As I try to repass the cars ahead of me, I get a rude introduction to touring car racing, my competitors have no regard for my personal space

This is the story of a great weekend. It all started a couple of months ago when I got a call from evo chief test driver and fellow racer Karim Al-Azhari who asked if I wanted to do a round of the Chevrolet Lumina CSV championship. My facial expression barely changed until he went on to mention that is was the round that made up part of the Bahrain GP programme.

Let me explain just how much I love F1; I haven't missed a race in 10 years, I plan my life so that nothing clashes with a Formula One weekend. My obsession with the world's biggest sport is bordering on the unhealthy. Do I want to take part in an F1 weekend? For a smart guy, Karim asks a stupid question.

Until now, I hadn't given the Lumina CSV championship much thought. Compared to the Radical and Formula BMW series' I have been racing the last couple of years it all seemed pretty crude. This was a one-marque championship that splits its time between the Dubai Autodrome and the Bahrain International Circuit.

Other than the roll-cage, minor modifications to the suspension and upgraded brakes, the car is not massively different from the road going version, which evo has always rated highly in the bang for the buck department, but is not particularly suited to a race track. The 5.7-litre V8 is breathed on by HSV and now puts out 380bhp and 376lb ft of torque to the rear wheels. The Chevy weighs in at 1450kg, positively obese for a racing car.

If it wasn't enough to be taking part in an F1 support race, it looked like I would be doing it with a bunch of mates. Joining Karim and I this weekend would be colleague Blair Cole, fellow Radical racer Mohammed Al-Owais and first timer Nader Zuhour who frantically qualified for his National Race Licence just in time to take part this weekend. The five of us would be sharing an apartment with current championship leader and all around top bloke Tarek Al-Gamal. This was going to be one of those weekends. The banter began from the moment we met up in Dubai airport and didn't end until the weekend was over.

FRIDAY 13
The alarm on my mobile phone bursts into life at the ungodly hour of 6am. Our only practice session is at 8.45am and we could use all the track time we can get. This is going to be a steep learning curve. For most of us this will be our first time behind the wheel of the Lumina CSV and we're going to be racing guys that have had a whole season under their belt. Poor old Nader is even worse off, he's never even seen the track.

A half-hour drive down the highway and we are at the Sakhir circuit. We flash our driver passes to the army of security guards and pull into the parking lot reserved for the weekend's participants, unload our rented Mazda 6 and head for the pits. A tent? What do you mean our garage is a tent. F1 is supposed to be glamorous. That can't be right. As we make our way to the end of the Oasis grandstands we are all quite stunned that as the bottom billing this weekend, we are going to be stationed in a marquee with all 17 cars, drivers and mechanics crammed in. All the pit garages are filled up by F1, GP2 and the Porsche Supercup, leaving us outside looking in. Literally.

It's boiling hot, I'm soaked with sweat. I've just finished the 30 minute practice session and I climb out of my very sick sounding Lumina. There is steam coming from the engine bay and I am worried. On my last lap, while thundering down the main straight, I had over revved the engine shifting from 4th gear down to 3rd when I had intended to shift it up into 5th. Whoops! After a quick look my mechanic Neil (race engineer doesn't quite sound right in this environment) finds the problem. The pulley on the water pump had slipped its belt leaving my V8 without any cooling. He wasn't sure, but he thought that it would be OK for the rest of the weekend.

Catastrophe averted, I have a huge smile on my face. Despite having one of the worst gearboxes I have ever experienced, this car is a hoot to drive. The highlight is obviously the big V8. Hit the ignition switch and finger the start button and it bursts into life with a deep rumble that sounds exactly like a muscle car should. The cabin is filled with a throbbing vibration as the sound ricochets off the bare metal inside of the car. Ease the surprisingly light clutch out and feed in some power.

Keeping this hotrod straight is a huge challenge. The Lumina is not lacking in power, and has enough torque to pull a house. Get on the power a fraction too early on corner exit, though, and you have to apply an armful of opposite lock to keep it on the track. This car is a hooligan and considering that the Lumina is running on sticky Michelin Cup Sport semi-slick tyres there is very little grip through the corners and I quickly find myself asking too much of the car through the faster bends. Not a problem though as oversteer is easy to correct.

Despite being upgraded the suspension is laughably soft for a racecar. It leans and lunges comically as you try to change direction. Hit the brake as you arrive at a corner, the nose dives and the wheels lock easily. This is a problem as the servo-assisted stoppers have no ABS and almost no pedal feel. The only reason you know that you've locked a wheel is when smoke seeps into the cockpit through the wheel arches. Vibrations through the steering tell me that I have flatspotted a front tyre. This is going to be tricky, but at least I have three sets of rubber to ruin over the weekend. The fact that my tyre is no longer round is about the only feedback that I have through the vague steering. Turn into a corner and you have precious little information of what is going on with the front tyres, making it difficult to stop the heavy nose from understeering. If I intend to get some decent lap times out of the car, I will have to be silky smooth and resist the temptation to man-handle this friendly giant.

Saturday 14
It's another early start. This time for a 9.30am qualifying session that will determine our grid positions for this afternoon's race 1. Having had the whole night to reflect on where I could gain time, it was now time to go out and do it. Wedged into the bucket seat with my five-point safety harness digging into my chest, I make my way out on to the track. I spend the first lap weaving left and right, accelerating and decelerating in an attempt to get some temperature into my tyres and brakes.

Warm up lap completed, I now start to push the Lumina's heavy nose into the corners, wait until its nice and straight and hard on the power. I start to use a higher gear in almost every corner so as not to unsettle the car, letting the massive torque pull me through. I start to build a rhythm when on lap four arriving at turn 1, I can't resist trying to hit the anchors harder in a heroic attempt to brake later. Bad idea, I have a monumentally huge lock up, the cockpit fills with smoke and I now have what feels like a flat tyre. I nurse my car back round to the pits, every rotation of the wheel shaking the car violently. While my shredded front right tyre is being changed one of the mechanics leans into the car and informs me that I am currently P2 behind only Tarek. Nice!

Visions of pole position fill my head. I have six minutes left in the session and I start to push, forgetting everything I had told myself about being as gentle as possible. My remaining flying laps feature every mistake in the book and I return to the pits to find out I have dropped a couple of positions and will be starting the race from the second row of the grid.

I feel quite pleased with myself. I am behind only the two championship leaders and Karim, just 1.5sec off pole, which considering the limited amount of time I have had in the car is not exactly disgraceful. At least I have bragging rights over Blair, Mohammed and Nader who have qualified sixth, eighth and 13th respectively.

The hour-long F1 qualifying session ends with Ferrari driver Felipe Massa on pole with young Mclaren superstar Lewis Hamilton a fraction behind. I am very excited when I realise that I will be starting from the same grid box as my hero Fernando Alonso. The race is now an hour away and I am suddenly filled with an unexplainable anxiety.

Soon, though, we are strapped into the cars and making our way to the grid. There is a five-minute wait before we are waved away on our warm up lap. It feels like five days, nerves jangling, butterflies fill my stomach. The heat inside the cockpit doesn't exactly help.

Warm up lap completed, we are back on the grid, all eyes are trained on the familiar five starting lights. One by one they turn red, there is a wave of noise as all 17 V8s begin to rev in anticipation of the start. Lights out, drop the clutch, a bit too much wheel spin but I get a decent run down to the first corner. I momentarily consider diving down the inside of Karim who is just ahead of me, but think better of it. I emerge still in 4th place and for the rest of the first lap I am all over the back of the car in front of me, looking for a way past while defending my position from the car behind me.

This is amazing. I feel like an Australian V8 supercar driver. Next thing we know the yellow flags are out. Nader has had a big impact with the car in front of him, bringing out the safety car. His first ever race has lasted all of two corners. We are now behind the Mercedes CLK63 F1 safety car which is setting a blistering pace ahead of us. I am expecting him to slow down and bunch us up for the restart, but when he puts his lights out towards the end of the lap, I realise he has no such intention. I have been caught napping and lose about 30 metres on the car ahead of me. Karim suffers the same fate, leaving Tarek to streak off into the distance.

Just when I think things can't get any worse, I exit the last corner on to the long, main straight and miss a gear going from 2nd straight into 5th. The revs drop and I lose speed, allowing two cars to drive straight past and pull away from me. Screaming expletives into my helmet, I start to overdrive trying to make up lost ground. I arrive into a downhill left hander too quickly, the Chevy fishtailing wildly. Just as I get the car back under control I feel a big bang from behind. Series regular Tony Whitaker has hit my rear bumper. I am now facing the wrong direction and my car has stalled. I hold my breath as the pursuing pack swerve to either side of me.

I have now dropped to 12th and have a full on case of the red mist. What happens in the next five laps is a big blur. As I catch and try to repass the cars ahead of me, I get a rude introduction into touring car racing, as my competitors seem to have little regard for my personal space.

On one occasion the car ahead of me gets into a big tank slapper on the fastest corner on the track and cuts across my path sideways at well over 150kmh. I keep my foot planted to the accelerator, hold my breath and clench my butt cheeks. By some miracle I get through with millimetres to spare. As I regain my composure and prepare to brake for the next corner another car dives down the inside of me and hits me as I turn in. I catch the ensuing slide and we accelerate down the back straight side by side, next thing I know I am being squeezed towards the wall on the outside of the track. I lift off but manage to overtake at the next corner as my competitor gets out of shape. Accelerating on to the main straight, I am delighted to see the chequered flag. P10 is the rewards for my efforts.

Meanwhile, Tarek and Karim are up on the podium spraying the champagne, celebrating their respective 1st and 3rd places. Back at the apartment, I share my terrifying experiences with the rest of the guys, Nader and the butt of the jokes for the rest of the evening. Who needs enemies when you have friends like these...

Saturday 14
I've never been one to be intimidated, and have decided that if I can't beat them, I was going to join them. Obviously the driving etiquette in tin tops was very different from what I was used to in single seaters and sports cars. With this in mind, I was determined to make amends in race 2. From my P10 starting slot looking at the nine cars ahead of me I was going to have to work hard for it. The lights go out. I release the clutch more gently and get off the line cleanly.

Blair is struggling with a stubborn gearbox and I overtake him on the run down to turn 1. The field gets through the chaos of the opening turn without incident, and I have a good exit lining up the car in front. Pulling out of the slipstream, I lunge down the inside and with a clean move make up another position. Two corners later I am in P7 with a train of cars ahead. I am on the rampage and prepare for my next victim. As I get on the bumper of the car ahead I realise that it is Tony, my adversary from the first race, and I mentally rub my hands in glee as I have every intention of returning the favour.

After following him for a lap, I take my chance and brake as late as I dare, dive down the inside and now have the line to accelerate cleanly out. P6 is mine with the top five right in front of me, but my desire for revenge gets the best of me as I intentionally make contact pushing him off the track into the gravel. In my excitement at having achieved my objective, I get hard on the throttle as I exit the corner, not realising that my wheels are now on the slippery kerbs where traction is at a premium. This momentary lapse in concentration leads to a huge slide that puts me in the gravel trap right next to Tony, pebbles pinging off the under tray. I am now beached and going nowhere. Just like that I go from hero to zero and my race is over within three laps.

At least I have the F1 race to look forward to. I make it back to the pit tent just in time to watch the podium celebrations on the giant trackside screen. On the top step was Tarek putting in another faultless drive, with Mohamad taking 3rd place after a titanic battle with Karim.

Every time I look back on this weekend I can't help but smile. I was surprised how much fun it was racing the Chevy; like most American cars it was an unsophisticated driving experience, but was nonetheless a huge challenge to drive quickly and provided great entertainment in a very back to basics way. The racing experience was a mix of nerves, adrenalin, terror, disappointment and joy. Add that to fulfilling the dream of being part of an F1 weekend and sharing it with a great bunch of guys, and it will go down as a classic.