It begins inauspiciously. I've strapped myself into a white BMW M5 Nurburgring Ring-Taxi next to Jacques Villeneuve. He's distractedly and unsuccessfully trying to click his seatbelt in place while fidgeting to get comfortable in his BMW-Sauber race overalls. He's also grappling with the unfamiliar electric rear-view mirror controls while simultaneously reversing uphill out of a narrow gap crowded with curious onlookers.
"Right," he says, flicking on the air-con. "Do you know where we're going?"
"What?" I reply. "Haven't you driven round this place before?"