Monaco Grand Prix diary

Skysports.com's Mike Wise gets up close and personal trackside at the Monaco Grand Prix.

Mike packs up and leaves town as McLaren also try to make a quick escape from the mean streets of Monte Carlo... Sunday
The onus was on Lewis Hamilton to salvage some pride for Great Britain following Engelbert Humperdinck's disappointment at the Eurovision Song Contest but in the event my punt for the race went backwards from third on the grid. Forget love, nothing could set the lead McLaren free - Lewis spending the entire race in the leading gaggle, but suffered yet another tardy pit stop whilst also complaining about some very random things: numbers falling off a pitboard on the start-finish straight at one point as well as a yellow light that kept flashing on his steering wheel. It wasn't a good result for McLaren at all, with Jenson Button retiring and Team Principal Martin Whitmarsh chased down the paddock by reporters after the race to give his take on their latest disappointment before he could seek sanctuary. There was nowhere to hide - neither from the fourth estate nor from a fan drinking in a bar nearby, who afterwards shouted "Oy Martin, give us an autograph for me son. I haven't got a pen though. Have you got a pen?" Credit the beleaguered team boss, he was straight over to make the lad's day. On the subject of cheesy music, the throb of racing engines in a built-up area has not provided the only soundscape here this week. Every day after the on-track action winds itself up, speakers get turned up and Europop blasts - and I mean blasts - out as crowds stand where World Champions have raced. I guess it's something you either love or hate. I'm going to vote with my feet: I'm out of here! Saturday
The clock is ticking ahead of qualifying and drivers and team personnel are heading over from the paddock to the pits, across the bridge at La Rascasse. From our eyrie in the media centre, it's been possible to steal glances of our heroes as they run the gauntlet of fans that line their route this week. Most pass freely but it's a different matter for some. Friday might have been a rest day but the atmosphere around Jenson Button and Lewis Hamilton seemed hectic to say the least, not unlike the opening scene from the Beatles film 'A Hard Day's Night'. Even the passage of ex-drivers gets interrupted: the likes of Jacques Lafitte, David Coulthard, not to mention Sky Sports' own Damon Hill and Johnny Herbert all pose for photos, glad-handing and moving on before the ritual inevitably repeats itself. The old hands appear more relaxed about the whole thing, which stands to reason. Monaco is about being seen and yet seeing famous people deal with fame at first-hand surely does lead a person to wonder how they manage? I remember flying back from Bahrain last month. Jenson Button was on the same flight and in the baggage hall at Heathrow Airport there stood a huge banner advert for a watch - you know the one - featuring...Jenson Button. I'd wager that most of us peering up, bleary-eyed having just collected our bags at dawn would see our pouting mug gazing beatifically back and find the experience quite bizarre. I suppose you get used to it, even at 6am on a Monday morning. The actor Robert Mitchum once said: "The privilege of anonymity is every man's right and gift. But once it's gone - once they've seen that big red Monday morning eye up on the glorious cinemascopic screen in full, red living colour - everybody knows you, and you don't know nobody." Maybe such thoughts were crossing Will Smith's mind as he pressed endless flesh here this afternoon. Friday
This is the second day we get to see racing cars on the streets, except that they're all in support categories. The F1 pits and paddock seem as busy as they did on both Wednesday and Thursday, which suggests that there's still plenty of work to do ahead of the main event - even if the drivers themselves get more of a chance to relax. Space really is at a premium here and it's certainly a case of 'needs must' as far as the paddock is concerned. It's plonked close to La Rascasse corner, on the water's edge and across the harbour from the track's tunnel and chicane. Not that you can really see either - an array of very large, very white and very expensive-looking maritime hardware puts paid to that. It's all a bit cluttered and chaotic, which suggests (to me at least) an innocent explanation for the appearance of the suspect package here which bomb disposal experts obliterated last night. In any case, I'm not sure how many other Formula 1 tracks get covered in cigarette butts and dog dirt. Then again, I doubt there are many Formula 1 tracks which both smokers and canines can get to. Yesterday afternoon I had my chance - a real, bona-fide, genuine privilege this - to get up close and personal, as it were, having gained restricted access trackside to watch the second practice session. What a buzz! I accompanied the journalist Simon Arron and he described it perfectly: total sensory overload. We started at the entry to the swimming pool section, where the speed, grip and direction change of the cars made me wonder how close they come to challenging the natural laws of physics. Curiously, the noise seemed dulled somehow - perhaps that was because the cars were already out of sight and snaking off elsewhere. That certainly wasn't the case in the tunnel, though, where the acoustics were turned up to 11 and made my head shake. Best of all came in between the two: Tabac corner, where it's possible to stand right by the apex of the left-hander as the cars flash past - little more than an arm's length away it seems to me - at 120mph. These are the sorts of memories that linger. Thursday
Visiting Monaco for the first time ever immediately brought two old adages to mind. The first, that cheats never prosper, was prompted by the sight of Flavio Briatore occupying seat A1 on the plane out here. Unlike that one, though, the second, that all the world's a stage, is easily confirmed here. All it takes is one stroll along the harbourfront while casting one's eyes towards the yachts and their occupants. That's if 'yacht' is the correct description for some of the hulks that are moored out there; one or two appear to have the dimensions of naval frigates. Yet whoever occupies these floating palaces clearly does so for a reason other than ego: aside from the Grimaldis, they probably have more space at their disposal than anyone else in the Principality. Monaco is tiny. It's a phenomenon that might have been experienced by anyone who has seen a place for years without actually experiencing it. The three dimensions are somehow compressed and what appears familiar suddenly seems completely new at the same time. Is that really La Rascasse corner there out the window? It seems even tighter - as does the rest of the track. Monaco is the shortest circuit on the calendar but it's actually miniscule, a broom cupboard in comparison to the car park that is the Bahrain International Circuit. The thought that immediately springs to mind is how on earth the drivers manage to hustle their cars around the place. But they do, and they'll be doing it in less than an hour from now...