There's a saying at Silverstone: "There's those who have. And those who are going to." It refers to crashing. I'm at the circuit in Northamptonshire to have a go in a Ferrari F430. I've never crashed a car in my life. In fact, I've never even been involved in a minor prang. This bodes well.
I ask Mike – the ex-pro driver who's giving me my safety briefing – whether he's ever crashed a car. "I've crashed three times," he tells me. "Once I crashed my sister's car. But don't write that bit down. I told her it was a falling tree."
Mike is to teach me about the "racing line". There's a big map on the wall and he's asked me to show him what I think a racing line around a corner is. I place my finger on the map of the Silverstone course and sweep down the straight and then loop round a corner. I'm pretty confident.
"You don't have to make the noise of a racing car when you do that," says Mike. "But other than that, that was quite bad." Oh.
No matter. I'm here to learn, and once I've grasped the theory of breaking points, turning points, clipping points and exits I'm ready to grab a helmet and get into a car. I'm going to be taken around the track by an instructor called Chris. It's drizzling and a low mist is hanging over the course.
"These are the worst conditions you will ever drive in," says Chris, smiling at me.
The last time I was here I was running round the track doing a half marathon. By the end I was grizzling and may have shouted an obscenity when, as I came into the home stretch, some wag stuck the theme tune to Chariots of Fire over the public address system.
So that I can get used to the circuit, we take a first spin around it in an Aston Martin Vantage. Chris talks me through every inch of the track, tells me when to change gear, when to brake, and when to accelerate out of the bends. I feel completely in control and it's brilliant.
"Right then," he says, after I've done five laps. "Ready for the Ferrari?"
I nod. The last time I was in a Ferrari I was propositioned by a dwarf who worked in the porn industry. But that's another story. I'm hoping this time the experience will be more jolly. The car is magnificent. As I flick the ignition, the throb of the engine screams class. As we go out on to the track Chris says: "You'll need to readjust your racing line. The track's slippery as hell."
"Wouldn't it be embarrassing if I crashed?" I say, laughing.
"Keep your eyes on the track," says Chris.
I've completed three laps and managed to drive at 120mph. That's the fastest I've ever been. Formula One drivers race at 220mph. Chris reckons I may be able to get up to 140mph in these conditions but I've only got a few more laps to try. I'm coming into Club Corner, the notorious bend at Silverstone that brings you to the start/finish line. And as I reach the clipping point on the corner, I accelerate too soon and the Ferrari goes into an almighty slide. A zen-like calm descends and I look up and realise that I am heading straight for a concrete wall.
"I am about to crash a Ferrari," I think.
I hear Chris yelling: "Take your foot off the brake!" He's wrestling the wheel out of my hands and with inches to spare, we miss the wall. Chris is bleeding. He's cut his finger on the wheel. I have drawn blood at Silverstone. Take that, petrolheads.
• Silverstone (silverstone.co.uk) track days, including driving a Ferrari, cost from £89
