As we left our hotel rooms at the Baglioni Grand in Bologna at 8am, the crew had all the intentions of sobering up after the local councils all night "rave "in the town center. The bus drivers met us with the usual stories of their night in the local truck park, none of which were as interesting as the 5-0 win Holland metered out against meager opposition. So of we went to work, today's task, Heineken Jammin' Festival at the Autodromo Enzo & Dino Ferrari in IMOLA. ....No, it's Massimo, the Italian site co-ordinator, asking us to alight from the coach for Breakfast!!! Well OK we shall, I say, and he points us in the direction of Pit#15 where the local caterer has set up. Astrid, Our German production assistant is there and as we cross the threshold into the garage she barks at the locals to get off their posteriores and serve us.

A quick trip to the toilet was required after suppin the recently brewed café' and to my surprise the pit garages have the old "hole in the ground" traditional southern European style "squatzplatz" ( this has me wondering if the Ferrari garage have such antiquated facilities) so it's down to the sharp end of the pit lane,....yep....holes in the ground....all of them.

Time to get to work now.... or so we think, 9:30am and the stage crew is not ready for any heavy lifting yet and in true British style our boys do it themselves (to the hoots of approval of our Italian stage hands). As the Sun breaks thru the summer morning mist, I'm losing interest in this Rock show, the circuit is calling me .....'Jon,..... come walk me"' So while the locals run circles round themselves trying to organize extravagant things like towels, a telephone, electricity, I send out the call "who's coming with me on a trek around the circuit? "The mass reply was" It's too hot" but there was one, Kleiner, (Natalie Imbruglia's stage sound mixer, who has been on tour with me before and experienced my fanaticism first hand by joining me on various Karting competitions while on tour.)So it off we go, joining the track at the Variante Bassa just behind the huge stage and it's compound, on our way down to the Tamburello.

Our first surprise is just how narrow the start/finish straight is...barley room for 2 cars side by side!!!! The second was the surface itself, not the billiard table smoothness one would have thought 3 seperate distinct layers from inside to outside all of which seem of different quality. hhmmm... As the heat begins to kick in we arrive at the historic corner, turning around first to see the entry,(not as imposing since the"chicane-ary" was put in place) then turning forward to see the now massive gravel trap on the right of the entry of the re-profiled corner.

It is here I go over to see this "River" for which the run off area was always forsaken and to my shock I see a tiny babbling thread of a drip with various rock fans adding to it's volume by dispensing the used portion of the green beer into this sliver of a stream. "Wow" the thought of the Monza banking being knocked down makes me hotter still as the temp rises now to 37ºC but with bottled water in hand, Kleiner and I head past the exit of the second part of the chicane to the point of impact that took Ayrton from us.....The tributes have been many times painted over but yet they all bleed through the haistily whitewashed signage, with the remains of flowers, flags and gifts still visible after years of de-composition, I could not resist adding my own "YOU LEFT US TOO SOON BUT YOUR SPIRIT LIVES IN US FOREVER" I scrawl in English among all the tributes, most in Italian, some in Portuguese. Just visible behind the green tires which form the barrier is the wall where the impact was, originally white, it too has been altered but the tributes center mark out the exact spot. Opposite the point of impact, on the inside of the track is the statue which commemorates Senna, to my surprise it portrays him sitting, head down, shoulders slumped, and my first impression of the sculpture is negative, after staring at it for a while I realized it is of a man who is in a pensive and reflective mood, the same mood of which he was in after the death of Roland Ratzenberger and just 1 day before his own demise.

The temperature is still rising as we cast our gaze down the track towards the next chicane and Villeneuve, the heat haze rising off the Tarmac we opt for a return to the shade and sanctity of our compound and head back towards the tall tower emblazoned with the familiar red and white chevrons just after the start line. During the walk back we see many music fans taking refuge in the shade and peacefulness of the park inside the circuit, it looks becoming but we press on back to base.

Before arriving back at the backstage area and after avoiding the millions of mopeds whizzing around in the paddock we climb the stairs up to the podium (decked out in the sponsors colors for the FIK karting championship) where I re-created the joyous fist/ air pumping reaction Herr Schumi has when he is up there. The music fans have a big belly laugh at my antics, I'm quite glad to give them a giggle(the heat is getting to me).

Upon arrival back at the compound we have an office available to us now so all the mod-cons are at our disposal, telephone, air conditioning but no TV though (I was hoping to have a look at today's 3 World Cup group games) never mind, I have enough on my plate today.

The Production Manager for Tori Amos, arrives and asks whether or not this office is for his use as well?....... 'sure' I say 'come in and cool off, set up this office as if it was your own', (I failed to tell him the reason for my unilateral kindness as I have no intention of being around there today and perhaps he can answer the phone!!) He gets out his obligatory production case complete with Italian adaptors for everything Power, Phone, Fax etc. As an extra measure of goodness I tell him he can "guest" on my laptop to pickup his E-Mails,..........his face lights up, I'm off in search of a moped to 'borrow".

The persons in charge tell me "Under no circumstances may you have one" and it is then I realize that my early morning vocal exuberance has put an end to any chance of getting out on the circuit in something motorized...................But I isn't quitting just yet!!!

I go back in the Production office, make some calls, pick up my E-Mails, Chat to a friend and just as the arrival of Natalie is imminent I go over to the "dressing rooms" which are actually the Race Directors/Timings/Race Control offices under the Paddock Club. I stride in cracking jokes about the FIA/Charlie Whiting, Paddy McNally upstairs............. et al. no smiles though, just blank stares.... "How many towels does Natalie need", Ol'Papa John, the dressing room attendant asks me, 'Just one for her but 34 for her entourage' I Joke, he is not of a humorous disposition as he throws me one small hand towel' No really,...I need 35 towels' I say ,the door to the Bi-Lateral press room slams in my face as he says 'come back in an hour'. So I contemplate the long walk back to the production office, I meet a production runner named Didier, he says he is fed up with the local production team and needs a break........'so have you got a moped to take me back to the office?' "Oh no, no moped, this is my car" as he points towards a clapped out, broken down, circa 1975 Renault4......Hmmmmm. RIGHT 'lets go I say and off we head for the concert compound, when we arrive back at base the goose stepping Astrid informs me that Didier is now at my disposal for any production requirements...'Ok' I say as the cogs in my devious head whirl 'get in the car' I tell Didier, just then we see Kleiner 'get in" I tell him, he looks at me and says" So you have finally done it huh?' 'head for the whole in the fence Didier', 'I do not think we are supposed to go on the circuit 'our fine Frenchman says 'Oh it's fine.. I've made special arrangements' Lying thru my teeth I am at this point but I don't care .....I'm on a mission and nothing but nothing will.......¿What's this? 5 policemen at the exit of parc-ferme in front of a huge fence....oh dear, so near but yet so .....HUH?

As the car trundles up toward the fence the cops page the fence open like waves parting in front of Moses. So here we go, as we pass under the timing gantry, at the start of the lap from Manna, we head down toward Tamburello for the last time with Didier knocking the cobwebs out of the old panel shifter. 'Take all the curbing ' I urge and upon the exit of this section we see some fans gathered around the Senna tributes, on their knees praying (or looking for something lost in the kitty litter) It's all a blur now, as we reach 45mph through Villeneuve approaching Tosa. The stands on the outside of the corner are full of vegetation growing up thru the seats, on the way up the hill(which is quite steep and not truly appreciated on TV)the Renault rattles it's protestations but Didier is now flat out at 50mph!!!!.He throws the rust bucket into the Piratella, Whoa, it's a totally blind exit on the way downhill to Aqua Minerali (which looks like a great place to view the Real Thing from) quick right(sharper than I thought) towards the second part of the corner which is REALLY tight, we take to the exit curbing just like the Big Boys and head UP the hill again, as we approach Variante Alta I notice a house on the right very close to the track and from the upstairs window someone is having a look out(what a spot)I imagine watching the GP from there with 'Mama' serving coffee and biscotti, Whoa again for the blind entrance to the High Chicane no flick Right and Left here in this old buggy it is a labored right with an even MORE labored left(quite daunting at racing speeds I think) then Down Down Down on the route to Rivazza, under the Red & White chevroned bridge, the speed at which they hurtle down this increasingly steep hill takes by breath away. Now Rivazza looms large and I see the tyre marks of massive braking into what looks like an unbelievably sharp, off-camber, slippery left-hander. Not a lot of exit room here as you stay wide for the second and less daunting left which opens out to the quick straight. It is upon the exit of Rivazza that the spectre of the Rock show takes us by the scruff of the neck because we see the thousands of 'Great Unwashed' standing on the track directly in front of us!!!! Out go both Didier's feet as we execute a spiraling 180 to avoid contact with the punters. We are now heading back the wrong way around the circuit.......That is very strange indeed and our driver says that we should enjoy this as the only other way to get this view would be on the PlayStation! Upon arrival back at the Production office I dismiss Didier for the rest of the evening and go back to the job I was employed to do, Stage Lighting, well content with the achievement of the day......A LAP OF IMOLA.

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