Bahrain. It has sand, a motorway-flat horizon and rain on roughly four days a year. So when Formula 1 announced a Bahrain Grand Prix, I assumed we'd get a procession of cars going round in the sun while everyone tried to stay awake Instead we got thunderstorms, a software meltdown, a tyre blunder of historic stupidity and a Ford-powered Red…
Spa-Francorchamps. Seven kilometres of tarmac that somehow has its own weather system, its own religion, and its own way of making grown men in fireproof suits look silly. This weekend it did what it always does — handed out chaos like it was going out of fashion. Kimi Antonelli walked off with win number six and a fatter championship lead,…
Ah, Monaco. The crown jewel of Formula 1. Sun-drenched streets, superyachts, celebrity cameos (yes, Kim Kardashian was there, because of course she was), and — if you're Charles Leclerc — yet another opportunity to be absolutely betrayed by your own car while the entire principality watches in stunned silence. If there's a more poetic form of torture than being a…
Monaco has always been Formula 1's annual exercise in controlled madness. The streets are narrow. The barriers are close. The yachts are expensive enough to fund several small countries. And every year we are told that qualifying is everything because overtaking is about as easy as parallel parking a cruise ship. Then Monaco 2026 arrived and decided that what the…
