The scanner chirped. My photograph appeared on the screen, followed by a green tick. The barrier opened and, with a few steps, I crossed into a world millions of Formula 1 fans never get to experience.
This was my third British Grand Prix as accredited media, so I thought I knew what to expect. The crowds. The noise. The constant buzz around Silverstone.
Instead, what caught me off guard was how much bigger the event had become.
I didn’t think that was possible.
Then 564,000 people arrived over four days, a record attendance for Formula 1 and proof that Silverstone is still growing.
As I walked through the paddock, rows of team hospitality buildings stood ready to welcome guests. It was calm. In a few hours, those same walkways would be filled with drivers, engineers, broadcasters, celebrities, photographers and journalists, all moving from one commitment to the next.
This year, I found myself looking beyond the racing.
Maybe it was because this was my third visit. The novelty of being inside the paddock had worn off just enough for me to stop looking at the famous faces and start noticing everything happening around them.
I started paying attention to the people, the planning and the precision that keep Formula 1 moving.
Before the first interview, photograph or press conference, my day always began the same way: a scan of the media bulletin board and my email inbox.
The FIA timetable outlined everything happening on and off the circuit, while teams posted their daily schedules on the media bulletin board. Formula 1 media and individual teams also sent invitations to interviews, hospitality events and activations directly to journalists.
Before writing a single word, I already knew where I needed to be, which stories I wanted to chase and even had possible headlines running through my mind.
It didn’t take long before I found myself moving to Formula 1’s pace. Finish one assignment and another was already waiting.
Most Formula 1 fans know the cars roll away on time on race day. Lights out is scheduled to the minute, and the sport rarely misses it. What they may not see, and what I didn’t fully appreciate until I was on the inside, is that the same level of precision runs through the entire weekend.
Standing beneath the podium after the trophy presentations, I watched VIP guests politely ushered away as preparations began for the next stage of the afternoon. Accredited media were given a little longer, but even our access came with a deadline.
Every area had its allotted time. Every person had somewhere to be. As one moment ended, another was already beginning. Personnel appeared exactly when they were needed, quietly keeping everything moving. It reminded me of watching a theatre production between scenes. The audience only sees the performance. Behind the scenes, an entire team makes sure the next act starts exactly when it should.
The garages were no different.
Watching pit-stop practice was one of the highlights of my weekend.
On television, you see a two-second tyre change.
Standing a few metres away, you appreciate the hours of repetition behind it.
Nobody shouted.
Nobody needed to.
Every mechanic already knew where to stand, what to do and what came next.
The more I watched, the more I appreciated the people behind it all.
Thousands of people, all doing their jobs with incredible precision, keep Formula 1 moving.
That thought stayed with me when I returned to the media centre.
Looking out over the pit lane, I watched television crews preparing for another live broadcast. Camera operators moved from one section of the grandstands to another, encouraging fans to wave flags before turning the cameras towards them. The excitement wasn’t being created. It was already there. They were simply making sure viewers at home felt part of it.
I was watching one of the biggest live productions in sport.
Broadcasters, photographers, journalists, camera operators, PR teams, security, marshals and mechanics. Everyone had a role, and everyone knew exactly what it was.
Sitting in the media centre later that afternoon, surrounded by journalists writing in different languages, I realised we were all doing the same thing.
Whether for television, newspapers, websites or social media, we were trying to make one of the world’s most technical sports understandable for our audiences.
Formula 1 wasn’t the only performance taking place that weekend.
Even away from the racing, the British Grand Prix is a festival with something for everyone.
While one team of people worked behind the scenes to keep Formula 1 running to the minute inside the paddock, another worked just as hard to keep the rest of Silverstone alive.
Hosts kept the energy high on stages across the venue. DJs entertained the crowds between on-track sessions. Venue staff welcomed and guided thousands of fans around the circuit, while food vendors, exhibitors and activity teams ensured there was always something to see, do or experience. Live music, fan zones, simulators, show cars, interviews and exhibitions meant the entertainment never stopped, even when the cars were back in the garages.
Like everything else I’d seen that weekend, it all looked effortless. It wasn’t. It took another team of people working behind the scenes to make it happen.
I also appreciated how much thought had gone into the fan experience.
Television viewers might occasionally catch a glimpse of the area where drivers stop for selfies and autographs before heading into the paddock, but what you don’t see is everything happening around it.
Fans with inner-track access often arrive hours before the drivers, patiently waiting behind barriers for the chance to see their favourite driver or team principal. Some position themselves beside the clearly marked parking bays, hoping to be the first to photograph a driver arriving. Others wait by the entrance where many stop to sign autographs or pose for selfies before disappearing into the paddock.
It would be easy to think they’re simply standing there waiting. They’re not.
A team keeps the atmosphere alive throughout the day. A DJ keeps the music going, hosts interact with the crowd, prizes and merchandise are handed out at random, and every now and then excitement ripples through the crowd as another familiar face appears. By the time the drivers arrive, the energy is already there.
Elsewhere around the circuit, the larger fan zone near the main stage offered simulators, interactive experiences, live entertainment and activities throughout the weekend, ensuring there was always something happening between the on-track sessions.
Even without inner-track access, fans still had the chance to see some of Formula 1’s biggest names. The road into the circuit passes the main fan zone, where fans line the roadside hoping to catch a glimpse of drivers, team personnel or familiar television faces as they make their way to the inner track. If you were lucky, you might even spot Martin Brundle weaving through the crowds on his scooter.
There was always something going on.
That was true for the fans, and it was true for me as well.
One evening I attended an event at the Glenmorangie House, where David Coulthard welcomed guests as the brand celebrated its Formula 1 partnership. Although I don’t drink, I genuinely enjoyed learning about the history and craftsmanship behind the whisky. Coming from Barbados, the birthplace of rum, I found that particularly interesting. By the time guests began making their way out, I was already heading across the paddock to Cadillac’s Independence Day celebration.
That was the weekend. One event finished and another was already starting.
Even on race day, the chequered flag didn’t signal the end of the production.
While fans outside the paddock continued celebrating, I was about to witness another side of Formula 1 that most viewers only ever catch a glimpse of on television.
Following the post-race press conference, media were allowed back into the pit lane for Ferrari’s team celebration. Standing just metres away, I watched Charles Leclerc and Lewis Hamilton join their team as the celebrations got underway.
The champagne started to spray.
Every camera immediately turned towards race winner Leclerc. Broadcasters, photographers and journalists moved instinctively with him as he and Hamilton (P3) tried to dodge the champagne. Then, as both drivers made their way to the fence separating the paddock from thousands of jubilant Ferrari supporters, the entire pack changed direction again. Lewis climbed the fence first to acknowledge the fans before Leclerc followed moments later.
From where I stood, it looked like chaos.
It wasn’t.
Nobody shouted. Nobody pointed. Everyone just knew where they needed to be.
Within minutes, it was over.
Confetti still covered the pit lane.
The celebrations had barely ended.
Already the trucks were rolling back towards the garages.
The show was over.
The work had already started again.
Standing there, I found myself smiling. Not because I was standing close to Formula 1 drivers. Because I’d spent four days appreciating the people who make all of this possible.
Growing up, Formula 1 was always about the drivers.
After four days at Silverstone, I left talking about everyone else.
The mechanics, the engineers, the PR teams, the broadcasters, the photographers, the marshals, the security staff, the transport crews, and the fans who queue for hours just for the chance to catch a glimpse of their heroes.
They’re the reason weekends like this are possible.
They’re the people I’ll remember most from this year’s British Grand Prix.
