AFTER BURN

It might be a plaything for billionaires, but Bugatti's new track-only Bolide is a force of nature. We're first to experience it in full flight

- JACK RIX

Fill the footwell, toddler-style in my own lap, remove and soil my own helmet or attempt to fling open the door and launch a projectile over the sill?

These appear to be my puking options as Andy Wallace gives me the thumbs up and delivers another gut-pummelling launch. I nod weakly and turn green. I consider my constitution sturdy, but the Bolide is no respecter of reputations, it’s a feral attack on the eyes, ears and organs, and when you’re in the passenger seat with zero idea when the next punch of acceleration or brick wall of braking is coming, it reduces grown men to gibbering, dribbling wrecks. Being simultaneously flooded with happy hormones, but also wanting to escape and lie in the foetal position under a bush for a few hours is a new one for me. But then the Bugatti Bolide is a new one for us all.