Alone, just me, the Ardennes and the circuit.

With Trish stuck in an all-day meeting and after breakfast at a local bar, I grabbed a hire car (more on that later) and set off to look at the famous motor racing track at Spa-Francorchamps. This was the first 'something special' of the day.

For the uninitiated, Spa is where Belgium’s Formula One race is held every September. It’s the very last of the ‘old’ tracks and is dripping with history.

Breathtaking.

It took about two hours on the Autobahn from Brussels. Actually getting a hire car proved to be a bit of a challenge. Seemingly every car in Belgium was already hired, except for one. A 1.2 litre VW Polo. The Europcar guy was almost apologetic as he eyed my heavy 6' 2" frame and the Polo. It was a nice little car and felt remarkably like a steel suit compared to the BMW SUV I'm used to!

I hit the Brussels ring road, immediately went the wrong way but realised it after about 10 minutes of heading towards the North Sea instead of Germany. Once pointing in the right direction I was Spa bound.

The original track was just over 13 miles (about 21km) long and cut through the thick forest that is the Ardennes. It was edged by the towns that make up the names of some of the current tracks corners, Stavelot, Malmedy, Spa, Francorchamps.

All of the great drivers of my childhood (and before) have raced there, Clark, Stewart, Surtees, Moss, Brabham, Hill (all three!!) and more. The champions of post-war motorsport would hurtle through the forest in fire-breathing monsters with the badges from Maserati, Ferrari, Auto Union and Mercedes-Benz, rarely wearing anything more protective than a t-shirt, goggles and a pudding-bowl helmet, on roads that were designed for genteel rural travel not competitive racing.

And race they did, sometimes at great cost. Spa, like the North circuit of the Nurburgring in Germany, became massive tests of men and machinery.

Multiple world champion and safety maven, Jackie Stewart loved Spa despite his spectacular crash in 1966 but knew it needed shortening to ensure drivers would last full seasons. This focus on driver and crowd safety lead to the development of the current track. At about 6km long, it is still arguably the most challenging on the current F1 calendar.

And I wanted to see it.

Finding my way to the track wasn’t too difficult, there are signs aplenty. When I got there I fully expected the circuit complex to be closed but it wasn’t. I drove right into the paddock area and parked under the new F1 pit garages.

I was the only person there. There was a few circuit maintenance vehicles scattered about but I couldn’t see anyone. Alone, just me, the Ardennes and the circuit. The forest really has a blue haze, not unlike burned motor oil. I’m told it’s caused by the areas unique micro-climate

What is difficult to imagine too that young men fought for survival here during the Battle of the Bulge in 1944. It was winter but freezing with snow & ice. The forest is so thick, you can’t imagine what a tank battle would have been like in that….

Drivers and commentators talk of Spa with great reverence. They talk about off-camber corners, great dips and straights and about possibly the greatest moment in motorsport, Eau Rouge. As I stepped out of my not-quite-fire-breathing VW Polo, I wondered if it was hype, spin designed to create legend?

Out of the car it was freezing. A light breeze was promising snow soon. I walked up the hill towards La Source (turn 1 for the F1 guys), right up to the end of pit lane. It’s steeper than it looks on TV or in a PC simulation and enough to make me puff and wonder if the second pastry for breakfast was a good idea.

I turned and looked beyond La Source down the hill and straight into the teeth of the beast, Eau Rouge. The track down is essentially a straight with a slight right-hand kink, which then becomes a distinct left-right combination at the same time as bottoming out, then full throttle uphill while keeping to the right.

Breathtaking.

The G-forces, both lateral and vertical are immense, as evidenced by the number of sideways tyre tracks that head directly towards the left-hand safety wall. Driving a standard road car at 45kmh through there without losing it would be a challenge never mind a 900bhp F1 car.

I spent the next couple of hours wandering the access trails and listening to the history in the wind. Freezing, I stood on the ridge above and to the right of Rivage and I'm sure I could hear ghost cars plunging out of Malmedy & Les Combes into the hairpin and on towards Pouhon.

I look forward to returning for the F1 race one day. Soon.

Special indeed. Oh and the second 'special' thing? All that frollicking in the Ardennes in winter gave me a fever of 102! Still, I slept well...