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British Grand Prix diary

Skysports.com has the washing machine on after returning home from the British Grand Prix...

Skysports.com has the washing machine on after returning home from the British Grand Prix...

Monday 'After the Lord Mayor's Show comes the dust-cart' so the proverb goes, but it wasn't that bad in the end on Sunday night. Certainly by the time we stragglers departed Silverstone at 9pm there were no problems getting out, and there was no word of any real difficulties from earlier in the evening. The weather continued to tease us, so that after all the chaos seen earlier in the weekend - all the queues, the mud, the confusion, the wild speculation, the finger-pointing, the standard-issue apology and the contingency plan - the main event took place in warm sunshine. Not that anyone was complaining - bar, perhaps, teams that might have gambled on yet more rain. It returned soon enough and later in the day even the press room was not immune from a soaking. Yes, a leaking ceiling hardly compares with the Somme-like conditions some had experienced but it did seem apt. "At last, we feel your pain Silverstone," someone shouted as a litter bin was thrust under the seepage. Successfully locating one's sense of humour tends to be a good way to dealing with adversity and it's a maxim that was seen again and again throughout the weekend. I'll leave the last word to Stefano Domenicali who, like just about everybody, could only marvel at the fans' attitude. Were the same thing to happen in Italy, the Ferrari boss reckoned, they would more likely "stay in bed". As weekends go, it was particularly busy and there's certainly no let-up. If anything, the season is about to get even busier, with the British Grand Prix the first of three races to be held in the space of four weekends. Red Bull and Ferrari are the teams to beat at the moment; evidence, perhaps, that a pattern is finally beginning to emerge? Black clouds continue to hover over McLaren and the likes of Lotus and Sauber were quick at the weekend. But what use is a quick car when you can't make the best use of it? If only the answer were that simple. Right, time to put the laundry on. Sunday morning Heading in this morning, one wonders how many fans here this weekend will head home with a case of trench foot. Our route was a little different to that taken on Friday and Saturday, in that we chugged through Silverstone village this time. It seems the sort of that place might crop up in the property section of a broadsheet newspaper 51 weeks of the year; sleepy-looking with rows of cottages and a village butcher's shop. No Tesco Express in sight here. Come the week of the Grand Prix, though, and the juxtaposition is quite something: the faint whiff of English rectitude mixing the stronger scent of Castrol R. Not that there's a battle going on: from the chequered flags proudly displayed about the village sign on in, Silverstone gets behind its big event and it is this embrace that led me to marvel once more at what a stoic bunch us Brits really can be. As you can imagine, conditions at the village campsites did not appear to be their most pre-possessing at 6.30am. The sun was not shining - the sky was so drab it made a mockery of the date, July 8th for heaven's sake - yet the same spirit of gameness and good humour shone through. A punter at the entrance to one site guffawed as his stout shoe became wedged firmly in the quagmire while, further down the road, fans ate breakfast at a stall set up in someone's front garden. Sky Sports F1 had no option other than to join in the spirit of things a little while later when, turning the final roundabout on our way into the track, we became stuck in the mud ourselves. A group heave-ho of the mini-bus saw us on our way, but it was touch and go for a while. Perhaps it was our red, white and blue shirts; perhaps it was simply the 'Britishness' of the weekend and all that entails, but I was minded of the final scene from The Italian Job. You know the one. The tide seems to have been turning since Friday's near meltdown. Certainly there was no problem getting back to Northampton at 8pm last night - the A43 (which is barred to all but Grand Prix and local traffic) was close to empty by that time. The biggest test is yet to come, of course, but the tide of opinion also now appears to be on Silverstone's side. Fundamentally, the problem has been beyond their control; even Bernie Ecclestone has acknowledged that. Mistakes will have been made but that's what human beings do. Learning from them is the important thing. Friday What a joy it is to be back at Silverstone! The home of British motorsport and, arguably, ground zero for an industry that does this country proud. A place that has, to a greater or lesser degree, inspired many of us: that first experience of seeing the world's best in action at just the right time in one's formative years can have a profound effect, can't it? It's probably the same for a lot of people around here. I certainly hope it is. It's a place that inspires passion and that comes as a relief. It's not a prince's plaything, a government folly or a poseur's paradise. It's real and it happens for the right reasons. It's real all right. I'm sure plenty of people right now are thinking it's a real pain in the backside as well. As everyone knows, the day was an absolute stinker weather-wise; what's more, there's a very good chance there's even more to come. The rain arrived during the night and by the time we turned up at about 7.30am, there was already an inkling of what was to follow, with heavy traffic forming at the main gate even then. Thoughts inevitably turned towards the campsites; those Glastonbury-style flags and pennants that flew so proudly on Thursday were now looking distinctly sorry for themselves. With next to nothing happening out on track, the day's first irony unfolded: that too much was happening (albeit too slowly) elsewhere. Would-be spectators stewing outside Silverstone's perimeter fence, in other words. That became the story, with tales of horrendous traffic jams emerging; of cars being abandoned and police breaking windows in order to deal with them. The problem apparently boiled down to a glut of fans arriving at the campsites on spec, and yet having nowhere to pitch up owing to the conditions. Alas, the British passion for F1 does not dovetail at all well with our godawful weather. Remember the mess that unfolded on race day in 2000? Fingers crossed we're not getting a repeat. A damp squib, then, for the spectators who actually managed to get in. And yet another irony was to present itself: the rain actually eased by the time second practice finished and, lo and behold, the sun was out soon afterwards. The weather gods were now playing tricks on us. Thanks for that. The latest news is that Silverstone are strongly discouraging those with public car park passes from making the trip on Saturday, whilst unused tickets for Friday and Saturday will also be refunded. We struck lucky - very lucky I think - with the traffic heading back this evening and, fingers crossed, it won't be as bad tomorrow. The alarm is set for 5.30am - a very early start just in case.

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