My original driving instructor was called George Bailey. He wore lifts in his shoes, had a questionable moustache, and his car was a white Datsun Sunny. Not so much a rite of passage as a sub-plot in The Inbetweeners.
Today is a step-up. Jean Alesi – you may have heard of him – has just arrived in the pit garage at Hethel in a stylishly Gallic blur. He’s wearing one of Lotus’s surprisingly tasteful branded leather jackets, and mirrored aviator sunglasses. His career encompasses 201 Grands Prix, DTM, some world-class viticulture and, somewhat surreally, a pen company whose investors include Sylvester Stallone... but Jean today enters the high-octane world of driving instruction. The car is the Lotus Type 125, the most F1-tastic track car in the world. I am his pupil. It’s a close call as to who is more nervous.
Jean's subjects will vary considerably in quality, but the one thing they'll all have in common is a healthy bank balance (except for me, obviously). While Lotus is full-tilt on the new Esprit and Elite, the first sign that it's truly serious about taking the fight to the likes of Ferrari and Porsche is in its new ultra-exclusive Exos/125 driver programme.
The 125 is certainly way beyond any of Lotus's previous track efforts. Building and reinforcing bullet-proof brands at the very highest level is no longer just about making fantastic road cars, it's about creating unique experiences for your most dedicated clients. Expensive unique experiences, usually, and Exos is undoubtedly a bit pricey at $1m. 
So what does that buy you? A dedicated concierge and more fun than you could wave a very fat chequebook at, but primarily the 125 single-seater, which Lotus claims uses F1-inspired technology and certainly looks the part. Its carbon-fibre monocoque, aero appendages and double diffuser are all pure F1 in design and intent, and you'll hear no argument from me when it comes to having a Champ Car-spec 3.8-litre Cosworth GP V8 piston-pumping an inch or two from the small of your back.
So what does that buy you? A dedicated concierge and more fun than you could wave a very fat chequebook at, but primarily the 125 single-seater, which Lotus claims uses F1-inspired technology and certainly looks the part. Its carbon-fibre monocoque, aero appendages and double diffuser are all pure F1 in design and intent, and you'll hear no argument from me when it comes to having a Champ Car-spec 3.8-litre Cosworth GP V8 piston-pumping an inch or two from the small of your back. 
n Lotus Type 125 trim, this lump is good for 640bhp, revs to 10,300rpm, and with a dry weight of around 650kg, performance is on the brisk side of ballistic. Let's be honest, the 125 pretty much obliterates any other ‘track' car you can think of, and immediately pops Lotus onto a whole new ambitious plain. But though clearly inspired by Ferrari's lucrative FXX and Corse Clienti programmes, Exos also gives the concept a few twists. The most important of which are that a) the 125 doesn't need an army of mechanics on stand-by or an engine rebuild every time you fire it up, and b) you get Jean Alesi and his aviator sunglasses teaching you how to drive the thing.
"It was Dany's idea," says Lotus's Vice President of Corporate Affairs Gino Rosato, who - along with former Ferrari marketing VP and current Lotus CEO Dany Bahar, and Scuderia Ferrari mainstay and new Lotus motorsport boss Claudio Berro - is pumping Lotus full of a fresh intensity and passion. "We wanted to create something that was a weekend F1 car, that had all the seriousness of an F1 car, but without the logistical problems. Ultimately, we want something you just climb into, push a big start button and go."
The chassis was designed by Paolo Catone, the man behind Peugeot's 908 LMP1 car, whose outfit near Bologna can also handle carbon manufacture. With its carbon-composite construction and panels, the 125 might not have approval to race, but it adheres to the FIA's brutal impact and roll-over safety tests. The suspension uses double wishbones made of aerospace-grade material actuated by pushrods and rockers, and has fully adjustable dampers and front and rear anti-roll bars. The brakes are carbon ceramic, with twin master cylinders and front/rear bias adjustment, and the fuel system is also FIA-approved.
While the 125 clearly lacks the endless filigree aero refinements that even the current, supposedly simpler F1 generation have, the car is still a magnificent-looking dead-ringer for the most highly evolved single-seaters. One that you can buy, get into, and drive without having to dragoon an army of lap-top-wielding men in branded overalls. And get this: though no one knows for sure, the word is that it's fast enough to qualify on the current F1 grid. Sheesh. Definitely not a Datsun Sunny, then.
Benjamin Durand, who oversees Lotus's Exos and GT programmes, insists that the 125's accessibility is core to its appeal. "The parameters came from Dany, Gino and Claudio. Obviously, there are many things we could have done, but the key is that the car has to feel safe and usable. It is also meant to do 3,000km without needing any major mechanical work. Of course, it is still extreme, but in terms of set-up, it is very balanced; we did not want it to be treacherous on the one hand or too cautious on the other. We are still working on the tyres - the current Michelin compound we have is very hard. We're also still configuring the dampers and traction control. We're constantly refining the set-up with Jean."
Ah, Jean. Winner of a solitary GP, perhaps, but still a fully paid-up, 24-carat legend. That single victory belies the enormous talent of a man whose career statistics simply don't do him justice - he can still remember each and every mechanical failure that cost him yet another race victory. With my name sitting unworthily beneath his on the cockpit of the 125, he oversees my initiation into the car. I'm a good test for its physical accessibility: at 6ft 3in and nudging 15 stone, if I can get comfortable in here, pretty much anyone will be able to. "Eees OK?" asks Jean with genuine curiosity.
Eees very OK, actually. There's an amazing amount of elbowroom, thanks to the 125's wider-than-F1 sidepods, my feet are almost perfectly positioned on the pedals - I'll left-foot brake, though there's room to use your right foot - and it's only with the wheel on full lock that it brushes my legs. The guys drop a vacuum bag full of Styrofoam balls into the cockpit, I climb in again, and marvel as the air is sucked out and the thing moulds itself around my backside. This process takes about 25 minutes, but when you have Jean Alesi at your shoulder, it zips by. (Random quotes: "Senna? I was never concerned if I had Senna in my mirrors or if he was alongside. Because he was brilliant and, most importantly, consistent. Other drivers I raced were... less consistent." "I know there are some drivers who just retire completely, but my life would be sad without motorsport." "Understeer? You'll never drive anything I have been involved with that understeers, including the 125!")
He does a couple of warm-up laps. The Cossie engine idles a little lumpily at first, but is soon making all the right, terrifying noises. Jean's commitment and the way he is instantly on top of the 125's talents and idiosyncrasies is truly something to behold. He says that the chassis is genuinely good, and that the car has a "very positive front end". Then we watch him drift the bloody thing round the first hairpin, a piece of car control that's up there with the best I've ever seen. Positive front end, slidey rear, evidently. My set-up preference, too. This much is true, though: even knowledgeable bystanders would swear they were watching an F1 car.
My go. Jean says it's practically impossible to stall it. Naturally, I stall it. (Later, I realise that this is because my foot is on the brake as I'm releasing the hand-clutch and bringing up the revs. Fool.) The last comparable thing I drove was an ex-Mark Webber Jaguar R5, and nothing, and I mean nothing, no Veyrons, Caparos, or Caterham R500s, can get close to the insane feeling you get when you let rip in something so powerful, with so little mass, whose bodywork suckers you into the ground the faster you go.
Without having to employ a full works team, the Lotus Type 125 is as close to an F1-car experience as you can get. The first few laps are - how can I put this - experimental. This is due to the simple fear of trashing one of only a handful of 125 prototypes that exist. The transmission turns the engine's furious power into blistering forward motion, but by changing up myself as well as changing down I'm not feeling the full force. Floor it, and let it change up itself at maximum revs, Jean had told me beforehand. But then he also advised me to take it gradually. Metering out 640bhp gradually is a challenge.
And going forwards is the easy bit. Having a slice of this semi-F1 action is proof that going fast in F1 is all about how effectively you slow down. During the first few laps, I brake so early for the chicane I'd have time to watch all six seasons of The Sopranos before I actually get there. It's partially the left-foot braking thing, partly the enormous retardation carbon brakes offer on such a lightweight car.
But it gets better. Leaving the 'box to do its thing unleashes a wave of acceleration so savage that at first all you can really do is hold on. It's scary, outrageous, physically demanding and utterly, utterly brilliant. On the back straight, the 125 bottoms out under full power in a way that seriously gets your attention, but the best way through it is also the most counter-intuitive: keep your foot in, and try not to disturb the aero any more than necessary. Then it's hard on the brakes - no Tony Soprano now - and bam-bam-bam down the 'box. F*****g hell, this is insane.
The first-corner hairpin is a first-gear job that needs full steering lock. There are some traction issues as I hook up second gear, and the wheelspin is another thing that instantly gets my attention. Durand may have talked proudly of the 125's accessibility, but you still need to be sharp to keep this thing going in the right direction. On the other hand, the ease with which my lap times start tumbling is proof that he's right: by the end of the session, I've worked out you really can use the front end very positively and that slick tyres and big aero is the stuff of fantasy.
"I can hear how you are doing out there," Jean says, afterwards. "I can hear what you are doing right and what you are doing wrong. Another hour on the track... it would change your life!"
It's already happened, Jean. Now let me have 12,000rpm and 700bhp...
This feature was originally published in the June issue of Top Gear magazine
