Kate Walker compares the quality of facilities at F1's different tracks and the lessons some circuits could learn from others
As the first race I attended - as either a fan or an accredited journalist - Bahrain will always hold a special place in my heart. As is the case in any relationship, beginnings are special, full of opportunity and untold promise, with mistakes yet to be made. Knowing precisely no one in the sport, when my more experienced colleagues spent the time between sessions catching up on each other's off-season news, I avoided looking like a total lemon by exploring the Sakhir Circuit, familiarising myself with the entertainment available in the public areas and admiring the collection of historic cars that were on display to commemorate the beginning of Formula One's sixtieth season.
Over the past six years, memories of exactly what I saw on which year have joined together in a confused muddle. But what I do know is that there was as much to enjoy off-track as there was on it: BMX displays, concerts, kiddy play zones, and acres of seating occupied by shisha-smoking locals and tourists alike. With every passing year, the offerings have only expanded and the 2015 Bahrain Grand Prix can boast a snow village in the desert, a high-wire adventure zone, and much more besides.
The ticket-buying public are extremely well catered for, and so are the media. As we disembarked our planes, circuit staff stood at the end of the gangway ready to escort us through immigration, and shuttles had been laid on to hotels and circuit alike. When I arrived, I discovered that the circuit laid on three meals a day for the media, and offered rides to the airport on Sunday night and Monday morning.
An F1 virgin at the time, I assumed this was just how things were done in the world's most glamorous sport. How wrong we can be...
Less than two months later, as I arrived at the Circuit de Catalunya for my second grand prix, I again went for a walk around the public areas with a view to familiarising myself with the treats on offer to fans at the first European round. There were the usual stalls selling over-priced food and drinks found at every ticketed event you've ever been to, and a merchandising village selling branded caps and tee-shirts for double the price found on team websites.
When the track lay dormant between the various F1 and support sessions, there was nothing for the fans to do but drink and sunbathe. Entertainment of any form was non-existent, and the number of people who had elected to stay in the grandstands to watch GP2 and GP3 could be counted on the fingers of one hand. The bustle focused on queues for bars and loos, and as the audience got drunker and rowdier in the heat, the atmosphere increased in tension.
If the fan provisions fell rather short of those offered in Bahrain, the media services were non-existent. While three catered meals a day is going above and beyond in terms of hospitality, the Circuit de Catalunya offered water in standard office coolers, but had neglected to provide any cups with which to drink it. Food and coffee were non-existent.
As my experience of life on the grand prix circuit grew, it became clear that Bahrain was the exception and not the rule, from the perspective of fans and media alike. The F1 calendar's more recent additions have the benefit of government funding from growing (or oil-rich) economies, but it is the intelligent use to which these host countries put that funding that sets them apart.
Some of the more traditional rounds on the calendar put considerable effort into ensuring that an F1 weekend is a festival of activity for the paying public - Silverstone, Montreal, and Melbourne all deserve special commendation for their provisions - but keeping fans entertained when the track is quiet should be an essential part of grand prix planning.
As expensive as Formula 1 is for its host circuits, it is also (increasingly, at most venues) expensive for the sport's dwindling fanbase. Walking into a Formula 1 paddock for the first time in March 2010, I had no idea how lucky I was to get my first taste of F1 at a venue that bends over backwards to show all attendees a good time.