There has been much amusement in the paddock about the concept of a Grand Prix of Europe which requires all European passport holders to secure a visa. Of course, with the prospect of Brexit looming large, the continental Europeans have been laughing at us Brits, telling us to get used to it...
Getting to Azerbaijan has been something of a logistical nightmare. While the country isn't particularly hard to get to from most European capitals, making it to Baku from Montreal is another matter entirely. In the space of 18 hours and three flights, I visited four different countries - Canada, England, Germany, and Azerbaijan - and arrived with a body clock so confused I wasn't entirely sure what planet I was on.
Every new race is an adventure, and the first year in a country is always fun as we try and figure out what's what. At first glance, Baku looks like a cross between Bahrain and Soviet Russia, with old Soviet-style architecture sharing the skyline with Dubai-lite glass monoliths and the ever-present neon and LED displays we're used to from Manama.
But then you wind your way into the old town, past 12th century walls that marked the limits of Baku as-was, and the cobbled streets and yellow stone buildings have a medieval charm that it's hard not to enjoy. Unless, like me, you've made the rookie mistake of heading out in heels, at which point the cobblestones become something of an assault course.
Part of the circuit runs through the old town, and as Formula One cars are about as well suited to cobblestones as my stilettos were, the race organisers have tarmaced them over, paving the way for F1 cars to tear through a UNESCO World Heritage Centre (I believe a first for this sport). This is a circuit that demands balls of steel from the drivers, with the cars threading their way through narrow streets and up inclines that are far more dramatic in person than they looked on the photos we'd seen before coming.
With no track running until tomorrow, it remains to be seen just how punishing the track will be, although the joke in the press room is that we're all very relieved Pastor Maldonado is no longer racing. Were Crashtor still behind the wheel of an F1 car, the whole weekend would be red flagged within minutes of the pitlane opening for FP1.
So as we wait for the weekend proper to get underway, the travelling circus has been trying to get to know our host city. First impressions are positive. It's not particularly easy to get from A to B, but such is life when a street circuit takes over a city - the same can be said of both Singapore and Monaco.
The best advertisement for Baku thus far has been its citizens. Despite the language barrier -- English is spoken, but very much as a second or third language -- every Azeri I have encountered has been curious about F1, very friendly, and keen to make sure that we enjoy their city as much as they do. While getting lost in the alleyways of the old town on Wednesday, I was approached by locals more interested in helping me find my way than selling me tourist tat (a sad fact of life in many other F1 host countries).
Of course, it's not all perfect. I decided to stay at a local hotel instead of joining my colleagues in one of the media hotels recommended by the circuit. Going native wasn't the best plan -- while the room looked fine (albeit styled like an Iranian brothel from the 1970s), the water coming from the taps smelled like raw sewage. But hotel rooms are easily changed, and it serves me right for going against the flow.
The Baku adventure has been a good one so far, I'm happy to report. And when we don't have to travel here from a country that has no direct (or indirect...) access to Azerbaijan it will be all the better.