Is it really true that this year marks the 20th anniversary of the first Bahrain Grand Prix? Holy moly, I know I like speed, but the years are zipping by faster than Andy Green in Bloodhound SSC…
The only deserts I had been to previously were the Sahara back in 1981 for a couple of car launches; the Bonneville Salt Flats (that same year); and Nevada’s Black Rock Desert playa.
They ran very fast cars on the latter two venues and each still remains for me an intensely spiritual place. But a race track right beside a sand-dune desert in the (to me) unchartered territory of the Middle East?
That was going to be like Zandvoort by the seaside in the old days, wasn’t it? Slippery as hell…
I thus went there more out of the sense of duty of one who didn’t miss races, rather than as a grown-up with an open mind and an adventurous spirit.
And, deep down, I was pondering the suspicious question of just what the Middle East knew about motorsport.
And guess what? It was really hot! Especially if you ventured out of the air-conditioned press room. In practice on Friday afternoon, and again in qualifying on Saturday, the track temperature peaked at 51 degrees C.
The air temp nudged the dials between 32 and 34 degrees – and trust me that was hot enough. It was even harsher if you went out onto the 3.366-mile track, which seemed to fold back on itself rather a lot and get quite sandy and slippery – but was actually pretty good.
Sakhir was the work, like so many tracks back then, of Hermann Tilke, who had designed it while simultaneously drawing up Malaysia’s Sepang circuit. Think about that for a moment…
It was built on the site of a camel farm and the Sakhir oasis, and according to legend some 60,000 tonnes of Welsh granite had to be imported for the construction. Each decorative palm tree cost in the region of $2000. Apparently, though the sun would have rendered me too delirious to have counted them all myself, there were at least five thousand of them.
It was about a 40-minute drive out of Manama, the capital city of the Gulf Kingdom and a most elegant one at that. And as we neared Sakhir the buildings rose spookily out of a dust cloud on the horizon, but the whole place was undeniably impressive. Clearly, the investment had been massive. And, of course, Bernie Ecclestone loved that.
It was the perfect means not only of championing just what an international series F1 really was but also tweaking the noses of those European circuits whose arguments of impunity he had long tired. Here was an excellent way to fire a warning shot across their bows, and to remind them that the sport did not necessarily have to remain firmly entrenched in either its old ways or its old venues.
ALSO READ: F1 drivers call for more checks after drain cover incidents
Amazingly, the whole place had been built in just 18 months which, when you took into account the conditions in which the constructors must have worked, was simply incredible. An extraordinary example of what could be achieved with will, funding and organisation.
Perhaps fittingly, given the team’s legendary status and heritage, the first Grand Prix in the Middle East saw Ferrari score a 1-2 with Michael Schumacher narrowly leading Rubens Barrichello home, and Jenson Button bringing his BAR-Honda to the final podium slot. The race was adjudged a great success and later received an FIA award as the ‘Best Organised Grand Prix’ of 2004.
It wasn’t until four years later, in 2008, that things… matured. I matured. There was some sort of motorsport conference in the week preceding that season’s Grand Prix, at which I was part of a discussion group.
It was a funny old week. The president of the FIA was rather in the spotlight over something or other, but of rather greater concern to me was the message on arrival at the airport that our friend the Scottish racing driver David Leslie had just been killed in an air crash. I confess that I was not at my best in such circumstances and came close to embarrassing myself in public at times, and not just while I had been writing his obituary.
But curiously that was when Bahrain really clicked for me, despite the wretched moments. Or perhaps because of them. Distractions were welcome, and there were many interesting Bahraini figures to chat with at the seminars. They were warm, friendly characters, and we all made some good friends that week.
I guess I had been divested of my remaining preconceptions – or maybe I’d just grown up a bit – but I suddenly felt open to all sorts of new experiences, and as I spent quite a lot of time watching people, and absorbing things, I came to make that key realisation.
They loved their motorsport every bit as much as we did!
Not only that, but the organisers were determined to make this race one of the best, and nothing seemed too much trouble to them. It never has been.
ALSO READ: Verstappen wins in Hungary as Red Bull makes F1 history
The press room has always been a cool and much-needed oasis of calm, while the paddock has always been one of my favourites, with its palm trees, its shady pitstop points, the way you can sit up at one of the team hospitality areas, chatting away with whomever while watching the world go by…
Or stuff yourself and jaw away under the fading light at the welcome foodfest. It has its own unique aura.
For the first time in 565 races, I missed some Grands Prix during Covid, and somehow it was fitting that my return in 2022 should occur in Bahrain, where several lengthy chats under the paddock sun had the same effect on my morale as if a red carpet had been laid out especially for me.
Twenty years ago F1 went to both Bahrain and China in the same calendar year.
As my colleague Adam Cooper once pointed out, in the previous 30 years it had only gone to four completely new venues: Japan in 1976, Australia in 1985, Hungary in 1986 and Malaysia in 1999.
As part of the drive to globalise F1, the Bahrain Grand Prix proved a major step in the right direction, and the prototype for other countries with no experience of the sport to spread their own wings.
And the relationship has worked to mutual benefit. In times of trouble the race has united Sunnis and Shi’ites because the economy which benefits both needs it – indeed, has thrived and expanded because of it – and today Bahrain’s sovereign wealth fund, Mumtalakat plays an increasingly important role in world finance (not least in F1 through McLaren).
And the groundbreaking Grand Prix itself remains one of the sport’s most popular events two decades on, and an engaging place to kick off each new season. (Formula1.com)
