Speed Reader

The middle part of June was one of those periods where you're even more grateful than usual that someone has seen fit to pay you to go to motor races. First there was Le Mans; a race that, from a journalist's point of view, is exhilarating and exhausting in vaguely equal parts.

Upon returning to England there was just enough time to get the laundry washed and dried - I'd have been screwed if it had rained that day - before getting back into the car and pointing it in the direction of France for the second time in a week. Destination: Magny-Cours.

Contrary to popular opinion, there is a lot to like about the current home of the French Grand Prix. Yes, it is surrounded by cows. But Barcelona's Circuit de Catalunya is surrounded by highways and an industrial estate, and given the choice I know which provides the nicer ambience. (The Barcelona track is saved by the Basque restaurant 15 minutes away that serves cider direct from enormous barrels).

If you don't want to go to Nevers for dinner there are plenty of nice little restaurants and towns tucked away down quiet country roads, while inside the track, the circuit's remoteness proves an advantage in that the paddock is virtually bereft of celebrities, VIPs and other hangers-on, and therefore far more relaxed than Monaco or Silverstone.

Then there's the journey. It takes a road trip into the centre of France to appreciate just how big a country it is, but dotted along those highways are opportunities for some extremely cool sidetrips.

On this occasion, my trip back from the French GP on Monday morning was punctuated with a stop at Domaine Vacheron so that F1 Racing's Bradley Lord and I could load the car with several cases of delectable Sancerre. And a few days earlier, Lord's colleague Stuart Codling and I had made a lengthy detour on our journey down to visit the ghosts at Reims.

Reims - or what is left of it - is simply awesome. After you navigate your way on to what was originally the start/finish straight, the first hint that you're on an old race circuit comes when you pass a couple of small concrete bollards, almost hidden in the long grass by the roadside, and painted with fading BP logos.

Moments later, the decaying grandstand looms into view. It's just as well there's nothing to hit around there, because for a few moments your attention wavers completely from the road ahead.

Faded glory rarely appears more exquisite than this, and it's no surprise that a Reims shot was selected to adorn the cover of 'Autodrome', a book exploring and revisiting the tracks of Europe's racing past.

Truth be told, I approached this book with a touch of trepidation. I think its basic premise is really good, but then I also thought that about another offering from the same author titled 'Unraced', where he traced the stories of some of the F1 cars that never actually made it to the grid. That book proved to be a disappointment - a solid idea let down by poor execution. This one, I am happy to say, is considerably better.

Collins has selected nine obsolete European tracks for examination, ranging from the obvious (Reims, AVUS, Monza's banking) through to the obscure (the Nurburgring south circuit, for example. Or Keimola. And to answer your next question, the latter is in Finland).

The tracks' heydays are pieced together using both modern resources and contemporary accounts, and are then followed up with a visit to the sites to find out what has happened since the circuit was decommissioned, and what visible relics are left as symbols of the past. It must have been a hell of a lot of fun to research and put together.

My only complaint is an occasional tendency for the book's unashamed romanticism to veer into the realm of cliche - there's a limit to how many times you can refer to Monza as a 'cauldron of speed'

Perhaps upstaging the words, though, are the images. There is a fantastic collection of shots of the tracks during their glory years, as well as copies of posters and programme covers from events. But the stars of the whole thing are the gloriously atmospheric images taken specifically for the book by Gavin Ireland, who apparently went on to win a photography award for his efforts. If the creative, evocative shots in this volume are anything to go by, he was a deserving recipient.

Also during the Magny-Cours weekend, McLaren launched their officially endorsed 'McLaren: The cars 1964-2008'. Written by William Taylor, the book represents as virtual tour of every model of car that has ever been branded with the McLaren name, and until you flick through its pages, you don't realise just how many that is.

It perhaps lacks a touch of the polish that you expect from things that carry official McLaren approval, but they would probably argue that it is a book designed to be read rather than parked on a coffee table for admiration from afar.

Certainly, a lot of work has gone into it - extensive histories, technical specifications and bespoke studio photos are provided for each car, as well as chapter introductions from various leading lights in the company's history, including Ron Dennis, Niki Lauda, Alain Prost and Lewis Hamilton. If you are a McLaren nerd, this is all of your dreams condensed into 300 pages.