Amongst this annual incursion for the past five years has been myself and the same old team of companions in what has become a time old tradition. To show how times have changed, in 1997, my first race, I watched Jacques Villeneuve steal a win from the unfortunate Mika Hakkinen, whose engine failed. Five years on Hakkinen has been world champion twice, and Villeneuve looks unlikely to win another race, let alone a title. Some things though, like my companions never change, and this year once again I would be accompanied by the same friends who came in 2001.

They are: Jimmy Jackson, a friend of my Dad's, who runs Hargate Hall holiday apartments in Wormhill near where I live and has a knack of taking the piss out of everything that moves; John Lee, a friend of Jimmy's and one of Sheffield's top architects; and Robert Foster, a friend from school who accompanied us last year for the first time. It seems that every year we arrive at Silverstone earlier, and this year was no exception. By midday on Friday we'd hit the road and were heading down the M1. John was due to drive down and meet us later as he had to stay at work for longer, so it was Jim, Rob and I who at around 2.30 pulled into the gates of the almost legendary Silverstone village cricket ground, which over the years has become our traditional camping venue.

In previous years Rob and I have been content with sleeping in the back of John's Landcruiser (which, although cramped, was certainly useable). This year however, John no longer had the Landcruiser, and had replaced it with a very nice Saab convertible. It doesn't take a genius to work out that only a tiny baby would be able to sleep comfortably in there let alone two 'very tall' teenagers! But using the luxury of foresight Jimmy had equipped us with a two-man tent which we (slowly) assembled, while Jimmy looked on making remarks to my camcorder about Rob's resemblance to Pop star Gareth Gates (and it wouldn't be the last he'd hear of it either).

Left: The gang assembles for another assault on Silverstone... Right: On the steps of McLaren's majestic monstrous motorhome.

After pitching tent we made our way over to the circuit. At Gate 5 we picked up our tickets courtesy of my father Peter Slater (who commentates for BBC Radio) and wandered around looking at the various attractions. The most exciting of these, ironically, was the Orange Arrows marquee which included a virtual reality experience where you put on a headset and are treated to two laps of the Magny Cours circuit. The graphics were tremendous and allow you to look around in 360 degrees. Doubt however surrounded Arrows' actual participation in the event due to unpaid engine bills (more on that later).

Among the other attractions were a full scale model of the BAR Honda, and a Mercedes stand with replicas of David Coulthard's car and the safety car. At about 6pm we headed over to the centre of the track (which costs most fans a staggering £17.00 just on Fridays) but found surprisingly little to see. As arranged, at 6.30 we approached the paddock gates where we met my father who handed over the holy grail of the F1 experience, three paddock passes! And so we entered the F1 paddock leaving the autograph hunters and fans (or 'poor people' as Jimmy cheekily describes them) behind. The transition is staggering, suddenly we are in a BIG MONEY ZONE.

The most impressive structure of all was the McLaren motorhome (or control centre) which needs to be seen to be believed; this colossal structure is transported to all the European races (though how beats me). Inside are kept all of McLaren's catering facilities, computers, data sheets etc. Moving on down the paddock to the troubled Arrows facility we were keen to see what the news was. After grabbing a photo with man of the moment Tom Walkinshaw and a word with my Dad, the news seemed to be that Arrows would be able to race.

Left: Stephen worshipping at the altar of DC fandom. Right: Stephen and Rob pose as lucky charms for BAR, who scored their first points in '02.

So it was time to head for our evening meal ­ no, not the (far from first class) Silverstone Village Cricket Club barbecue, but from BAR's pub night, a special Fish & Chip dinner laid on in the BAR motorhome for the world's press and ... errr ... us! Not only was the food great, but the (free) beer was great, the Eagles-style band was great and the company was great, especially after John arrived to join the party. When it was all over, I went and thanked the BAR motorhome staff including a chap who is in charge of all catering in the motorhomes. "We're coming to Spa by the way" I said, he replied, "Oh, come in and see us whenever you like!" Now that's what I call a tempting offer!!

To see what we had been missing we rejoined the poor people (sorry, 'fans') at the cricket club where a singularly unimpressive one man band was playing. After a quick pint it was time for bed, so a slightly under the weather Gareth (sorry, 'Rob') and I literally squeezed ourselves into our new and small tent. Just as we were drifting off to sleep a drunken voice came shouting across the campsite: "AAAGHH! ARROWS ARE GONNA RACE TOMORROW YEAAHHH! WAKE UP EVERYONE, IT'S 1 O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING!!" The next morning I awoke at around 6am and, after heading down to the pavilion for a wash and brush up, it was time for our first class breakfast ­ no, sadly, not from BAR, but bacon butties from Jimmy's portable stove!

Once back at the circuit there was some time to kill before qualifying. We had arranged to meet two friends of ours from school who were also spectators, Sam Village whose Dad runs a team in Italian F3000 and his friend Roger Wood. We met them at around midday and drifted over to our spot on the exit of the Luffield complex where we watched an exciting qualifying session. We marveled at Juan Pablo Montoya's Senna-esque qualifying lap, and laughed at Alex Yoong's completely dismal effort to qualify the ugly Minardi Asiatech. I firmly believe that Jimmy could do a better job with the car, and Yoong would continue to be the weekend's object of ridicule.

Left: Tom Walkinshaw and S. Slater discuss the finer points of financial manipulation. Right: Niki Lauda greets Stephen, who has just emerged from the driver's briefing.

The afternoon was spent in the Villages' very luxurious motorhome which is situated in the BRDC campsite. Then after saying our goodbyes to Sam and Roger, my next aim was to do an interview on F1 Rejects duty. My father had arranged for me to meet RTE's F1 commentator, and man with most F1 qualification attempts without ever making the grid, F1 Reject David Kennedy. No sooner had that finished then we were escorted into the TV compound by Ted Kravitz (who is one of ITV's F1 reporters).

Ted showed us round the studios and editing suites of which there are plenty. There are so many screens and dials that you wonder how anyone keeps track of anything. The tour high point was a photo in the ITV studio. Time now to head off to Towcester for our annual Saturday night Silverstone dinner, a Chinese meal at The Rice Bowl. The food as always was delicious and we had four courses in all. Jimmy's mischievous mood soon came into force, and we made several prank phone calls to such people as Jimmy's wife who wasn't taken in by the Ralf Schumacher impersonations, or indeed my grandfather with the Alex Yoong impressions from one of the waiters.

Our big hit though was with Rob's brother Jack who was completely taken in by John's impression of David Coulthard! Back to the cricket ground for bed then after that delicious meal, and we were just sinking off to sleep when we heard the unmistakable sound of "MINARDI MINARDI, WHAYYYY JUAN FOR THE WIN JUAN FOR THE WIN!" "SHUT UP!", came the yell from John, but the reply to that came so loud they could probably hear him at the circuit, "WHAT I ONLY COME HERE ONCE A YEAR, I CAN HAVE FUN CAN'T I?" I think he eventually got the message.

Left: Stephen interviews Dave Kennedy for F1 Rejects. Look out for the Interview soon! Right: Rob and Stephen's ITV audition to replace James and Martin left the ITV producers saying "Don't call us, we'll call you..."

Sunday morning, 6am, Gareth's (sorry Rob's) alarm sounds. Jimmy and John of course will be in bed for an extra hour, as we for the Nth time are on chair duty. After taking a surprisingly warm shower from the pavilion we trudged the 30 minute walk back to the circuit to the sound of a dozen helicopters flying overhead. This year (unlike last year) we successfully set up the chairs on the exit of Luffield, and went over to meet Jimmy and John at the paddock gates. David Webb from Jaguar escorted us through the Jaguar garage and into the pitlane where we spent a good 15 minutes eyeing the cars and mechanics, some of whom were on pit stop practice. Then it was time for full Jaguar English breakfast, cooked up to its usual high standards by our Australian friend chef Brendan, whom I know from Monaco.

The rest of the morning was spent looking over the remaining attractions, the best of which was a Michelin 3D cinema that provided some quite exciting F1 footage. Lunch consisted of Silverstone's specialty: burger, chips and a drink each for £11.20!! At those prices no wonder Jimmy calls the fans 'poor people'! And so to the race, which was an absolutely thrilling affair. Excitement ran highest during the Schumacher/Montoya battle where the atmosphere was just electric. Unfortunately the result was not what we were looking for, and I have to shamefully admit booing Michael Schumacher a bit on his slowing down lap. Aside from that though, it proved the most entertaining race of the year, and the best British GP since the rain of 1998.

Disaster almost struck as we were leaving the circuit when Rob realised he'd left his mobile phone charging in the Orange Arrows marquee, so after a wait while he went back to fetch it, we headed back to the campsite to take down the tent and head home. While clearing up our gear we noticed a camp spot next to us where the rubbish had just been left all over the place. The loudmouth was obviously good at littering as well as shouting! So overall was this the best Silverstone ever? The answer: Yes, by a long long way! Bring on next year...

Separated at Birth?:I don't think so! What was Jimmy thinking?