Formula 1 From Below
We took the slow train. Others landed on the helipad.
Guy texts me on WhatsApp - you up for Formula 1 in Japan?
I reply “very.”
Two weeks later -
I wake up in a hotel room in Nagoya, Japan. Room is a big word. “Pod” fits better. But I have a bed, a toilet and a shower, and I don’t need more than that.
We get ready and head to Nagoya’s central station. The station holds more human beings than atoms. Rivers of people pushing in different directions.
We start pushing toward our platform. I see signs: “Extremely crowded due to F1 Grand Prix.”
I remember the “power circle” drills from the army - the team closes you inside a tight circle and you have to break out any way you can.
You need to apply force in a precise balance - enough to move in our direction, but not past what’s acceptable to the Japanese. I learn to calibrate as I go, from the Japanese around me.
We reach our platform - trains toward Suzuka, the town where the circuit is. No room on the express trains.
We line up for the slow local ones. After a few trains we manage to squeeze into one.
People packed to zero space, smeared against the doors from the load.
Then the train stops at the next station and two more get in.
We have about an hour and a half to Suzuka, where we get off and wait for shuttles to the circuit - rumor says the shuttle line takes about three hours.
A British guy in a Formula 1 cap gets ready to get off before Suzuka. We ask him why he’s getting off here. He explains there’s an alternate route - he switches to another train, gets off somewhere else, and from there it’s a 40-minute walk to the circuit.
Sold.
We get off with him and a few others and switch trains. Another half hour ride, then off the train and walking.
After about half an hour of walking we start seeing cars converted into campers - people who come to sleep in their cars for the race weekend.
We’re getting close to the circuit. I can’t see anything yet, but for the first time I hear the sound of Formula 1 engines live - it’s not the sound of cars. It sounds like fighter jets flying low.
My stomach flips. I have to see what’s making that sound.
We flow inside an endless river of people. We’re two out of about 100,000 arriving at the circuit today. Above us, helicopters filming the race. It’s the largest human gathering I’ve ever been in.
We reach our seats on a bench in the sun. We’re fairly close to the pit exit - I get a decent view of the cars as they accelerate.
In the distance I see the VIP area - right above the garages, dressed in suits, drinking champagne, meters from the drivers and the teams.
The race ends. It was an insane experience.
I hear a helicopter landing - I walk up to the helipad fence with a few other people. I watch a few suits board the helicopter and it takes off. And it repeats, again and again - the helicopters land, collect a few relaxed people, and take off.
My body tightens at the thought of the route we have now, back to the hotel - the walk, the trains, the crush.
I check my phone. How much is a Paddock (VIP) ticket - about $6,000. How much is a helicopter from Nagoya to here - about $5,000.
I tell Guy - this was amazing, but next time I come to Formula 1, it’s helicopter only, VIP only.
Guy laughs. I don’t.