OK, you’ve probably heard some bad stuff about racing at Interlagos; now here’s the good.

With the exception of Japan, Brazil is a race apart from all the other flyaways. Everywhere else has an ulterior motive for hosting F1. It promotes tourism, or commerce or national pride. Sometimes it’s simply a sop to the egos of rich men. Even Melbourne, arguably our favourite long-haul destination, only continues to host the race because there’s a positive impact on the local economy.

But Brazil isn’t like that. Brazil has a race because it wants a race. It has an audience that doesn’t need any persuading to come see the best drivers in the world, driving the best cars in the world. The atmosphere is more like a football match (a good one, not anything involving Nottingham Forest) than a grand prix. There’s a huge surge of noise around the Interlagos bowl whenever anything happens – and in ‘anything’ you can include a fire truck doing a lap or someone turning an engine over in the pitlane. It’s fair to say that’s not the only thing well-lubricated in the vicinity.

Of course this year the loudest chants were for Rubens, but it’s a bonus that home grown talent has provided so many of F1’s greats over the years rather than a factor that influences the popularity of the event. 90 per cent of the crowd would have been absolutely distraught to see Rubens go backwards in yesterday’s race, but that didn’t stop a full-throated roar of appreciation greeting Mark on the podium, or Jenson Button in parc ferme. It’s great that a huge crowd of real race fans got to see history being made, rather than that privilege going to the handful of tourists and confused locals that will make up the crowd in Abu Dhabi next week.

Since Red Bull Racing emerged blinking into the light, Brazil has always been the race where the championship has been settled, which is handy if you enjoy a good party. The abiding memory of 2005 is wandering into the Hilton at 3am, to see a young, painfully shy Fernando Alonso all on his own, clutching a bottle of champagne, tottering down a corridor, giggling as he bounced off the walls. Kimi in 2007 was cadging cigarettes off us at 6am, while dancing like an idiot at the Red Bull end of season shindig. Last year Lewis was observed having a glass of water in the hotel bar. It may have been sparkling. Hopefully Jenson will be waking up this morning – or this afternoon – in some foreign bathtub, wondering why his mouth tastes like the floor of a Morumbi taxi. Rubens has very generously lent Jenson his plane to ensure a swift return home. Hopefully it’s well-stocked with asprin.

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