The Travelling Life of Silvan Colani
March 2002 - Malaysian Grand Prix, Kuala Lumpur
Ever since Malaysia was added to the annual Formula 1 circuit in 1999 did I want to visit
this event - and finally I made it. Apart from Suzuka in Japan, the Sepang Circuit near the
Kuala Lumpur Airport is the closest F1 event to Hong Kong. And what a spectacular circuit
this is! Purpose built for Formula 1 racing with an incredible Grand Stand and one the
widest track of all F1 circuits, this is truly a world-class facility. Touted as "the
hottest race in Formula 1" thanks to 40-degree temperatures and high humidity levels,
the Malaysian Grand Prix is a tough challenge on drivers, cars and tires.
I had the good fortune of being invited to the race by two of my bosses who, through their
connection to the personal cook of Bernie Ecclestone, had obtained Paddock passes for the
main event on Sunday.
But first, on Friday, we went to observe the free practice session. The first time you hear
the roar of an F1 engine it takes your breath away. There is no sweeter music to my ears
than this. A smooth yet cranky roar, rudely interrupted by the clonking sound of changing gears,
it is only surpassed in power by the noise of a departing 747.
We had seats on the Grand Stand at the first corner of the course. By moving to the very
right of the stand we could see the cars approaching the first turn at over 300 km/h and then,
100 meters ahead of the apex, break aggressively and then turn into the double right/left
hander. You then follow the car into the sweeping long turn 3 where the driver accelerates
up through the gears. There were no major surprises during free practice, apart from good
times by newcomers Toyota and impressive performance by Renault.
On Saturday, I joined the Ferrari Club of Singapore back to the track for the official
qualifying. We headed up to Sepang with a yellow F355 and F550, neither of which (sadly)
was driven by me. The qualifying placed Michael Schumacher and JP Montoya on the front row,
promising some action for Sunday's race.
Saturday night (well, actually every night) was party time in Kuala Lumpur. The nightlife of
this city is impressive and the word "lively" doesn't even start to describe it. We were
staying at the Shangri-La Hotel, opposite of which all the happening places are located:
The Beach Club, which for the entire week hosted the "Toyota F1 Rev Party";
Mostesto's, which was the Renault Mild Seven party spot; Nuovo, which was a
mad place full of beautiful people; and a host of other places that were so wild you
would never imagine that you are in a Muslim country. There are also plenty of "al fresco"
restaurants around town, with some excellent places around the "Bangsar" area. All in
all, I was seriously impressed by KL's nightlife.
And so, with a slight overhang, came Sunday - the Big Day. We headed out early, to catch
all the action of the day. With our VIP passes, we headed straight for a morning stroll down
the pit lane, where some of the teams practiced their pit stop routine. The following video
of a botched nose section change at Jordan was an early indicator of more trouble ahead for
the team, which saw its two cars collide in the early stages of the race.
Later we headed into what I would call the F1 canteen, where our friend the Ecclestone
cook was busy serving breakfast to Niki Lauda. That canteen, a little windowless but
nicely air-conditioned room at the end of the Paddock building, was for the day a meeting
point of the who's-who in Formula 1. Jackie Steward, Sir Jackie Steward I should say,
dropped by to trade friendly insults with Niki Lauda. Norbert Haug, Head of Mercedes Benz Motorsports
joined us for an excellent lunch of Austrian-imported beef. Niki
Lauda later gave us a private tour of the Jaguar pits, where you will find more
computer equipment than engine parts. (Jaguar, sadly, failed to finish the race with
either car.)
More familiar faces were to be found in the sweltering heat of the Paddock lane. Racing
drivers and team technicians were darting back and forth and team heads were giving
interviews and having pictures taken. I managed brief handshake with Jenson Button, who
finished an excellent fourth in the race after having had to give up a podium position
very late in the race. I also squeezed into a photo shot with Ralph Schumacher, who later
cruised to a dominant victory. The only thing missing were the "umbrella girls", which I
fondly remember from the Macao Grand Prix. In a statement that clearly conflicts with
my nightlife experience, I was told that this was due to the fact we were in a Muslim
country. One country - two standards, I guess.
And then came the race. Since, ironically, our VIP passes did not actually get us to
a good place to watch the race from, two of us headed out and back to the Grand Stand at
the first corner, for which we still had tickets. The start was pure adrenalin stuff,
although my view was obstructed by all spectators jumping to their feet. Nevertheless,
with Montoya and Schumacher predictably colliding in the first corner, there was plenty of
action. Needless to say, if you want to follow the race, you better stay at home and watch
TV.
We later headed back to the Paddock and I sneaked through the Ferrari garage in order
to join the podium celebration right after the race. Michael Schumacher came in first,
followed by Montoya and elder brother Michael. Back in the pit lane I had a chance to take
a close-up look at Ralph's car. His tires looked like chewing gum. Where there used to
be grooves there was nothing but melted blobs of rubber - the Malaysian heat had clearly
taken its toll.
With the champagne drowned and the crowds filing out of the stands, an eerie silence overcame
the pit lane barely an hour after the last car had taken the chequered flag. The pits,
where teams were frantically changing tires and refueling cars in seconds not long
ago, were already half packed up. Retired cars were brought back and the Ferrari
technicians were shooing away curious onlookers who attempted to take pictures of Barichello's
blown-up engine. The only pit that was in a real party mood were my fellow Swiss at Sauber,
who saw both their cars end the race in the points. Drivers, technicians and Peter Sauber
were having drinks, patting backs and calling girl friends on mobile phones (or maybe
their mothers).
