The sacred sites of motorsport.
Nürburgring, Le Mans, Silverstone, Laguna Seca. I’ve had them all. Legendary race tracks. But it’s always the same, and – to be quite honest – I loathe those tedious journeys to the sacred sites of motorsport. And then when you get there? That typical split second of happiness. After you’ve been listening to the racing cars for what seems like eternity, the bright spots of light flash past you in a fraction of a second. And the winners? You don’t see them at all, or if you do, then just briefly on TV on the winners’ podium.