F1 Special Column - The Real World Of Formula 1
27/08/2007
The chances are that any prospective candidate applying for a job in Formula 1 will cite a desire to travel the world. Wrong answer.
In Formula 1, whatever your occupation, travelling is a means to an end. Heathrow provides the same numb familiarity commuters feel each day when passing through their local railway station.
There is none of the holiday romance normally associated with checking in for a flight. This is the bus to work and it matters little whether the destination is Budapest or Barcelona: the F1 world traveller gets to see very few of the sights.
Bridgestone’s tyre fitters are typical of the F1 workforce. They will arrive at the race track on Monday and leave a week later. Inbetween, the working days are clearly defined and often 12 hours long.
Arrival must be two hours before the start of practice, Friday being the busiest day thanks to two practice sessions. By the time the tyres have been stripped from their rims and fresh rubber prepared for the next day, dinner will be served at the track, followed by a late return to the hotel.
One hotel looks very much like another. Anyone in F1 will tell you that it is common to wake in the morning, stare at the ceiling for a moment or two and wonder which country you are in, particularly in late August when one race seems to relentlessly follow another. And that has little to do with overindulgence the night before.
Each branch of F1’s workforce will enjoy at least one night in a restaurant, the closest you get to appreciating the local ambience and food. The trouble is, the spectre of another day’s work is ever-present.
It does not take long to appreciate that a noisy race track in debilitating heat is the worst place in the world to nurse a hangover. The local plonk may seem tasty and cheap when taking a well-earned breather, but you will pay the full price the following morning.
The long haul races, particularly to the Far East, provide the only chance for a genuine break when the grands prix are two weeks apart and it is not worth returning to base. Many Europeans will also arrive a few days early in order to acclimatise and adapt to the time change.
Jet lag is one of the many surprises waiting as the F1 travelling novice gets to grips with different cultures, climates and diets. That’s after overcoming the delays, overbookings, shortage of hire cars and hotel rooms without air-conditioning but with a disco on the next floor. And that’s before a decent day’s work has begun.
It’s fun, though; a completely different kind of life driven by a competitiveness which invades whatever area of the sport you have chosen. There are no excuses accepted and no sympathy offered for failure; if you can’t hack it, there are plenty of applicants waiting to take your place.
A Grand Prix weekend is long and exhausting. If you are lucky enough to catch a flight home on the Sunday night, the journey will be a quiet one as everyone unwinds. Mental shut-down will ensue, as I discovered one Sunday at around midnight when first in the queue at Heathrow’s passport control.
Interested in learning more about this latest band of travellers, the passport officer asked where our flight had come from. For a couple of seconds, my mind went completely blank. I had to turn to a colleague and ask: “Where the hell have we just been?” Embarrassing, but true. That’s the effect of travelling in an exciting world, but doing it every other week.
Maurice Hamilton is BBC Radio Five
Live's Formula 1 commentator, and covers Formula 1 for The Observer
newspaper, CAR Magazine in the UK and Racer Magazine in America. His
work is published in the USA, South Africa, Australia, Columbia and
Ireland.