When die-hard Formula 1 fan Alice attends the Monaco Grand Prix thanks to a contest she won, she expects thrilling races and breathtaking views, but she never imagines catching the F1 prodigy, Max Verstappen. Amidst the glamour and high stakes of th...
This time, last year, I didn't know what Formula One was. I mean, of course I heard about it before. But I had never understood the hype around this sport. What fun could it be to watch people drive in circles for nearly two hours? Wasn't it repetitive at some point? It seemed extremely boring to me and most of my friends didn't like the sport as well so I never gave much thought about it.
Until a group of friends I met online discovered that they all loved F1 and started talking about it in our group chat. It made me curious. Because of their excitement, I felt like I was missing out. They told me I should watch the Netflix docu-series about it and so I did. I wish now I didn't because in one episode, I was hooked.
I understood that, whilst the actual driving skills were important, the whole sport couldn't just be reduced to that. If anything, it was more about strategy during the whole length of the race. Yes, having the best car on the grid helped, but if you had poor tire management or didn't have the best understanding on when to make a pitstop during the race, you could very well end up on the bottom of the ranking.
And the drama surrounding the management of the team outside of the track was also captivating. The Netflix show sure added drama for those who didn't follow Formula 1 news, but once you did, you realised that there were a lot of news that could make you gasp—such as the silly season when teams and drivers renegotiated their contracts, usually during the summer break.
All my weekends from that point forward were dedicated to racing. In this 2020 year, the world didn't have much to do because of coronavirus and the subsequent lockdowns so I was glad to have this escape. Watching races made my heart speed up. The adrenaline was coursing through my veins with each takeover. My breath stopped during pitstops. And I loved it.
When they announced the public was allowed back for the 2021 season, I immediately looked online for tickets. Watching races on my TV was not enough anymore. I wanted to know and feel the atmosphere surrounding a race. I wanted to be with people who shared my newfound passion for this sport. And I wanted to see all the action with my own two eyes live, not through a screen.
I was torn between going to the French Grand Prix or the Belgium one. I would love to go to my country's Grand Prix, since I am French and there are two French drivers on the grid, surrounded by thousands of French fans. The second one, even though it was in another country, was closer to Paris, to my home. So it was a tough choice. Especially since the Belgian track of Spa-Francorchamps was known as one of the legendary ones in Formula 1, with its Raidillon and the famous Eau Rouge portion where all the exciting action usually took place.
But by the time I had finally decided for Spa and was ready to book everything—a reflexion that only lasted for a week, both events were sold out. Well, unless you counted the very expensive tickets for which I didn't have the money. I may be a fan of Formula 1, yet there was no way I'd willingly pay over a thousand euros just for a ticket. It was almost all of my salary as a journalism intern.
My best friends wanted to buy me those tickets for my 25th birthday since the race would take place the week before, but I couldn't ask that of them—it was too much money for one weekend that I would spend by myself. So we made hard plans to go to a race for the 2022 season all of us together, even though they didn't like the sport. They were sure intrigued by it because of how quickly it took my life over and wouldn't mind getting the cheapest tickets possible to enquire about it.
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Missing the tickets sale didn't stop me from entering contests to win race passes, even though I knew that I was not going to win them. I never had any luck when it came to draws. The only contest I ever won was a drinking contest—and the only souvenir I got as a token of my win was alcohol poisoning for two weeks.
Yet, against all odds, I won. And it was not a simple contest to go and watch the race. No, it was to shadow a French TV journalist and take part in some kind of documentary about F1 and fans, which included an all-access pass to the paddock and the possible chance to meet drivers and team principals. All expenses were paid for, including transport and accommodation, and it was in freaking Monaco two weeks from now.
They called me right before the race in Barcelona started. To think that I had almost didn't answer the call as it was from an unknown number and I usually never answer those... I honestly cannot remember what happened during that race because I was walking on cloud nine.
The first thing I did after the shock settled was calling Lena, my best friend. She squealed into the phone so hard that I feared I might have lost my hearing. But it made me so happy that she was so excited for me even if she did not care one bit about the sport. She decided to pick me up at work the next day so we could go shopping together. Lena said I should look my best, especially if I was going to meet some drivers. I laughed, reminding her that I was not going to Monaco to flirt and, even if that was the case, I would highly doubt that I was going to be interesting for any of them.
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