Out of a cloud of smoke, the car comes hurtling at me – a high-speed turn sending it sliding sideways in a move known as ‘drifting’. It’s so fast that all I see are headlights.
The echo of rattling exhausts ricochets around the retail park in Basildon, Essex. The air tastes of burnt rubber and my eyes sting with metallic dust. Then the back end of the car whips around, skidding past within centimetres of my feet.
I leap backwards. Others around me in the crowd don’t – that’s part of the thrill.
As the smoke clears, I realise there are hundreds of
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