year-old's face is worth more than the depreciation. Give it a rev. Make their day.
Riga in 48 hours
Two days isn't enough but it's plenty for a road trip. Hotel right in the Old Town, parking out front. The parking bill for two nights cost the same as I pay for a month at home — which is either an outrage or a fair price for not having to walk anywhere with a Ferrari key in your pocket. I voted fair.
Riga Old Town does the job. Cobblestones, the House of the Blackheads, more cafés than reasons to use them, walkable end-to-end in 20 minutes. The point of a weekend break is that you don't need to plan it, and Riga rewards that.
EuroBasket
The actual reason we drove. Eurobasket at Arena Riga, decent crowd, Latvians take their basketball seriously and it shows. The kind of atmosphere where you stop checking your phone halfway through the first quarter and remember why people still pay to see sports live. Won't go into the score — go watch the highlights, then book a game in person somewhere. It's better.
Sidrabiņi Krogs — this is the point
If you take one thing away: Sidrabiņi Krogs. Twenty minutes outside the city, country-inn vibe, log-cabin energy, no English on the menu — which is fine. Order the ribs. Best ribs I have had outside Spain, easily, and I have a strong opinion on ribs. Smoky, falling off the bone, served with a bread that deserves its own paragraph and isn't going to get one. The sides are sides; the ribs are the event. Pay the bill, drive home, lose a few weekends to wishing you'd ordered another rack.
Verdict
Portofino M as a grand tourer: legit. As a road trip car: better than any sportscar has a right to be. As a head-turner: criminally effective. Riga as a weekend break: punches above its weight. Sidrabiņi Krogs: just go.
Would I do this exact weekend again? Tomorrow.
