on my first formula one weekend
an experience that was damn shiok sia!
i’m not a hardcore motorsports fan. i mean, i know the basics like every other bitch who’s watched drive to survive—hamilton’s a legend, verstappen has daddy issues, riccardo’s smile is his entire face—but it was only when i placed last in an indoor gokart race in jersey when i understood the concept of motor racing, and that driving for speed is really stressful, and really really hard.
since i hopped on the f1 bandwagon at the end of 2021, i had dreamed of attending a grand prix, to feel the roar of the cars speeding past, the applause in the stands, the victory spraying out of champagne bottles…
…so on the weekend of september 21st, i ticked something off my bucket list: i went to the singapore grand prix.
what’s up with dear ol’ marina bay
on race weekend, marina bay, a place i’ve frequented since it opened in my adolescence, transformed into urban, futuristic, and primal energy. she flaunted her grandiosity despite the putrid heat and humidity, attracting world class musical guests and overflowing with singapore’s best and tastiest offerings: a sensory experience for the ages.
the street circuit is an interesting phenomenon, because of how much work goes into it for just a three-day affair. traffic is rerouted to the island’s ends, high-voltage light fixtures are erected, fans in orange and red and black polos crowd barriers to catch glimpses of their favorite drivers… and yet, as a spectator, the chaotic rush on TV was invisible. everyone on the paddock seemed to know exactly where they need to be and got there in a calm efficiency, like a very well-dressed ant colony.
the extraordinary experience
the sondakh household is split on f1 alliances—ma likes leclerc (ferrari) for his boyish charms, pa likes verstappen (red bull) for their shared dutch roots, and i have my heart stolen by lewis hamilton (mercedes) and his dog roscoe.
so when i was extended an invitation to visit and observe the inner workings of the mercedes garage… how could i refuse?
touring the garage felt like stepping into a spaceship where totto wolf was head alien, towering over everyone. us visitors were largely ignored by the engineers & mechanics hard at work for the qualifying round later that afternoon, so i felt self-conscious about my wide-eyed wonder, marveling at something they do every weekend… being physically in the thing i’ve studied through the netflix pixels in my living room felt as though i was in the bowl swimming with the goldfish.
though photos aren’t allowed, the garage is where you see how intense the sport really is: every second counts, everything is analyzed—even the petroleum composition expelled from the cars during free practice rounds—and the garage is organized in a scheme so efficient that it makes my desktop filing system look like child’s play.
after leaving the garage, i caught glimpse of 13 drivers (!!!) and took this selfie with a frowny nico hulkenberg (haas). he placed 6th in qualifying afterwards.
who i saw at the pit, with photo evidence, i swear—
mika hakinnen (ex-mclaren world champion), pierre gasly (alpine), nico hulkenberg (haas), esteban ocon (alpine), valtteri bottas (sauber), kimi antonelli (mercedes), carlos sainz (ferrari), charles leclerc (ferrari), sergio perez (red bull), lance stroll (aston martin), mick schumacher (mercedes), george russell & lewis hamilton sitting in their car (mercedes)
the big day
race day was hot… like really really hot. it was humid and sweaty and sticky in all the wrong places, so much so that every time i left the comforts of my air-conditioned suite, i may as well have washed my hair in sweat.
there was a weird stillness during countdown, as if the world slows down just before the lights go out. then, a visceral scream, and a chest-rattling sensation that sent my ears ringing through nightfall.
while the cars ran their laps around marina bay, cocktails are drunk, contacts are exchanged, hands are shaken. f1 is among the biggest deal-making weekends in singapore, so celebrities and business owners and C-suite professionals flock into the paddock and brand-sponsored suites just to catch a glimpse of a transaction, or the sprinklings of one, all with the grand prix’s vibrancy in the background.
though i intended to watch the qualifying round, i ended up spending most of my time in the suite, talking and networking in the luxury of air conditioning. i was so caught up in conversations that i ended up watching the youtube recap the next morning!
i rubbed shoulders with an eclectic crowd, collecting and trading name cards like pokemon. it was the most literal manifestation of “work-hard, play-hard” i’ve ever witnessed in my two year-long professional life.
the weather was kind to singapore that evening, with a nice breeze to soothe the horrid humidity. so, i ventured to the turf-lined rooftop that housed pop-ups of the city’s michelin-rated bars and restaurants, as well as an unobstructed view of the pit straight and garages. i witnessed tyre changes and pit stops while feasting on foie gras—something i undoubtedly could never do from home.
then when lando norris crossed the 🏁 checkered flag 🏁, the pit straight burst into fireworks, igniting singapore skies in the teams’ different colors. and i had the opportunity to watch them from the roof, which offered a sensational view of the multicolor parade.
now that marina bay circuit has returned to regular ol’ streets and the cars are shipped off to austin, i’ve come out of race weekend forever changed. not only will i be switching alliances from mercedes to ferrari next year, but now that i’ve rubbed shoulders with nico hulkenberg, haas has found itself a new fan.
thank you for stopping by,
<3 tasha
ps: i hope this cup of tea made up for my hiatus! xoxo ☕️
We are so back