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Pit Stop

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I'm off to Silverstone this weekend, and I can't wait. There is a very special atmosphere about the place which I love, and which I imagine is the very thing that makes Bernie Ecclestone hate it.

One of the defining things about England in summer is the country fair. Whether it is the small affair around the village green or the big county show, the idea is the same. People turn up to trudge around the grass (or mud if you're unlucky) to be entertained and eat food turned out in tented kitchens or fast-food vans.

When it comes to the British Grand Prix, the entertainment is more than a tad better than the average country fair, but a lot of the elements are similar. From car parking in fields to paying a fortune for a dodgy burger, it's just like going to a country show, balloon fiesta or other such English summer madness.

I think that's why the average British race goer isn't complaining too loudly. That sort of service is imprinted on their DNA. It's not the same for Ecclestone, who lives in the rarefied surroundings of corporate grandness. For the beautiful people, Silverstone isn't quite Monaco.

Last year, I had the good fortune to have a pass to the Paddock Club, the hottest ticket at the circuit. I didn't have to bother with burger vans because I was tucking into fine food at the Toyota tent. That's right, the Paddock Club is a tented village at Silverstone, and although I was as happy as a pig in mud, I imagine some higher-end clientele might be allergic to canvas.

Of course, facilities for the teams are far from ideal and the pits are not up to scratch for F1. But the track's owners have plans to upgrade those soon. One thing they are not able to change is the amount they pay to Ecclestone's organisation to hold the event. It's a lot of money, US$22 million, but just a third of the cash that the new Asian and Middle Eastern tracks rustle up annually.

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