I only got to know Ayrton when I moved to Europe, to do the Formula Opel European Championship in 1990. Of course, like everyone at the time, I was a big fan of his, I used to do a lot of karting practice in Interlagos, a track he knew so well and where he’d done a lot of testing, but for me it was just a short walk away from home, as I live in Interlagos for the first half of my life.

For me, for Christian Fittipaldi, who was my main rival in karting, and for all the other kids, Ayrton was the reference, the idol, the driver we all wanted to copy, so when I met him I was quite overwhelmed, of course. I actually drove for West Surrey Racing in British Formula 3, the same team he’d been in a few years early and Ayrton’s stories were legendary inside the team and in the Formula 3 paddock.

Once I got to Formula 1, in 1993, Ayrton was super-busy, of course, be he’d occasionally make time to come and speak to me, sort of looking after me, but I never dared to ask him anything. Towards the end of that season, with Christian as well, we went out for dinner a few times, but it was very much like the adult looking after the kids, there was so much respect towards him we hardly dared to treat him as one of us. I used to call him “the chief”, a bit to wind him up but, deep down, because I really felt he was our natural leader.

One funny thing happened around the 1993 Japanese Grand Prix, when, completely by accident, I bumped into him in the hotel in Tokyo where I was staying and we ended up going, just the two of us, to Disneyland Tokyo. Can you imagine that? Two Formula 1 drivers, the best driver in the world, just playing around in Disneyland!

Unfortunately, a few months later he was gone and that had a huge effect on me, personally, and in my career too. A few weeks early I had scored my first podium in Formula 1, when I finished third in Aida and I was, of course, delighted. Ayrton, on the other hand, had been taken out in the first corner and was obviously not happy, because Schumacher had won two races in a row and Ayrton still had zero points. Plus, there were questions about the legality of the Benetton, so the atmosphere was tense in the paddock. Still, he took time to come and congratulate me in the circuit and seemed genuinely happy for me, which was, of course, very nice.

And then, a few weeks later, we had Imola and that dreadful weekend. On Friday I had a bad crash, flipped the car in the last but one chicane and actually passed out. When I came around, I was in the circuit’s medical center and Ayrton was already there, next to me. There were a few tears about to come out of his eyes but when I woke up, he sounded very calm, told me I was going to be alright and would be back in the car quickly. I had to go to Bologna hospital as I had a couple of broken bones, I came to the track before Saturday qualifying and then went home, so I didn’t witness Ayrton’s accident live, which, for me, was a good thing.

The whole post-Imola experience is like a haze to me. I don’t remember much of the funeral, I don’t remember carrying the reef, it was all like my body was there, but my soul was elsewhere. I guess we all felt quite lost without Ayrton around, even the elder drivers, so you can imagine the effect it had on me, a 22-years old kid, losing his idol and his reference just like that.

Of course, as you know, the Brazilian fans and media put a lot of pressure on me to take over from Ayrton, but I was just a kid on his second Formula 1 season, my car was not competitive and, of course, I couldn’t win races. There was a lot of negativity that got to me, I have to admit, but with time I learned to live with it and get the most out of myself.

I knew I wasn’t Ayrton Senna but also knew a lot of fans that wanted me to be the new Senna and there was nothing I could do about. So, I channeled my energies in a positive way and can be very proud of the career I had. When I look back, I only have fond memories of Ayrton, the times we spent together and what I learned just from watching him on the track. He was someone so special that fans all over the world still mourn him 30 years after he left us – and, for me, that says it all.