On TV, a single corner of a single track looks pretty boring. Up close, viewed from the grandstands, it’s a kaleidoscope of variety. A ninety-minute practice session flies by in an instant when you’re geeking out on the various approaches to this one single corner. There were rookies with little experience on the circuit, like Toro Rosso’s Daniel Ricciardo, who tried at least five or six different lines before settling on one and perfecting that. There was Michael Schumacher in his Mercedes, who must have driven thousands of laps of Monaco in his long career, and he never wavered a millimeter from his line. There was Fernando Alonso, a fabulous talent in a dog of a car, who produced great times in spite of visibly wrestling with his Ferrari, downshifting twice before the corner (nobody else took Casino like that). There were the poor HRT’s, mostly there to show that there is such a thing as a slow and terrible Formula One car. There was Lewis Hamilton in his McLaren, whose line was fluid and wildly original, completely unlike anyone else’s. Jenson Button, driving the same car, drove an entirely different line, hitting the apex as close to the D of a DHL ad as possible, all with eerie precision.

Advertisement

Then there’s the noise, the crazy, violent noise, which echoes and clatters in the natural amphitheater of Monaco Harbor. It makes you wish you’d brought earplugs and makes you glad you didn’t.

The greatest thing comes in the evening. At 7 PM on each day of the racing weekend, the marshalls open the track to city traffic. Natalie and I raced up to the train station, grabbed her little banged-up Fiat from the parking garage (parking was a reasonable $35 for the whole day), and proceeded to follow in the footsteps of pretty much everyone who’s ever counted in Formula One.

Advertisement

We passed two Ferraris on the start-finish straight in the shadow of the same Mediterranean pines known from countless photos, turned right at Sainte Devote, made the steep climb up Beau Rivage, took a detour at Massenet, then got out of the car to see just how close Button’s McLaren was to the Armco. It wasn’t hard to investigate. Tire marks were all over the place, the closest less than ten inches from the wall, which means that, taking into account the shape of a tire and that of a car, his front wing was barely over an inch from the barrier. On lap after lap after lap.

Advertisement

So it turns out that Formula One is pretty fantastic from up close. And that while Monaco may be a blast from the past, there’s something to be said for watching Formula One cars racing in a city, their exhaust fumes mixing with the riot of scents that’s a late spring day on the Mediterranean. If you’re in Europe next May? Go. Ticket vendor Gootickets is already selling ticket for the 2013 race.

Photos by Mark Thompson and Paul Gilham/Getty Images