Dodgy Business

Mention Paul Ricard, and it triggers precise imagery. The seventies, endless straight, long lens camera, short depth of field. That Marlboro logo is there, living in the subconscious and always the shimmering mirage. The light is magical. Tiny specks emerge in the far distance, snake right, then left, breaking the tow. They burst through the mirage to emerge big, bold in full kaleidoscopic glory. Fantastic.

Before last week I hadn't been to Ricard since 1992, which had been another test. The circuit has not hosted the French Grand Prix since 1990, when Alain Prost won in front of his own fans.

But here, just 36 hours after the flag fell in Barcelona, F1 was on parade. Ricard, these days, is owned by Bernie Ecclestone. If you didn't know, you might guess. The place is immaculate.

You collect an electronic pass as you register at reception, and it controls access to all key areas. It's the same for the test team members who faced a busy four-days in the south of France. Forget to hand in your pass as you leave, and your team is billed 300 euros - probably more than the Easyjet fare to get there in the first place...

But, of course, the serious people arrive in their own jets, because an on-site airport is part of the deal. Wonder what Bernie's landing fees are like? On second thoughts, it's never going to have relevance to me ...

These days the place is known as Paul Ricard HTTT (High Technology Test Track). There are man-made lakes, the perfectly manicured grass stands to attention, the plantings have their own reticulation system, and there are more than 150 possible circuit configurations. I remembered the place as somewhat dog-eared and run down. Some of those you talk to liked it better that way. Too clinical now, they say.

Heikki Kovalainen, Renault R27 © LAT

But it's impressive, too. And, last week, the facilities afforded by Ricard allowed the teams to test for Monte Carlo on Tuesday and Wednesday using the tight 3.9km 2D track layout, then shift to preparation for Montreal on Thursday and Friday, on the fast 1E configuration.

You would struggle to come up with two more diametrically opposed race tracks than Monaco and Montreal, so to be able to test meaningfully at the same venue was highly appreciated as F1 enters its hectic summer phase - we have three Grands Prix in the next four weekends, and two are flyaways.

In most instances, the personnel on duty at Ricard were not the men and women who had been in Barcelona a few hours before. Formula One's main players have independent test teams, and it is only when you leave the Barcelona paddock and arrive to find a replica already set up just five hours round the corner, that the scale of today's F1 truly hits home.

The scene at Ricard was every bit as impressive as the one I'd left behind in Spain. The multiple trucks are parked inch perfect, the telemetry masts stretch up to the heavens, and the hard-working caterers are doing their stuff.

Walk into a team garage and you find the daily schedule in black marker on the whiteboard. A few are in the Hotel du Castellet and can just about walk to the paddock but, for most, the first point of relevance is at the top of the board: "Bus leaves for circuit 0600." The timings are like a military exercise: Breakfast, review of daily running order, video conference with team base, exclusion times for the running of engines, etc, etc.

The circuit opens Tuesday 0900 and everyone is out sharpish, no time to waste. But the region's renowned Mistral wind is not playing ball. On Tuesday, it's strong but gusty and inconsistent.

"Not nice," Ralf Schumacher says. "You know what it feels like when you pass a lorry on a windy day? Well, at 200mph you know a lot more about it. It's moving me a couple of metres across the straight."

Monaco, of course, is all about high downforce and strong traction out of slow corners. The teams are all running their wind tunnel's latest iteration of barn door rear wings and trick body flicks. Optimisation of electronic maps and traction control settings is also high on the agenda, and there is Bridgestone's super-soft tyre to evaluate. It will be crucial to the qualifying hour in Monte Carlo.

There's an hour break for lunch, 1300-1400, then it's back on with the job until the chequered flag at 1800. Then it's debrief, another video conference with base, supper, and back to the hotel in time, maybe, for a quick beer and a Skype call home. And then that 0530 alarm call to look forward to. What you don't want is your guy ripping the floor off at 1745.

The Mistral is kinder on Wednesday but playful and annoying again on Thursday. Everyone is now in Montreal mode. No longer worrying about the crests and crowns of the Monte Carlo streets, ride heights are lower and the emphasis is on straight-line speeds, braking efficiency, the ability to ride Montreal's kerbs, and sharp, responsive direction changes.

Lewis Hamilton, McLaren MP4-22 Mercedes © XPB/LAT

Driver A doesn't like the front end. But is it the set-up, or is it the Mistral? For every tiny change to the car, the team collect masses of data. They can see the effect on entry and exit speeds, aero balance, centres of pressure and, of course, sector times.

It's easy to understand the young driver dilemma. The new testing rules allow teams to run just one car per day at a test. It's important that the feedback is as good as it can be. Yes, they've got the data, but you also need seat-of-the-pants feel.

Teams have a good idea of the direction they should be heading, but sometimes there's no substitute for experience. It would be nice to give a young upcomer seat time, to bring him on, but you can appreciate the limitations to a test programme.

It does make you wonder about the one car test rule. It was driven by cost-saving and has obviously been formulated by intelligent minds with facts to hand. True enough, you are not wearing out components and you don't have to take as many people, but once you've paid for all the trucks, the circuit fees, the hotels, etc, you do wonder if it's not spoiling the ship for a haporth of tar.

The other thing you wonder about again, quite logically, is the wisdom of all this testing. You know it happens, but seeing it in the flesh just reinforces the point. These guys are professional, dedicated, intelligent, and hard-working. At the end of four days, they have black ringed eyes. And far be it from me to try to do them out of a job. But nobody's watching. Nobody has seen the effort. Nobody is impressed. And nobody is paying.

And of course, the same people and the same cars are quick: Felipe Massa and Kimi Raikkonen in the Ferrari and Lewis Hamilton in the McLaren. Testing would only be relevant if two teams did it and nine didn't. You can easily understand Flavio Briatore's attitude that it's madness.

You also regularly hear Ron Dennis voice the opinion that if the calendar is to grow to 20 races, he is going to need two separate race teams. That amount of time away, he says, would play too much havoc with families. As a long-term employee of 500+ people with a feel for the human side, there's nobody better qualified to comment.

But when you see the test teams in action, too, you realise that two dedicated race teams, hand-in-hand with a cut in testing, would probably present very little problem. The top brains, of course, would have very little holiday.

One other thing struck me last week. On Thursday morning, as teams had their first runs on the Montreal simulating 1E layout, Mark Webber and Scott Speed topped the timing screens for an hour or so.

Scott Speed, Toro Rosso STR2 Ferrari © LAT

Maybe there was nothing in it. Toro Rosso, certainly, had the super soft Bridgestone on at the time and so Speed will have been light on fuel too. You never know what anyone is doing at any particular time either, so conclusions tend to be dangerous. But you did wonder if, in terms of pure aero efficiency, before anyone had had 'fiddling time', the screens were reflecting the hand of Adrian Newey.

By Wednesday and Thursday nights, a Ferrari was at the top - again - and Tonio Liuzzi was at the bottom. So probably there was nothing in it. But I'll still be interested to see how the Red Bull goes in Canada.

It was interesting, too, how quickly James Rossiter got to grips with a Super Aguri in his first test with the team. It brought back Takuma Sato's enthusiasm at the end of the Spanish GP, in which he scored a point. Taku could not believe that Super Aguri, last year's minnows, were fighting on merit with the reigning constructors' champions.

Which, no doubt, is a point not lost on a certain Colin Kolles. But does anyone care what kind of chassis it is? Or do we just want to see better, closer racing, dumbed down so that it's not quite so elitist?

Should we not all be delighted that Taku can mix it with the Renaults? Or does the fact that 'anyone can do it' undermine the very nature of what F1 is supposed to be?

There's still a lot more mileage in this one and you will never get agreement. But, if F1 really wants to curb conspicuous consumption, it needs to decide what it is. Today, those images of the seventies are blurred indeed.