During the Austrian Grand Prix weekend, the Schonberghof Hotel is an unapproachable destination. Located just a few minutes walk from the paddock entrance of the Spielberg circuit, it is obviously reserved for Formula 1's leading figures.
The scenery changes completely when there are no races on the circuit, for example on a Tuesday last April. Spring arrives very slowly in these parts, the clothing is still wintery and the atmosphere is reminiscent of the pre-season tests when they took place in Barcelona.
The restaurant at the Schonberghof Hotel is accessible, and Italian and English are spoken at one of the tables. Andrea Kimi Antonelli casually switches his native language to speak English to Stephane Guerin, a Mercedes consultant at his side since he took his first steps in single-seaters.
"Wiener schnitzel for everyone?" Antonelli says, and the table follows him almost unanimously. Twelve hours later, he climbs into a Formula 1 single-seater for the first time, the Mercedes W12 that Lewis Hamilton drove in the dramatic 2021 season.
In all careers there are special days that come unexpectedly, others that are dreams that slowly take shape and then come true. The first test behind the wheel of a Formula 1 single-seater, for all drivers who have had this opportunity, is something destined to remain in their memory forever.
There is no trace of nervousness: probably his parents Marco and Veronica disguise it very well. Antonelli holds his own, ranging from the driver's seat - "It looks very comfortable" - to the weather: "Just in case I have to do my first laps at the wheel of a Formula 1 car with wet tyres."
Antonelli doesn't yet know that it won't just be the rain that will accompany him in his first test in an F1 car; in the afternoon, snow will also arrive. He devours his wiener schnitzel but has zero concessions to sweets or drinks other than strictly still water. Dad Marco breaks the ice a little by asking "What did the engineers tell you?"
"The programme will depend on the weather," Antonelli replies. "I was surprised to see them all very excited."
Among the tasks Antonelli completed on the eve of his first Formula 1 test was to memorise the names of all the engineers he would be working with. He asked Mercedes for a file with all the staff he would meet on the track, linking names to faces and memorising everything, a way to speed up the process of getting along with the team.
As the dinner draws to a close, Antonelli recounts anecdotes from the Formula Regional season that ended only six months earlier and the difficulties he encountered during the first three weekends in Formula 2, struggling with a single-seater that was not yet in top form. The 17-year-old then retires to his room, a kiss to his parents reciprocated with a caress.
It rains. When Antonelli opens the Mercedes box door at eight in the morning, he is bewildered: "All these people are here for me?"
There are no guests, only strictly necessary personnel, the test is behind closed doors. But for those who come from the paddocks from lower categories, the observation is correct. For an F1 test, there are about 30 people in the pit, including engineers, mechanics, telemeters and so on.
The exception made is for this writer, an old promise with Antonelli when he was in his first season in a single-seater. "I want to be there the day you drive a Formula 1 car for the first time." It was only a matter of time, but Antonelli still set the pace.
He moves around casually, greets everyone and chats, commenting on the amount of rain on the track. "I think it's really a lot," he says. "I hope I can run, even with wets, but I want to go round." At nine o'clock on the dot, the engineers indulge him: Antonelli puts on his helmet and slowly climbs into the car.
Nine minutes later the mechanics remove the tyre warmers, the pressure rises and Antonelli's hands tremble a little. At that moment there is a life's work, still short, but definitely intense. Dad Marco (known as a tough guy) cannot hide a hint of emotion, then puts everything aside and prepares to keep the times.
He finishes the first run, of just a few laps, which is followed by a short briefing with the engineers. It is quite impressive to see a 17-year-old boy give quick and precise answers to the questions coming from the huddle of engineers gathered around him. Then he takes a break.
"It's so cool...no matter how difficult the conditions are, you immediately feel that the more you push, the more the car stays down. When you come out of a corner you realise you could have done it faster, and then the braking, the grip in the corners despite the wets is crazy, mamma mia."
A brioche, an orange juice and back in the car. At the end of the second run, the engineers begin to smile among themselves, especially Riccardo Musconi, the engineer from Imola in charge of the test team. They show Antonelli the onboard images downloaded from the camera placed on the car, and Antonelli anticipates their remarks: "Here I think I've gone too far," he says, smiling, and the engineers, faced with sincerity, can only nod.
It is visible how much more serene Antonelli's expression becomes as the runs continue. His hands no longer shake, and he begins to enjoy the moment. The lunch break arrives and it starts snowing. Antonelli no longer wants to stop. He takes advantage of the break to ask if he can do a few laps in his dad Marco's road car. "What do you say, if I do a few laps, will anyone get angry?"
Once he got the OK, he climbed into the car with his father sitting by his side and hit the track. Marco Antonelli has used up a lot more asphalt than Kimi, an experience that allows him to give the appropriate advice considering the very difficult track conditions. The two exchange opinions on trajectories, kerbs to take and those to avoid, then Kimi arrives a little long at the braking of Turn 4. His father catches the risk of running into the sand in advance, and issues a resounding warning: "Watch out! We're going to end up burying ourselves here and we're going to look like shit..." Kimi laughs: "I guess you're getting too scared, huh?"
After a few laps, with the tyres starting to ask for respite, it's back to the pits. The snow continues to fall and the programme is postponed until the next day. "Did you see if my parents were excited?" asks Antonelli. Receiving an affirmative answer, he admits that he was too. "You know, last night at dinner I might not have realised it yet, but today...well, when they lowered the car for the first run it was a mix of tension and joy."
The wet christening is over. The parents bid farewell to their son and set off in the car to be at the Mugello circuit the next day to manage the family team competing in the Italian Formula 4 championship.
Antonelli prepares for the second day of testing, with the weather granting a respite by finally being able to use dry tyres for the first time. He smiles, at 17 years old, Antonelli is a man and a boy. On the one hand the professional, capable of convincing Mercedes to grant him a very rare opportunity in the world of motorsport. On the other, a 17-year-old (18 in August) who always remains under the radar.
"You know what became clear to me after today? I've understood why there are a thousand people working to get a Formula 1 car onto the track," he reflects. "Ah, and send me the video you took while I was scaring my dad!"
Then he walks away in that perfectly fitting black overalls for the last technical briefing of the day.
