I woke up this morning, the day after my first ever Radical race and had a feeling not dissimilar to when I was 17 years old and spent the night with a woman seven years my senior. This time, though, I had spent my first night with an incredible car and all I seemed able to do was daydream about it. Racing a Radical SR3 is capable of producing extreme feelings in a man like me, crazy about motorsport, mad about engines and addicted to driving. This is the story of a special weekend.

My love affair with the Radical began in 2004 when Barry Hope and Andrew Lemon of Gulf Sport - the Gulf Radical Cup organisers - invited me to test drive the Radical SR3 on the F1 circuit in Bahrain. In the right hands, the SR3 can lap in the same time as a current Formula 3 car. And, unlike a formula car, has a passenger seat. Gulf Sport test driver Martin Hope would take me for a few laps around the then newly built circuit, driving the red bullet like a maniac. I still have a clear image in my mind of the delayed braking and the way he took an uphill blind corner flat out. I was holding myself tight into the side roll-bar, hoping that the Gs did not throw me out of the cockpit. At the end of the session, I was a mix of emotions: joy, fear, terror, I was rushing with adrenaline and eager to get back out there and have another go. That was my first time in a Radical SR3, a 500kg, 252bhp car with slick tyres and a sequential gearbox. The love affair began.

Honestly, that love has never subsided, but for me, it's akin to dating Heidi Klum; out of my reach and out of my price range. After many evenings spent with Andrew Lemon talking engines, acceleration, racing pads, lightweight wheels and carbon fibre seats, he confessed he had bought an SR3. 'Are you kidding me?' I said. 'Have you driven it yet?' He told me he would race it in the 2006/2007 Gulf Radical Cup.

A few weeks after learning that Andrew was now a proud owner of a feisty Radical my brain engaged, would Andrew be interested in taking part in an evo track test? I approached him with exactly that question, he knows the magazine well and was not only happy to hand over the keys but suggested I drive the car. Would Nik, the esteemed editor of this magazine, allow me to fulfill a dream and carry out the test? I call Nik, he doesn't deny me opportunity, maybe he can hear the enthusiasm in my voice.

Talks continue between myself, Andrew and Nik for a few weeks in order to make the Radical test happen. I still cannot believe my dream is coming true. I feel electrified. A few more days pass and I receive a call, the call. Andrew and Nik have not only agreed that I should take the car on the track, but they're going to let me enter a race. A real race with flags, a grid, lap timesÉ they must be crazy. I didn't share that thought with them, instead tried my best to be serious and responsible, accepting the proposal as if it was a normal invitation to a routine road test. The truth is I could not believe my ears. Andrew asks me if I have a racing licence. I don't. The event is in two weeks, so my No.1 priority is to get an Autodrome instructor to sign on the dotted line. I spend hours at the Race School with my colleague Sean Stevens, who is a senior instructor. I am an A-Grade student and in return he signs the paperwork. I am a racing pilot. Kind of.

TESTING
At last, the free practice day comes and Martin Hope wants me in the garage at 8.30am. It's going to be a full day and I arrive on time - smiling and full of expectation. Barry Hope, owner and manager of Gulf Sport, who also run a team in the series they organise hosts us in his garage. I meet the other pilots in the team and try to familiarise myself with the environment. I have been here before, but only as a spectator. Barry is there with his usual warm, welcoming smile. I meet Dylan, my engineer; Gary and Andy, mechanics with hundreds of racedays behind; and Martin, who will be my mentor for the weekend ahead.

I have to borrow Barry's FIA race suite since my karting one gets bounced by the Autodrome's racing director. This is the first of many laughs that will come at my expense this weekend. Not so amusing, I will also have to wear Barry's underwear and shirt too.

I have a chat with the other Gulf Sport drivers Jean Yves Mallat and Mohammed Al-Owais before Dylan gives us a quick briefing. It's going to be a shakedown session. We want to go out to see if the car is running OK. Dylan comes from a background in the BTCC and with Pirelli as an engineer in the WRC European Championship. His words are priceless. He gives me a lot of confidence although the trembling nerves remain with me. Too late. Before I know it, I am in the car, secured in the six-point harness and made-to-measure seat. There's no backing out now.

We let the experienced guys go out first and after a few minutes fire up the 1500cc Powertec Suzuki engine and with a bark I approach the pit lane exit where a guy in an orange overall asks me to show him my wristband. 'What wristband?' I had forgotten to go to race control and sign up, therefore I didn't have a wristband. Reverse gear and back into the garage. The session is over. Damn rookie. The new boy is providing the jokes as predicted. There is nothing to do, but wait for the next session.

My second chance had come. I proudly show my shining bracelet to the marshal and I exit the pit lane. I am on the track and it's time to see if the Radical is as keen as I am. Every time I accelerate it starts vibrating like a washing machine, when I brake it laughs at me, we are parked 50 metres from the corner entry. The steering wheel has a fantastic feel, but must be held with conviction. It's so sensitive that every movement throws my front-end metres off rather than the centimeters I had intended. It is taking time to get used to the speed and ability of the SR3.

I feel like I have never driven a car before. I have lapped this circuit countless times in GT cars and I use my braking points as usual. Suddenly, I find myself at walking speed. A combination of the lightweight car, sticky tyres, and deft brakes are making it seem like I've driven into a glue spillage. I am so far away from the correct braking point that when I release the pedal and turn-in, the back end tries to overtake me. The Radical definitely does not like the transition from brakes to throttle, especially if you're slow at it. And at the deep, left-hand turn 14, referred to as the 'bowl', I am made to pay for inexperience, spinning on the bend. Damn. Clutch pressed, the engine is still on, I look around, no damage, first gear and back on track. This is going be hard work.

When I am back in the pit garage they tell me my best lap time was 1:54.532. I am only 13sec off pole position. Shall I go home now? Taxi. I'm embarrassed. I sit down with Dylan and Martin who, with the patience of older siblings, listen to my troubles. Yes, it's true, this car likes to be driven with conviction, it is not scared of entering a corner at warp speed or to brake like its heading for a wall, but the Radical likes to do it smoothly. Super fast but smooth. I will try trail-braking to enter the corner but be back on the throttle immediately, just a touch, to give the back end some traction.

Third practice session. I pretend I am driving my Trulli-Biland kart. I want to enjoy this experience. This time I decide the car will obey me and will become my friend. All of a sudden I feel like something has changed, erm, radically. I brake with impetus and enter the corner with a better line and in good shape. Immediately I bring my right foot on the throttle and incredibly I feel the back tyres biting the tarmac. The car responds with unimaginable discipline. This machine likes nothing but hard braking and traction. At last, I feel like I'm in charge. It can be under or oversteering in a hundredth of a second but its reactions are just straight forward, only there is no Bosch technology to cut the power or to stop a spinning wheel.

I still brake like my grandmother but braking, turn-in, apex, exit become more homogeneous. In a straight line, I use all the gears and the banshee yell of those 252bhp shakes the air around my helmet. I am in paradise although still a little fearful of this big feline. I love how she behaves, constantly demanding my attention. She likes to be scratched on her back but watch out, those sharp claws can punish me in an instant. Best not get too cosy.

Third, fourth, fifth, sixth, then hard on the middle pedal, quick to make sure you're on the right line. Heal, toe and downshift, quick, start turning in and on to the throttle, but not too much. Wow! We are starting to get friendly, I am finding the balance between myself and the car. The sequential gearbox is awesome. I want one in my own car, the change is so quick that I barely have time to press the clutch. I come back into the pits and I am glad to see Andy and Dylan smiling. It felt good and the lap time reflects that, 1:47.656.

I drive the next session badly and my lap time doesn't get any better. I feel overwhelmed with information and my poor little brain is still trying to process what happened in the previous session. I stay on track for a few laps, but return to the pit garage like a dejected schoolboy although I still have the feeling that I can resurrect the blossoming friendship I was beginning to have with the SR3.

I sit down with Barry Hope and we decide that what we have done so far is enough, we can call it a day. We want the car fresh for tomorrow. This maturity lasts only 20 minutes. I go back to Andy, Mike and Gary and ask if I can go out for another session. I cannot resist. They smile with the patience I've become used to and prepare the car. In the meantime, my teammate, Jean Yves, shows me some interesting telemetry of his best lap times and we compare my best with his. I wish I hadn't. I brake a full 25 metres before him at any corner. I thought I had been getting used to the car. Obviously not. Next session I will try to brake 10 metres later. May God be with me.

The aim for this session is to brake later and to trust the downforce, which is huge considering it gets to about 500kg at 200kmh. I have to ignore my brain urging my right foot to brake 10 metres beyond where I usually would. I yell in my helmet like a Kamikaze pilot in World War II. I force my foot to wait just half a second more and to brake later and harder. On turn 10, I must brake at the white marker board. The car understands me and decides to help. Things work out. I desperately slam my right foot on the brake with more conviction. I almost throw up in my helmet. I felt like a world champion until I spun again on the bowl.

I keep a good rhythm and after another four laps they record my best lap time. A 1:45.863. I am using the back end of the car under brakes to enter the corner more aggressively and she likes it. The steering is fantastic, its outstanding feedback is one of the most critical factors of success. I start to feel the benefit of the wings and the front tyres biting at the limit of their grip in the corners. This car deserves an award in communication. We're beginning to speak a similar language now. I am slowly beginning to climb the the steep learning curve of Radical racing. I head back to the pit garage and we can call it a day.

RACEDAY
It's the day. I cruise at 100kmh towards the Dubai Autodrome, listening to my favourite Pink Floyd album, Coming Back To Life live. I feel excited and a bit nervous. I guess it's the right combination.

On arrival at the Autodrome, I drop my licence at race control and walk back to our garage. Barry looks fresh as usual, the boys are ready for the race and, with the sunlight flooding the pit, the cars look stunning, decked out in evo livery, their wheels aside the race cars up on their metal stands being prepped for the day.

My next session on the track will be a timed one and give me my position on the grid. The game is getting serious. After a warm up lap, I slam my foot full on the throttle along the main straight, I brake way before the white marker board, probably still 20 metres ahead of the other drivers and I stay in fourth gear, I take a wide line. I like the balance and accelerate full throttle until turn 2 where I brake hard and downshift into third. I want to stay well left to find a good line for turn 4. It works. Full throttle, fifth, sixth, up to one of the toughest braking points on the circuit, the hairpin. I go on the middle pedal hard right before the board, third gear, enter the bend making sure I am at the apex. It's better to find a later apex to have a better line for the difficult next corner. The tail of the car is moving nicely, helping me on to a better line. I look for some speed, it's all uphill after that.

Fourth gear, I stay well on the left for the entrance of next bend, third gear, be careful, it's off camber. Good, quickly into fourth, fifth and a short shift into sixth for the long, sweeping and very, very fast turn 13. Here comes my nightmare, the bowl. I spun twice here yesterday. I take a conservative approach. I brake nice and straight, downshift smooth to third and look for the apex where I can find a lot of good rubber. Now uphill for the next bend, I am forced into lifting off the throttle. Quickly into fourth, foot to the floor, uphill and then downhill for the final corner and into third gear again. Late entry and back full on the throttle. I love the last turn. I look for speed at the apex. There's a long straight after that. Phew, I am alive.

I confirm a time of 1:45.860. I am second last because evo motoring editor, Bassam Kronfli has been having car trouble all weekend. He cannot qualify and will start the race from the back of the grid. When he's back in the pits, evo chief road tester Karim offers Bassam his spare engine. This is a real gentlemanly act from the Radical Cup champion. His mechanics will have to produce a miracle to change his engine in less than three hours, but Bassam needs to score points to maintain his second place in the Gulf Radical Cup.

RACE 1
It's time for the dream to come true. I am on the grid. John Stanley, in his patchwork sky blue and black car, is just in front of me. Bassam is at my right-hand side. Thankfully there will be a rolling start behind the pace car. I would certainly stall the engine otherwise - a mixture of inexperience and nerves.

The warm up lap is taken behind the Audi A4 pace car. At the beginning of the main straight, pacesetter Karim will have to wait for the green light to start the actual race. Green. We're off. It's terrific, all the cars explode in a thunder. Bassam has the new engine, but is still behind me. He's still in trouble and cannot pass. His boys have changed the engine but there is still a problem with the fuel injection. Bad luck again. The rest of the pack career off into the distance and I find myself alone. I am confused and slow, I don't want to make mistakes. I am racing against myself. I try to keep focused and am getting better lap after lap. I need to finish the race and keep a decent rhythm. Twelve laps are enough for me to lose my concentration. The in-car lap timer isn't working, which is good thing, I don't need any other distractions. I feel the back end is sliding on turns 10 and 12. I stay awake, keep my cool and find some consistency. I finish in sixth. Mission accomplished, no damage, race over.

RACE 2
I feel much more relaxed this time around. I lost a lot of time on the opening lap of my first race, about six seconds. My goal this time is to get out of the blocks quicker and get into a rhythm. I start much better and keep a good pace from the beginning. I stay with the competition for about two laps. My car feels good. My tyres are worn and begin sliding, but my pace is better and my braking has definitely improved. The lap timer now works perfectly and all of a sudden I can read 1:45.218. My best lap. Great. I feel I can do better than that and start pushing harder and harder. I want to be in the 1:44s.

I begin to make few little mistakes, but my driving is getting better. I have another two laps before the end of this race. I give it everything I have. Late on the brakes, early on the throttle, smooth on the steering wheel and fast on the gear stick. I start my last lap as if I am fighting for the world championship. I am all alone. I want to see that 44. I would sell my soul. I drive well, as well as I possibly can. I take some risks on the corners, I feel every inch of the car, every gear change at the right rev and every breath of the engine. Everything happens so quickly. It's my last corner, I close my eyes and slam my foot on the throttle. I cannot believe my eyes: 1:45.008. No. Disaster. Well, it's by far my best lap time of the weekend. What a race. Me, the Radical and the International Circuit of Dubai. I finish much closer to the group this time. What a weekend, probably the best I've ever had.

My date with the Radical is over. I think the car grew to like me in the end. I feel flattered when fellow competitor Roberto Simpson shakes my hand and congratulates me. Karim, who has just set a the new lap record, tells me it is an achievement to finish two races without damage and with consistent improvement. I feel lucky. Andrew Lemon can relax, his baby is back in one piece. I will be eternally thankful for this experience. I am addicted.

A big thank you to Barry Hope and everyone at Gulf Sport for the loan of the Radical SR3 and the opportunity to race.