Celebrating 250 races in the F1 paddock

By the nature of its brief, this column is usually written in the third person. Only where they added substance to text had personal references previously been included, and then only to underscore a particular point.

However, this edition breaks with tradition, for good reason: Silverstone marked my 250th grand prix, and it proved fascinating to compare the different eras then (1997) and now.

Eighteen years separate my first, nervous swipe of a media paddock pass at the 'stiles and my departure from this year's British GP on Sunday evening.

Per chance my first (as media member) and 250th GP were attended at the same venue, while Saturday marked what would have been my father's 90th birthday - and it was he who encouraged me above all to achieve my dream when all seemed bleak, as he did so often during those early days.

Jacques Villeneuve and Williams won Rencken's first grand prix © LAT

I recall that as I entered Silverstone on Thursday July 9 1997 with a 'Bernie Pass' around my neck my overriding thought was that if I failed to obtain accreditation again, I at least held it once.

The turnstile, which allowed access to that hallowed patch that the likes of Jackie Stewart, Niki Lauda and Michael Schumacher bestrode like giants over the years, was eons away from the dusty, rural South African village in which I was born.

Yet, looking back, in so many ways the old chestnut 'the more things change, the more they stay the same' rings utterly true.

Resident then in South Africa and a superfan, I had applied for TV media accreditation for the 1997 British Grand Prix (plus Germany's round) via SABC, for whom I occasionally acted as studio expert on the basis that I had consulted (commercially) to the now-long-gone Arrows team, and thus (allegedly) knew all about Formula 1. It was, as I discovered, a case of the one-eyed man being king in the land of the blind.

A proviso was that I covered my own expenses - which I planned to do by supplying reports to various South African outlets - but I immediately hit F1 politics: a fax sent to the Formula One Constructors Association in Princes Gate, London applying for accreditation was returned with a curt reply requesting that it be addressed to Formula One Management, at the same number!

Little did I know the FIA had decided to hive off the sport's commercial rights to an entity controlled by Bernie Ecclestone, formerly chief executive of FOCA - now a recurring topic in my columns - and that passes would become his control tool. Sunday's vast but soulless paddock was devoid of any festivity after recent clampdowns by FOM on passes - there was simply no comparison with 1997's heaving paddock.

Accreditation in 1997 eventually granted, the abiding memory of that grand prix weekend remains: chaotic traffic, with the journey from London SW2 on race day taking three hours each way, and the media parking area, situated on the outside of the main straight, gradually deteriorating into a mud bath.

Accreditation had been granted in one block for both events, so my next application was for the 1998 season opener in Australia, having been commissioned by SABC to produce a 'Road to Melbourne' documentary to be flighted in the run-up to the race. Due to a contractual wrangle between broadcaster and FOM no accreditation was issued, and the cameraman and I watched the event from Brocky's Mount.

F1 midfield 1997-style: Stewart leads Sauber and Minardi © LAT

Hence I took a decision to in future apply through print media channels, which I did through South Africa's The Citizen newspaper - for which I penned a weekly F1 column - continuing under that outlet until my RacingLines company fulfilled the FIA's news agency criteria.

During those early days cash was tight and income restricted by a small domestic market for race reports; thus I was forced to camp at European circuits when no convenient accommodation was available from friends/family. This I did in 1998 (four GPs) through 1999 (five) to the 2000 French Grand Prix, when at last my budget ran to hotel rooms.

It is a matter of considerable personal pride that I covered all costs - out of proceeds from my efforts - for every one of my 250 GPs to date, having come into F1 as freelancer with no previous journalism experience or F1 contacts to speak of. How that came about is, though, a tale for another day.

In fact, when consulted by folk on how best to break into F1 journalism, I make the point that they should buy a beat-up banger and frame tent, hit the road and bury themselves in sleeping bags under said canvas at campsites filled with rowdy revellers, who pay no attention to a simple scribe battling to sleep after a hectic day's 'work'. Those with visions of limos and five-star hotels soon shy away or change the subject.

As I battled through last Friday's traffic (some took four hours to reach Silverstone from the M1/M40) before being directed onto a wet field, I could not help but reflect that for all the investments made by circuit and authorities over 18 years, little has changed. This was reinforced when, on Sunday evening, it took an hour to reach the M40 after leaving the circuit at 1800, and another two to hit the M25.

Ditto media facilities: Back then fax lines were jammed solid, with attempt after attempt being met by engaged tones; this weekend the telephones were down on Saturday, while internet connections kept dropping out.

Rencken chatting with F1 rookie Kimi Raikkonen in 2001

As for facilities: 1997 - pre-Silverstone Wing - the media centre overlooked the main straight and pitlane on one side and paddock on the other; now journalists stare at screens bordered by blank walls, with not an inch of track to be seen.

Progress?

Indeed, for all its expansion across the globe - in 1997 Malaysia was the last place one could envisage F1 visiting, while Bahrain was simply some desert outpost - there is absolutely no doubt that media facilities have not kept pace, with the excuse being that hosting fees have sucked up all available money.

Yes, the FIA does a sterling job in fighting for media rights, but given the acrimonious relationship between FOM and governing body, compounded by the precarious plights of cash-strapped circuits who face spiralling fees on one hand and dwindling audiences on the other, there is only so much even the most determined media delegate can achieve, particularly where access and passes are controlled.

For example, consider pre-race grid access - crucial not only to catch up on car developments (following Mark Webber's 2013 flying wheel incident pitlane access is understandably restricted), but also to catch the 'vibes' surrounding drivers and teams.

In 2014 the media was initially banned from the grid - ostensibly to reduce numbers - access was partially reinstated only after FIA intervention. All the while, though, children of VIPs prance about the grid.

With few exceptions media centre communication costs remain an absolute rip-off: Until I wrote a strongly-worded letter to Monza's management about media facilities in 2011, the media centre charged £80 for (shaky) wi-fi during grand prix weekends, and supplied only tepid water as refreshment - served in recycled plastic cups.

China's internet connection still comes in at £100 for the weekend - for heavily restricted services that invariably drop out when needed most.

Monza's media centre facilities did not go down well with journalists

The less said about China's media visa regime the better: every year at least one media member fails to make the trip due to delays.

Still, China's normal visa charge is around 50 quid, whereas our Antipodean friends now require working visas for all media members - at about £100 for four days - while India's procedure resembled Delhi's streets: downright messy!

In the nineties visas were generally a non-topic - even for the sole South African on the tour - as 1997's calendar comprised 17 races, five of which were staged outside Europe.

This year's 19-round schedule includes 12 'flyaways', mostly in countries with some form of media restriction. In addition, security considerations mean South Africans are increasingly subjected to visa controls.

When fall-out from the Eyjafjallajokull ash cloud closed European airspace in April 2010, stranding F1 personnel in China, I was hit particularly hard as I was unable to flit out of the country - as dictated by our short-stay media visas - and fly from a convenient location as I did not hold visas for neighbouring states. Thus I was forced to travel to South Africa via India and Dubai at short notice - and horrific cost.

This sealed a decision to apply for Belgian nationality - a move I had increasingly considered after living happily in the country since 2004 and complying with all naturalisation requirements - but all thoughts that such a move would alleviate visa complications have been disabused by increasing restrictions on visa-free travel by most countries regardless of traveller nationality.

Tis indeed strange that countries host GPs as prestige and tourist initiatives, then defeat the objectives by making it impossible and/or too costly to visit. The media corps awaits Azerbaijan with bated breath.

F1's European exodus has, of course, considerably inflated travel costs: where I covered my first full season (2000) on about £3000 all-in, my 2015 travel budget runs in at seven times that despite travelling cheaply but (mostly) cheerfully, and using the likes of Ryanair and AirBnB where possible. Inflation and fuel/security levies have upped prices three-fold, but the rest is down to F1's global creep.

Much of the F1 community was stranded in China amid the ash cloud drama © XPB

Where once the websites I wrote for - without journalism form it was impossible to sell material to print outlets - were non grata in media centres heavily populated by traditional media, over 18 years the mix has changed dramatically, with websites now outnumbering magazines by a factor of three, despite most print outlets also having online presence.

Coupled with the emergence of social media there are seldom 'traditional' scoops to be had: what is whispered by one source is shouted by another within 30 seconds flat.

Every fan with a contact in the paddock has become his own journalist, while emergence of 'news aggregators' - aka vultures - who nick stories, then repackage them (mostly sensationally) and sell them for a pittance are a rather unsavoury side-effect of new media.

Non-grand prix activities have also undergone massive change: where before teams tested non-stop and thus generated column inches, restrictions have largely put a stop to news between events, with interim interest now revolving around the name of Lewis Hamilton's second dog or debating if Ecclestone dubbed F1 a "crap product".

This has further reduced income potential, with commensurate drops in accredited media numbers. When I collected my first 'permanent' pass in 2000 - issued in alphabetical order, so The Citizen was way down the line - it was numbered 243; my last pass in the name of that publication was 139. Thus 100 outlets between A and T dropped out over 13 years. F1's grandstands are not alone in becoming emptier.

Eighteen years and 250 grands prix: those are but bare statistics, for they hide the pleasures of following my overriding passion across the globe as freelancer, of meeting heroes (and more than a few villains).

In 1999, while attending the launch of Stewart Grand Prix's car - lavish launches too, are a long-gone activity - Jackie Stewart addressed a journalist by name.

I recalled when I had first seen him race at Kyalami in 1971, how I was virtually in tears at the sight of my then-hero, how I was devastated when he retired, and that cold winter day at the Birmingham NEC I prayed that one day he would know my name too.

In Monaco six-odd years later I was rewarded by his greeting, and that alone made every night spent in a tent worth every sleepless moment.