Getting into Formula 1

If you have ever been to a grand prix you will understand when I say it is near impossible to get into the paddock. I say near impossible because there are always the footballers (soccer players for the American's reading this), super models, and movie stars who find a way to get into the paddock. For the rest of us, there is simply no way to get in. The paddock, is maintained at the highest level of security. It would probably be easier to get into Fort Knox.

When you arrive on the scene you will notice there is an 8 foot tall fence lining the entire paddock. To the dismay of GP2 driver Bruno Senna, it was easier for a dog to find its way onto the circuit in the path of his car, than it would have been to get into the paddock. There are only a few entry portal's into the paddock and those are guarded by a team of no fewer than five gate officials and two police officers. Unlike other entry points a human does not read your credentials to make sure you can get in, on the contrary it is a mechanised system derived from the Starship enterprise which scans the barcode on your credentials. The wrong credentials and a red light comes on along with a buzzing sound to alert the security officials you need to be escorted somewhere. The proper credentials means a green light comes on and the turnsty unlocks allowing one human being to pass through.

Around this military style gate system are hordes of onlookers milling around to see if perhaps their hero Lewis Hamilton will come through or perhaps a glimpse of the FIA's very own villian Presidente Max Mosely. The only people who get in or out of the F1 paddock are those who are meant to be going in or out of the F1 paddock.

Around the entire fence lining the paddock is is a chain link fence which has guards standing at the critical intervals. Occasionally onlookers will peer through the fence and try to see what lies within the confines of the F1 statofortress. For those willing to peer over the fence they are met with glimmering colours of F1 teams in an incredible array of team and sponsor hospitality areas.

While the entire weekend at the Silverstone Grand Prix was truly a fantastic one, the only thing left for me to do was to get into the paddock (aside from of course racing an F1 car). I had no idea how I was going in and when I tried my British Racing Drivers Club pass the red light signalled I would not to be proceeding. A heck of a system which won't even permit the 'owners' of the ground the paddock is built on entrance!

After a chat with the security officer who then arrived on the scene it was made well clear the access gates were not my way in. Not to be detered I continued my single-minded mission to get in to F1. The process took quite some time but I recognized a weakness in the system. There was a way in and I was going to make use of it. Although I certainly will not reveal the weakness in the system otherwise it might be fixed by next years race! It has been an age old battle since the inception of motor racing cars between organizers and racers of who can get the better of the rules and this particular day would be mine.

As I climbed down from the fence the world of Formula 1 unfolded before me. The F1 paddock emerged as a 'whose who' of business and sport united in to one by the most amazing extravegence of money I have ever witnessed in my life. Apparently from an unseen crevass in the earth the McLaren, Ferrari, and other team's hospitality suites rose up (which most likely by happen chance were excactly the width of three or four lorries parked next to each other) and then grew to three levels in heigth. The construction of each building was different but the materials ranged from mirrored glass to space aged plastics as well as a number of composites of unobtanium (a technical term used to describe materials which can only be created in a workshop on the planet Uranus).

Inside the paddock were all the faces you are used to seeing on TV, but simply assume don't exist in real life. David Coulthard and Kazuki Nakajima were hanging about while Ferrari Star Felipe Massa was hidden deeper in the confines of the Ferrari hospitality area, certainly a complex I would not dare push my luck on any further. Outside in the main walkway Speed TV commentator Peter Windsor was in the middle of a broadcast. Once the tape had gone off I stopped by to have a quick chat and introduce myself. Shortly thereafter one of the green and greener clad Honda team members stopped by to have an intimate chat where by the look on Peter's face I am sure the ingredients of McDonald's secret sauce was revealed or perhaps an explination for Ruben's podium finish.

After a few more minutes of checking about I had to devise my exit, because just as the entrances are monitored the exits are monitored as well. I found a hardly guarded bridge which passed over the front straight as my escape points. With only a few guards manning the exit I waited until their attention was diverted and I made a hard line for the exit. By the time they looked up and saw me passing through the "I'm not messing around" look on my face quelled any questions I am quite sure!

So many people have told me it is impossible to get into Formula 1. I say, it might be not be easy, it certainly might not be a smooth path, but it is possible.

Wishing you all the best!

Michael