The Germans call it the ‘green hell’. It’s the size of Jersey and there are villages in the middle of it. The “old” Nurburgring is the greatest circuit driving experience in the world – and it’s available to anyone: in your own car, at your own pace.

So what makes the ‘Ring unique? Well for a start, it’s thirteen miles long and there are about 175 corners. I say “about”, because it depends on the car you’re driving. According to Ringmeister Tony Dron, “You can get it down to four corners in a racing Mini: everywhere else is flat out. But in a Historic Ferrari there are nearer 230 corners.”

The old Nurburgring hasn’t been used for Grands Prix since Niki Lauda’s near-fatal accident in 1976, but it’s still home to a great deal of racing. On its frequent public days, however, it’s closed to racing and opened up to anyone who wants to drive round in their road car, for about £6 per lap. Alternatively, for roughly £60, you and your friends can take a high-speed “taxi-ride” with a professional. But if you do fancy putting your own driving skills to the test, and you don’t want to get tangled up with motorbikes or even the odd tourist bus rumbling over the top of a blind crest, by far the safest option is to go with a track driving club like Wheeltorque. Which is exactly what I did last month, in a brand spanking new MG ZT, with Tony Dron as instructor and taxi-driver.

Wheeltorque track days at the ‘Ring attract a fabulous array of exotic machinery. In the paddock, however, attention centred not on the Historic Ferraris, on the F40s and F50, not on the Porsches and Maserati, but on the novelty of the butchly-styled MG ZT. “What’s it like?” asked punter after punter. “Surprisingly good,” answered Dron. “Really, very good indeed.” Which was high praise, coming from someone whose last outright win here was in a £1.5 million Ferrari. The punters looked unconvinced, till they saw the ZT out on track. OK, so we had the benefit of a pro driver who has raced at the ‘Ring in everything from Historic Ferraris to a modern M3, and who, with Paul Taft, here achieved the first ever 24-hour race finish for a Mini. With the admitted advantage of a driver who knows every one of the 175 corners intimately, our ZT left M3 owners in tears – or so it seemed as they disappeared in our mirrors.

A great deal of thought has clearly gone into the ZT’s sports suspension. The car is extraordinarily stable and reassuring – and quick: quite sensationally good for a medium-large four-door saloon. Teased into rushing swiftly through the fast ess-bends down the hill towards the Adenau bridge, the ZT did no more than wriggle its rear end safely in protest before resuming its headlong dash. The powerful brakes showed no sign of suffering after several laps in the dry: and rain the following day proved that you can get away with murder with a good, modern ABS system, braking hard in a way that would have an old-fashioned car straight off the road. In the wet, it seemed even easier for Dron to pass an array of expensive machines with grand names. “Let’s get past that Fiat,” he muttered, seemingly unaware that the ‘Fiat’ had 550 Maranello written across its back end. “And that dratted VW Beetle,” he said as we swept past a Carrera 4. We sailed past Caterhams, shot by a Skyline, nipped past an F50… Plus (yawn) the obvious victims, like a Maserati 3200, which flashed backwards at a surprising speed.

Up in the wooded mountains of the Nurburgring, spectacular scenery rolls away into the distance while huge farms with lush upland grazing lie within the ‘infield’. The Ardennes and Belgium are to the West, the Rhine is to the East. The circuit itself plunges down and soars up the valleys relentlessly and, from surprisingly many spots on clear days, you can see the restored Nurburg castle, wisely perched on top of a conical hill, giving robber barons of old the best vantage point for miles around. Beginners take a few corners and lose their bearings, surprised to see that old castle in yet another unexpected direction. But you can’t get lost, as the ribbon of road just rolls on between the Armco, with only two barely noticeable turnings off, at Adenau and the smaller Nurburg itself. ‘On clear days’? Dream on: as often as not, the circuit is cloaked in low cloud, with rain falling. In the wet you really need to know what you’re doing as it seems that, over the years, every road-mending company in Germany has been contracted to resurface the place, bit by bit. This means that although the condition of the track surface is extremely good, the grip varies greatly from one stretch to another once rain falls. Some sections are quite spooky in heavy rain and a few short parts of the track, mainly under trees, are absolutely lethally slippery after no more than a hint of drizzle. “You just have to know these things,” said Dron, which didn’t fill me with confidence when it was my turn to take the wheel.

On the few occasions when I’ve driven on track days, I’ve noticed an alarming tendency to forget that the normal laws of physics still apply. It’s all too easy to think that you can somehow take a corner faster, just because it’s a race circuit. As I drove my first, faltering lap of the Nurburgring I could tell that Dron’s advice was focused on safety, rather than speed. The cars we had overtaken earlier came rocketing past as I followed his instructions to the letter – down to every gear change and every touch of the brake and throttle. I might as well have been blindfold.

However, as I settled into the rhythm, Dron started to encourage me to go a bit faster: “Head for that post and take it flat out over the brow. Don’t smack on the throttle: open and close it progressively. The controls aren’t switches.” The red and white kerbs flashed by and the brisk orders came more quickly: “Down to third; gently off the brakes; turn in now; let the car drift out to the left; remember to check your mirrors,” and so on. A surprising number of people, he told me later, move their hands on the wheel – which should be avoided in circuit driving. “Once you start to slide through a corner, if you feed the steering wheel through your hands you have no reference point as to which way the wheels are pointing. As they start to grip on leaving the corner, the car will go wherever the wheels lead it. I’m all in favour of moving your hands on the wheel in Tesco’s car park, but not at speed on a bend at the ‘Ring, please.”

As for the car’s performance, I was amazed at the pull of the torquey engine. One of the key things for a fast lap, explained Dron, is to get a car set up to pull strongly through the long hill from Bergwerk towards the Carousel. “This is a killer to most engines,” he said. “I remember the MG Midget I first drove here in 1966 would not even hold 60mph for much of that hill.” The ZT surged up at a steady 110mph, which surprised us both: and certainly surprised a lot of the other drivers. But if you know what you’re doing, the ‘Ring is much faster than it appears. In Dron’s hands, the speed regularly showed 130mph.

When I got back to the paddock at the end of my lap of instruction, I was sweaty and shaking. I was longing to pore over a circuit map, study the racing lines, go back and do it again. Another few hundred laps and I’m sure I’d get the hang of it.

According to the experts, it takes about a thousand laps to get to know the Nurburgring, so I wasn’t expecting to learn much in two short days. And I wasn’t going to try too hard, either. There’s no run-off on the old ‘Ring and the Armco comes right up to the track. If you put up a memorial to everyone who’s been killed on this ultimate circuit, its entire 13-mile circumference would be bristling like a porcupine the size of an offshore tax haven. The memorials would include F1 driver Peter Collins and very nearly Niki Lauda.

To avoid real risks, sign up to a track club outing rather than a public day and get in at least a few laps with an instructor before attempting to go it alone. For pure driving tuition, the ‘Ring is not ideal. On a simpler circuit, it’s easier to learn the corners and then concentrate on your driving techniques. But there’s simply nothing to beat the ‘Ring for sheer excitement. F40-owner Raun Austin, at the Wheeltorque event with his Ferrari and his M3 racer, got out after his first lap spluttering “I thought I’d seen it all, but this – incredible.”

Although the ZT easily offered enough performance for track driving, I’d ideally want a rear-wheel-drive car, and a bit more poke – which is, of course, what MG will be bringing out next year. So I thought I’d get a foretaste of how serious performance will feel here, and begged a passenger ride in a Ferrari F50 with its de-tuned F1 engine, on slicks, again with Dron at the wheel. We trundled up the short alley to the circuit, were waved out by the marshalls, and the car picked up speed like a brick in freefall, up to the chicane and down the hill into Hatzenbach. It was pure roller coaster, stomach left behind as we plunged down a thin tarmac strip on the side of a mountain, gathering speed until the dark trees of the forest flashed past too fast to see.

Without a full race harness – just a silly little road belt to hold me in the seat – I scrabbled my body one way to brace for a left-hander, then scrabbled the other way as the race line swooped across to the right. I flew up in the air as the car became light, over a crest, and then an invisible hand pushed us down as we swept through a sharp dip. Even with the smooth flow of an expert driver, I was left feeling beaten up. But the sheer exhilaration made bruises worthwhile.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I saw the swooping curves of the Carousel and the Swallowtail, or the long vista which burrows down into the tree-lined darkness of the Foxhole.

Call me sad, but I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun in my life. The ‘Ring isn’t the green hell at all. It’s heaven.

Tony Dron offers one-to-one circuit instruction to drivers at all levels. See www.tonydron.co.uk

Wheeltorque can be contacted on 01429 881812