Does anyone here have the foggiest idea what we've just let ourselves in for?

If you shy away from articles that start off with the day, date, time and attributes relating to insignificant elements such as the weather, and what that particular author was wearing that exact moment in time, I apologise in advance. For the time was in fact 10.45am on a Monday (the 23rd of June so it happens) with a South Easterly hit of 47-degrees and a humidity of 26 per cent. The day, by all accounts, was clear with good visibility at 16 kilometres. And as for me, so it happens, I was wearing a pair of blue jeans, a red Nike t-shirt and a brown fedora hat.
I sympathise, truly I do, as I am not entirely the world's number one subscriber to articles that begin so emphatically either, but in the case of the Caparo T1 I trust you'll extend the courtesy of forgiveness and patience, as every millisecond of a day such as this has to be documented in fear of genuinely missing something insanely important out of the remarkably exclusive moment.

Watching the GulfSport Racing transporter roll along the service road that morning, up to the pit garages where we are all sat, was eerie. The Renault truck could have been filled full of nothing more than bubblewrap, as far as most people were concerned, but we knew damn well what was harnessed down inside. And it was the knowing that got the goosebumps slip sliding up and down the arms and all the way around to the nape of the neck.

The usual conduct at any given evo photoshoot is (I must admit) that of schoolboy humour and mindless pranks. There is usually a lot of junk food and beverages on hand too - and just as much time is spent ribbing anyone present about anything and everything for a giggle, than the nitty gritty of road testing. Today was not one of those days. The usual suspects were on hand today, but the stern task in hand had brought out a rather stern demeanour among the team. Even evo contributor Luca Cima was tight-lipped, and incredibly sensitive to the seriousness that was duly required. It is time again to apologise for the inane level of detail I am subjecting you to, but may I just say that watching the cargo hold of the car transporter swing open wide to bestow the sight of two manic man-eaters on wheels (one wild orange, the other white) could only be bettered I guess by a drawn-out tiebreaker between Sania Mirza and Maria Sharapova, nude. But only just.

The inner child was desperately trying to break free, with an urge to impersonate a Harrier Fighter Jump Jet as the loading bay lowered the fully-loaded, fully running and frigging scary looking 75.1 inch wide T1 to ground zero. I thankfully contained myself. Nervous jokes of where you'd mount the numberplates and a baby seat would fall on deaf ears today, anyway, as the awe booms around the pit garage. Bloody hell, does anyone here have the foggiest idea what we've just let ourselves in for? Thing is we didn't have to badger or blag anyone to get this gig, as a matter of fact the exact opposite.

The agent for this remarkable machine is GulfSport Racing, in Dubai, who sell everything worth having motorsport wise, as well as marketing and maintaining Radical race cars, and Bassam Kronfli happens to be one of their best customers. Bassam (for those of you have been living under the same rock as me for the last year or so) is also a force to be reckoned with on the race track once he's strapped into his carbonfibre Radical SR3, so in a nutshell Mr. Kronfli couldn't be better qualified to drive the T1 if he tried. Oh and he is the Motoring Editor of our humble magazine, which helped a little I think.

I know for a fact - qualified or not - Bassam was beginning to feel the weight of the test on the big day though. I was sweating marrows and I was only here as a spectator. And making random comments about the Caparo being just a road car didn't do a cat's whisker to calm the atmosphere, or settle Bassam's nerves either. After all, there are road cars that have an appearance of a race car. And then there's a smattering of race cars that can just about get by on the public highways. This thing, well this thing is completely and utterly bonkers. Bonkers as a sketch, bonkers once built and bonkers now sat parked surrounded by a circle of flashing camera phones in one of the air-conditioned pit garages of the Dubai Autodrome.

You'd have to be bonkers to even take up the suggestion that the T1 could and can be used on the open road. No doubt, this is a race car that even racing car drivers need to respect, with its mind-boggling 1075bhp per tonne; the highest power-to-weight ratio of any road-legal car to date, achieved by advanced carbon composites and - of course - 575bhp. The last of the long line of La La Land figures comes courtesy of a 3.5-litre Menard-designed V8 bolted directly to the carbon tub encased in an aerospace grade steel tubular spaceframe at the rear, a unit that was initially intended for Indy car racing. Once the bench project was concluded, so the story goes, the V8 was left redundant - so up stepped Caparo after recognizing the engine's capabilities, later calibrating the horsepower figure at 10,500 rpm, along with 310lb ft of torque at 9000rpm.

Bolt this into an ultra lightweight carbon and aluminium honeycomb monocoque and you're rewarded with a 0-to-100kph time of just 2.5 seconds, the same standstill but this time to 160kph in 5 seconds, which is faster than a base jumper in free-fall, so say's the T1 brochure. Not that Bassam would know anything about that, fearing the first rung of a stepladder for goodness sake. But he doesn't seem not too bothered about belting up in a hand-built fire-breathing rear-wheel drive F1 car (or more accurately a GP2 car) for the road, a car that happens to be built by a company specializing in composites and not (as it goes) cars, generally speaking. Crazy I tell you.

Crazier still is that the T1's aero package generates enough downforce under high-speed cornering and braking to register 3.5g. For the record that is the level of force aerobatic pilots experience. I mention this because pilots undergo rigorous training, treat their bodies as a temple and live off health itself. Bassam - today's figurative aerobatic pilot - loves shawarma, cheese and chive crisps and the speed dial button for 800-PIZZA. What's more, the man only gets four hours of sleep a night at best and struggles to walk any great distance. This could be disastrous. But thankfully there is a separate impact-absorbing carbon composite structure attached to the front of the monocque, if the worst becomes us today. It is a tad dusty out on the track this fine Monday, after all.

So while Bassam pops to the loo, to change into his superman outfit, gloves and helmet, I pop my head into the narrow cabin again - eyeing up the cockpit-adjustable brake bias and subtly checking the expiry dates of the six-point harnesses lacing their way through the narrow two-passenger cockpit - to note exactly where my Motoring Editor's last days on planet earth might be spent. I however would not be spending any time in the T1 this day (not even as a passenger) and as dictated by the War & Peace contract Bassam had to sign before being allowed to press the big brave starter button.

I have however read oodles of reports on the Caparo T1, watched an equal measure of reviews online too and the one thing everyone agrees on is the manner in which you have to juggle 575bhp and 310lb ft of torque off the line without embarrassment, or need for fresh rubber. By the looks of it Bassam has done his homework too, as he raises the counter to somewhere above 3000rpm. I am only able to unclench my fists once he makes a clean exit and is barking his way down the pit lane towards the track, away from the many eyes that have been glued to the glaringly flat matt orange supersonic hyper car from the second it arrived. It is now just Bassam and the T1, and as good a time as any to have a serious dig at the 2.6 kilometre Club circuit evo track record held by Bassam himself, in his carbon Radical. I guess all that there is left to say now, is take it away Mr. Motoring EditorÉ and God speed.

Jon Saxon

I am an adrenaline junkie with very few outlets for my addiction. Let me explain. You see, I unfortunately have an inordinate fear of heights, which regretfully limits my options for adventure. Skydiving? Completely out of the question! Bungee jumping? Forget it! Cliff diving? No way! This means I have to get my kicks much closer to the ground. Lucky for me I work for evo Middle East then, as the job gives me a four-wheeled fix for my habit on an almost weekly basis. Until now though, none of them have threatened to stop my heart. Enter the Caparo T1. In the first part of this feature Jon has set the scene for you on how it became that I would be one of only a handful (literally) of people in the world - and the only one in the Middle East - to get behind the wheel of the fearsome Caparo T1. I am now going to attempt to paint as clear a picture for you of an experience that has been very difficult to put into words. Unfortunately there are few superlatives that can accurately reflect the Caparo T1, but I'm going to try anyway.

I have known for the better part of a month now that I would be driving the Caparo T1, and after the initial smiles and celebrations upon learning of the great news I have done my best to put the impending date out of my mind. Mostly I have succeeded in not giving it too much thought. Part of the reason I had managed to remain relatively blasŽ about the Caparo, was due to my extensive experience with big power cars. I have also spent a lot of time behind the wheel of various racing cars, including my Radical SR3 1500 which I have successfully campaigned for the best part of three years now. My familiarity with these sorts of cars was the main reason I had got the gig to drive the T1 in the first place. While I was sure that it would be an exhilarating experience (the headline facts and figures pretty much guarantee that) I was confident that I was up to the task.

Fast forward to the night before my date with the T1 and I am sat at home in front of my lap top watching various videos of the Caparo on you-tube, purely for research purposes of course. The on screen footage quickly reminds me of why the T1 had formed such a fearsome reputation. It is no secret that the T1 has had a complicated birth. Despite being touted as the world's fastest accelerating road legal car, it was in the headlines for all the wrong reasons with a series of high profile problems (evo-me 06) overshadowing what was meant to be the arrival of the spiritual successor to the McLaren F1. I power down the computer and head to bed where I lay awake for the next few hours staring at the ceiling deep in apprehensive thought before I eventually drift off to dreams of racing cars and oversteer.

The next day I arrive at the Dubai Autodrome pit garage number 1a where I am greeted by the sight of not one but two stunning Caparo T1s, the orange example that I would be piloting today as well as a white T1, which is devoid of engine and gear box and is being used for display purposes only. The first thing that strikes me is how long and wide the car is in the flesh. I wouldn't call it a beautiful car, quite the contrary actually, but it is captivating to look at. The T1 has a purposeful, brooding air about it and looks like it could be the illegitimate love child of a praying mantis and a hammerhead shark. The GulfSport Racing mechanics are hard at work putting the final touches on the car in anticipation of its first time on track. In conversation I am told that the car I am about to drive is chassis 001 and belongs to Caparo CEO and part-time Dubai resident Angad Paul. As I start to don my fireproof racing gear it starts to dawn on me what a special occasion this is, as a herd of butterflies flap around in my stomach. By now a small crowd had gathered, including the entire evo team, to watch the Caparo in action for the first time on Middle East soil. As I pull on my Arai helmet, I can hear evo contributor and my good mate Luca Cima taking bets on my stalling or spinning on my first lap. What are friends for!

To climb aboard you need simply to vault up and then down into the cockpit, just like you do in any single seater racing car. Except, of course, to the left and slight aft of the main driver's seat there's also a second seat in the T1 which, in theory, can be occupied by a terrified passenger. The driving position is also just like that of a single-seater in that I am almost flat on my back, my feet are stretched way out in front of me, above my backside, and my arms are out-stretched to reach the wheel. The first thing that strikes me is just how comfortable it is. Despite the ultra snug fit, the finishing of the interior is top notch with the inside of the carbon tub lined in sumptuous stitched leather. In front of me the tiny, rectangular carbon fibre steering contains a display with all vital information, as well as the F1-style paddle shifters. Pull the left paddle on the tiny steering column to make sure you're in neutral. Thumb the starter button and squeeze the throttle hard. The Menard-made 3.5-litre V8 bursts into life, sending vibrations through my entire upper torso. Blip the throttle, and it sounds like you have unleashed the four horsemen of the apocalypse, and they are all carrying chainsaws. The noise is pure race car. Dip the firm but not overly heavy clutch, pull the right paddle and first gear engages with a metallic clunk. I raise the revs to around 3000 rpm and slip the clutch and next thing I know I am trundling down the pit line. Out on track, I weave left and right in an attempt to put some heat into the Dunlop racing slicks. The T1 darts from side to side with an incredible precision. The steering feels direct and extremely physical. I continue to show restraint through the first lap as I familiarize with my surroundings. The track looks treacherous and is caked with dust and sand, remnants of the dust storm that had hit Dubai the previous week. Exiting the final corner of the Club circuit and onto the main straight I nail the throttle in second gear. What happens next is a truly life altering experience, as the Caparo leaps forward with an unnatural ferocity. The air leaves my lungs as my entire body is viciously sucked to the thinly padded seat. I feel a numbing pressure pushing my flesh against my bones. Amazingly the pulverizing force ramps up as the V8 climbs towards its 10,500rpm limit, unleashing all of its 575bhp. Pull the right paddle again and third gear slams home in the blink of an eye (30 milliseconds to be exact) and the speed continues to pile on unrelentingly. I feel like I am in a time machine as the scenery blurs around me. This car accelerates like nothing else. Forget your Enzo's and Carerra GT's, this is more comparable to a space shuttle than any car. It isn't just in another league, it's on another planet. My initial reaction is a mix of euphoria and terror as I hurtle towards turn 1, I hit the brakes much earlier than I normally would and stop short and almost coast through the corner. The plan is for me to do five laps to get a feel for the car and head back to the pits for it to be checked over, as this is essentially its first hot weather test. Considering the temperature is over 40-degrees it's better to be safe than sorry. The remaining laps are spent building up my confidence on the dusty track and trying to recalibrate my brain to the speed things happen at in this extraordinary car. I park the car and climb out while the Gulf Sport mechanics check all the vitals. Everyone gathers around to see what I have to say. All I can utter is a couple of choice expletives that best express the violence I have just endured.

Ten minutes later I am back in the car with strict instructions to keep an eye on the water temperature, which had been gradually creeping up. Back out on track I start to up the pace braking later and carrying more speed into the corners. This is when I find the first and only negative aspect of the T1: the brakes. They are very difficult to modulate, not helped by the slippery track surface. Brake gently and not much happens but as you apply more pressure the brakes lock which leads to lots of understeer as you attempt to trail brake towards the apex. It almost feels like an invisible giant hand is pushing the nose of the car off course. Once the front tyres have found grip the speed you can maintain through the corners is staggering. Body roll is non-existent as the g forces pin me helplessly to the side of the bolstered seat, I struggle to point the car away from the apex towards the exit. Getting on the power on exit is a very gradual affair as even the slightest overexertion swings the tail out, which requires an ultra quick stab of opposite lock. The need for caution with the throttle becomes all the more obvious after I have a couple of spins due to over ambitious throttle application. Slowly but surely though, I feel I am getting a hang of the T1 as I acclimatize to it's insanely high capabilities, but before I know it the pit board is out signalling the end of my day, having completed another 10 unforgettable laps.

Back in the pits again the data confirms the incredible performance of the Caparo. In the handful of laps that I completed I have shattered the outright Club circuit record lapping in an unbelievable 56.4 seconds with a top speed of 276kph at the end of the 1 kilometre main straight. With more time in the car and a cleaner track I think I could take at least another five seconds off that time. To realize how monumental that lap time is, take a look at our timing chart. To think that this car is road legal makes the achievement even more incredible, although you would have to be a complete maniac to drive the T1 on the road. I don't think that is the point of this car though, as it is with out a doubt the ultimate track day car, with a level of performance similar to that of a GP2 car. This is a day that I will not be forgetting any time soon, the pulverizing acceleration and cornering of the Caparo will remain etched in my brain forever.

Bassam Kronfli

Engine: V8
Location: Mid, longitudinal
Displacement: 3496cc
Bore x stroke: 93 x 64.3mm
Cylinder block: Aluminium alloy, dry sumped
Cylinder head: Aluminium alloy, dohc per bank,4v per cylinder
Fuel and ignition: Electronic engine management sequential fuel injection
Max power: 570bhp @ 10,500rpm
Max torque: 310lb ft @ 9000rpm
Transmission: Six-speed sequential gearbox,, rear- wheel drive, traction control, launch control Front suspension: Double wishbones, inboard pushrod- operated springs/damper units, arb
Rear suspension: Double wishbones, coil springs, adaptive dampers, anti-roll bar
Brakes: Vented floating discs, 335mm front and rear
Wheels: 10 x 18in front 11 x 18in rear
Tyres: 225/35 R18 front, 305/30 R18 rear, Dunlop slicks
Weight (kerb): 550kg (dry weight)
Power-to-weight: 1075bhp/ton 0-100kph 2.5sec (less with suitable tyre setup)
Top speed: 329kph (low downforce setup)
Basic price: £210,000 (est $ 414,400)
On sale: Now
Contacts: www.gulf-sport.com
Evo Rating: *****