What on earth did they think we were going to do, drown?

It is not unheard of for it to rain in the Middle East, indeed, but the latest downpour in Dubai was one of the worst to date, leaving in its wake abandoned cars, chaos and a sizeable amount of damage.

Forecasters may have been able to predict the heavy rain, even total chaos on the roads, but little did anyone know the show would simply go on for evo Middle East. Soldiering on while other publications told their staff to stay at home, evo embarked on an arduous drive to the Dubai Autodrome armed with two oars and some snorkelling gear, to lap time an Audi RS4!

But, like many of the main roads it was flooded - up to its nostrils in water - closed until further notice. The main entrance tunnel was deeper than the English Channel, the pit lane had become a tranquil pond and the only dry spot of tarmac to be found was the far left-hand side of the pit straight and the infamous Club Link all the way up until Turn 16. But did this dampen our spirits, oh no.

Taking a daring detour off the road on to the track, we were met by six safety cars and twice as many marshals. What on earth did they think we were going to do, drown? The safety implements, however OTT they first appeared were with just cause, as no exaggeration was at play that day. The phone call earlier that morning was fraught with concern and confusion, but there was no drama queen waiting at the circuit. A wash of dirty brown water, mostly an overflow of sewage, was lapping against the crash barriers keeping track cones afloat. And there was little in the way of smiles being thrown around by the management who seemed a tad misinformed as to what exactly we were doing there, in swimming trunks.

The challenge we had set ourselves was simple: We had to get as close as we could to the slowest dry lap time we had recorded in 2007, around the 2.6 kilometre Club Circuit (which happened to be a not too shabby 1 min 28 in the first generation BMW Mini) by means of three modes of transport. For the first stint of the challenge we armed ourselves with an Audi RS4, which the Autodrome use as a medical car on race days - how fitting. If we were to get around the Club Circuit in haste, on a very damp dark rainy day, we needed all the help we could find - and for that we couldn't go wrong with quattro power.

While mode of transport number one (driven by yours truly: Jon 'Shallow' Saxon) lined up, the continuing storm was playing more tricks on the road-users of Dubai. I turned on the radio in the RS4 (oh I really did pull the short straw when I bagged the Audi as my mode of transport to conquer the Autodrome in today) as the news presenter suggests that more than 500 accidents had been reported as motorists - clearly not used to a level of water - endeavoured to motor on against the tide of rain. Very few won their battle against the weather, mostly out of inexperience, with some stupidity thrown in for good measure here and there. Others however simply had no idea that cars don't run on water, won't float like a boat and, no matter how much you believe it wont, will actually aqua plane for Uganda when the front tyres hit standing water deep enough to drown the Burj Dubai at 120kph.

The constant image of fatal road incidents is no new thing in this region, and no less a pretty sight by adding an incessant downpour and a lack of wet weather awareness I can assure you. It may only rain a few days throughout a whole year of fierce sunshine, but when it comes you really do need to have your wits about you. Not everyone can afford a quattro, admittedly, but this automobile is the perfect antidote for anxious weather conditions. So, as fishermen sat at home twiddling their thumbs while school children glued themselves to day-time TV, evo braved the bracing wind, buckets of rain and the occasional strike of lightening, surrounded by safety officials, to demonstrate how to drive around the Club Circuit safely, whilst looking silly.

Accelerating off from the bottom of Club Link - the rear 19inch tyres submersed in rising water and water lapping at the 324mm vented brakes - it felt like any other dry time (and boy what a sound the 4.2-litre V8 RS4 makes, I really had forgotten) as we spectacularly negotiated the first turn onto the pit straight - on the left-hand side of course. Thundering down to Turn one in silly conditions clocking 200kph (which is achieved from rest in 16.6 seconds) before braking, was a tribute to the all-wheel drive Ingolstadt running gear.
Waiting on the apex of Turn two, where the water deepened to a depth of five foot, we had a Yamaha jet ski waiting and jet skier Jan 'Very Wet' Vanmeerbeek eager to get going. Catching the front tyres on the lip of Lake Placid, I then threw on some flippers and waded into the freezing shallows to hand over the transponder baton to Jan and his Yamaha.

It was a bizarre sight, seeing a jet ski bounding over the water's surface, creating massive waves that hit the shoreline of Turn two's apex with vim and vigour, where I was standing knowing that the upshot of the triathlon time was out of my hands, as Jan crashed and dived over the waves. But his stint with the red transponder baton (used to pin point our time) was short-lived. The deep swallows of water really had made a lake of the Autodrome, but a pre-challenge dry run (so to speak) threw up a few issues with Turn 17 for the jet ski. Easing into the 90-degree left-hander proved problematic with the deadly pass littered with shallow spots, territory clearly unfit for our jet ski to navigate safely. The fear of running aground, or worse still damaging the underside of the jet ski, Jan decided to abort his assault at the approach to Turn 17. It is here that James 'Blown' Burnett would take over, armed to the teeth in sophisticated $ 10 scuba gear and a borrowed inflatable sun lounger, fired up to take on the penultimate sprint to the finish line.

Both Jan and I had little in the way of issues, with the only discomfort perhaps in the shape of my tight nose clip, while Jan had to live with the pain of knowing he had to go back to work after playing in the artificial river. I may have had to wear not much more than a pair of horse-print pants and a glorified shower cap, but I had at least a door I could close, 1650kg of car around me, a heater that worked very well, windscreen wipers so I could see where I was going and 414bhp to help me get there very quickly. Unfortunately for James he had to wade into the wash, fully submersed at times, showering himself with unsavoury water as management watched on in disbelief. 'If he knew what was in there he wouldn't be swimming in it,' they said.

But it was too late, as 'Blown' Burnett danced his inflatable lilo over the apex lifting the right-hand side lip of his inflatable a touch longer than most would have braved, which swept James and his air-filled lounger across to the left positioning him perfectly for Turn 18. He'd set up the corner with impeccable finesse allowing himself to lean on all the power he could summon for the flat-out straight before the Club Link. The corner exit of this turn is slippery in the dry, so care was needed to avoid spinning!

I'd turned back on myself in the RS4 and drove the Club Circuit in reverse to greet James with words of motivation. But the demanding slog of the Club Link approach was evidently taking its toll on James, as he made a big splash but very little progress. 'Don't lift' I shouted. And he didn't, giving it all he could until at long last he landed a shaky hand on dry land, totally exhausted, giving the evo triathlon team a monumental time of 3 minutes 25 seconds, a nudge under 2 minutes slower than the time we noted in the supercharged Mini on a very dry day. The celebrations were short-lived though, later learning that the showers at the Autodrome were out of order. Stone cold, shivering and smelling of someone's sediment we sat in the RS4 sharing a beach towel quietly proud of our achievement. Ok we hadn't got anywhere near the dry lap time of the Mini, but hell it was better than being stuck on Sheikh Zayed road watching yet another dozy driver rear-end another, as our windscreen wipers screech agonisingly across the screen for the 50 millionth time.

'I had windscreen wipers so I could see where I was going and 414bhp to help me get there very quickly'