Need for Speed

I vividly remember the first time I saw a Formula 1 racing car in real life. It was June 1989 and my Dad had brought his Nigel Mansell obsessed boy to see his hero drive in the British Grand Prix at Silverstone. We had been sitting in our deck chairs since 6am and chosen our spot with our friends Dennis and Matthew. By the time the F1 cars arrived for their practise, we had already endured frost bite and suffered smoke inhalation from the disposable barbecue we'd 'cooked' breakfast on - but all of those worries soon disappeared when Andrea de Cesaris blasted his way around the famous old circuit. It wasn't so much the sight of the the red Dallara that amazed me as it passed us at Club Corner, it was the sound. The V12 engine screamed as it accelerated away from us - louder and more angry than anything I'd heard before in my life. My Dad recalls me standing with my bottom jaw almost touching the floor. I was in heaven.

Twenty-five years later and I'm still hooked on the sport. I've be fortunate enough to witness some of the greatest drivers ever to have graced a Grand Prix circuit - Schumacher, Prost, Vettel, Alonso - and even watched the late great Ayrton Senna. So when I realised that our time in Melbourne would coincide with the Australian Grand Prix, I jumped at the chance to attend.

Once my sister, Tamsin, had grown out of her My Little Pony phase (I think she would've been about 15), she became equally obsessed with Formula One. Whilst we had been in Qatar visiting her and the family, I had mentioned our plan and she and her husband, Chris, decided to come and join us in Australia too. I was so excited to be going to watch the opening race of the new season with her.

However, before we could watch any motor racing, Steve and I had to make our way from Malaysia to Australia. No problem, we thought. All our airport troubles are behind us, we thought. That was before the lovely lady at the Malaysia Airlines desk asked to see our Australian visas. D'oh!

Steve and I had been so diligent about researching visas and entry requirements for Southeast Asia, but neither of us had thought much about our week in Australia. After all it was one of the colonies, wasn't it?! Surely we didn't need a visa to enter somewhere with our flag on, did we? (In case any of my Australian/convict friends are reading, I am, of course, joking!) Apparently, we did.

Despite arriving in plenty of time, we were now faced with a race to get on board our plane before the departure gates closed. Our first obstacle was obtaining a visa. We had to collect a deli counter style ticket and waited for our turn - we were more than a little alarmed when we noticed that the current number on display was 2125 and our ticket was 3017! Thankfully, there weren't nine hundred people in the queue before us and we managed to get our paperwork done before racing back to the check in desk to drop off our luggage.

We were told we now only had a short time to get through security and make it to the departure lounge. In films this would mean pushing through crowds on escalators and hurdling security gates whilst being chased by security. In reality, it meant lots of stressful clock watching whilst patiently waiting in queues, like the good English boys we are. This was followed by a mad dash in flop flops through the departure hall to find our gate, which of course was the furthest away! We made it, by the skin of our teeth, and as we settled - slightly sweaty - on the plane we hoped we'd get some sleep before arriving in Melbourne the next morning.

As it turned out, our airport experience had been far less stressful than the one Tamsin, Chris and the kids had had to go through: their plane had been delayed by twelve hours and so we wouldn't be meeting them at the airport, but later on in the day. Instead, Steve had arranged to visit some old friends of his, Danielle, Todd and Lucy. 

We'd arrived in Melbourne at quarter-past-six in the morning and even by the time we had reached Danielle and Todd's house in the leafy suburbs of the city, it was still only seven-thirty. Despite the early hour on a Saturday morning, Danielle managed to give us a warm, if slightly sleepy, welcome and soon we were joined by Todd and Lucy.

That afternoon we were treated to a proper Aussie barbecue by our hosts - shrimps 'n' all! Todd and I set up the gazebo, barbie and sofa in the back yard, whilst Steve used his culinary expertise to create some salads in the kitchen with the girls. It was great to meet some new friends and see Steve enjoy catching up with old ones.

A taxi across town would probably have cost a small fortune, but we were in luck as another of Steve's friends, Jack, kindly offered to take us over to Tamsin and Chris' apartment.

After another sleepy greeting - this time from my brother-in-law, Chris - we were grateful for the chance to lie down and get some rest before the big event the next day: the Grand Prix.

I awoke the next morning, half expecting to be clambered on by my nephew and niece, after all, that's what Archie and Ella always do - but their flight ordeal the previous day had left them so shattered that they slept in longer than me. After saying a proper hello to Tamsin and Chris, I went to get revenge and jump on them instead!

Soon we were all up, washed, dressed and ready to go to Albert Park. As we wondered past a multitude of trendy looking coffee shops and patisseries, Archie told me about his progress on the Wii since I'd last seen him and Ella skipped along beside us (for approximately two blocks until she was tired and needed a piggyback!). It was great to be back with the family.

Inside the park there was a great atmosphere; Archie and Ella enjoyed the Pixar Cars themed kids' area, whilst the four adults found the food and bar more to their taste. We located a good spot to perch ourselves, opposite a screen and on a corner so that the cars didn't just scream past at two-hundred miles an hour!

We watched various support races and displays, until finally it was time for the big event. However, as the cars came round for their formation lap, I couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. Long gone were the screaming 3 litre V12 engines that I had fallen in love with all those years ago - this year, regulations required a 1.6 litre V6 hybrid version. Instead of a deafening angry roar, I could hear myself talking above the noise of Lewis Hamilton's Mercedes and Jenson Button's McLaren as they sped past. This wasn't how I'd remembered it!

Despite the lack of noise, the race was still a great spectacle. Unfortunately, Lewis had to retire early, but Jenson managed a podium finish.

As we wandered on to the race track after the race, I wasn't sure that F1 had grabbed Archie and Ella in the same way it had done Tamsin and I when we were their age, but they wore their McLaren t-shirts with pride and seemed to enjoy their day, particularly when it was rounded off with an icecream!