Unbelievable, mind-blowing, spectacular, loud. No, not another cheesy TV advertisement, but the sound of a real, live Grand Prix. In the flesh, as it were.

Once the Grand Prix season gets under way, millions of viewers across the world plonk themselves on the couch and spend two hours watching some of the fastest drivers and cars scream around the track. The commentary and sound from the TV are top-notch but, like most sports, they don’t come close to the real deal.

I’ve been one of the TV statistics that regularly cracks a beer or two and, well, to be honest, basically hopes that Ferrari take line honours. So when the opportunity came via Thompson’s Travel to see the Brazilian Grand Prix at the famous Interlagos Circuit in São Paulo, I said yes quicker than it takes Fernando Alonso to make it out the starting grid (mostly).

Sure, many people see Latin America and Brazil as one of their mystic bucket list places to visit, but for a petrolhead, Latin America means the smell of racing oil, a symphony of finely-tuned racing machines and the place that gave us Ayrton Senna.

If you’re comfortable with Joburg, then it’s not such a stretch to get used to São Paulo. From the moment the SAA direct flight lands you are constantly aware that it’s a big sprawling city and recent horror stories of people getting thrown into jail for drugs, confirmed by the armed brutes that check your paperwork before you go through passport control, all give the impression that it’s a mean city. Vibey, active and commercial hub, but always an undertone of something more potent.

We stayed at the Estanplaza Hotel – comfortable enough – and my room afforded me a view of the city that stretched from horizon to horizon. And it seems that on race weekend the entire city transforms itself into Formula 1 fanatics.

In every bar, café and restaurant the talk was mostly around the race. Oh, and of course, football.

There was enough free time to do a little exploring and, having spent a few hours walking around, doing window-shopping and taking the odd drive in a taxi, I can safely say the city serves some of the best coffee in the world.

Lunchtime is an entertaining way to look at the locals and, yes, there are some splendid examples of the legendary Brazilian female form. By their nature, Brazilians are an animated lot and because of my non-existent Portuguese I didn’t understand a word – and even fewer of them understand a word of English.

Best you get up to speed with a Portuguese/English dictionary, go with someone who understands the language or get an app on your phone that can translate.

I certainly hope that this receives attention before they host the World Cup. Even in the hotel, communication proved to be a challenge, and in the taxi, impossible.

Having given a written address to the driver, he promptly had what I assume was a conversation with me. The more I protested that I didn’t have a clue what he was on about, the louder he spoke. This becomes rather nerve-wracking when the meter is running – and Brazil isn’t cheap – and you want to find out how much longer you’re going to be stuck in traffic. Because you haven’t seen traffic until you’ve experienced São Paulo.

Estimates range from nine to 11 million cars in the city! It’s the N1 on a Monday morning 24 hours a day. The inner-city streets are narrow, the trucks and buses big, and yet not once did I see anyone block an intersection. This could have been because of the ever-present militia in some shape or form lurking around on corners, but I suspect Brazilians have better road manners and are more accommodating in traffic than we are.

For those of us who managed to watch live World Cup games, the set-up in getting to the Interlagos Circuit is very similar. Buses park about 2 to 3km away and you walk to the circuit.

And this is where Brazil is not dissimilar to South Africa. Inside the confines of the track there are many millions of dollars being spent on equipment, cars, drivers’ salaries, tickets, beer etc. However, on the roads adjoining the circuit, people live just above the breadline – they try to sell you water, beer, snacks, raincoats, parking and even a view from their roof overlooking the track for R1 000.

Inside the track, sad as it is, much of it is forgotten as you see your first Formula 1 car come past and the hair on the back of your neck stands up. Mostly to a man (and many women) the packed grandstands have a close affinity with Ferrari, probably because of its history and countryman Felipe Massa is behind the wheel of one. At the undercover hospitality stand, where we were, TV monitors feed the live pictures that the rest of the world sees, and the track times.

The only items on sale outside and mostly inside the track were for Ferrari and Williams, testimony to Brazil’s passion for its sporting heroes; Massa and Williams’ Rubens Barrichello were the main men.

Sunday dawns sunny and hot, perfect for racing. Buses line the streets waiting to take fans to the track. To get a good viewing spot, leave early because all food, snacks, cold drinks and beer are included in the package so you don’t have the hassle of having to wait in queues.

The beer garden opens at 11am, lots of jovial laughter and banter, beer flows, more banter, more beer, banter turns a bit ugly… fists fly, security is called and people are marched away.

After some Porsche Cup racing, the track commentator comes on line and babbles away in Portuguese but once the crowd rises as one you know they’re off.

The noise is a cacophony of screaming machines that shatters the silence, melts the wax in your ears and bores in to the body’s core. Beautiful.

The crowd moves and sways and oohs and aahs with every passing manoeuvre or close call and before the brain has time to register the constant ringing in your ears, Sebastian Vettel crosses the line. Silence.

Thousands pour out of the gates and return to Brazil’s overriding obsession – winning the World Cup.

Special:

l The Brazilian F1 Grand Prix will be held at Autódromo José Carlos Pace in São Paulo.

l This track became a lucky charm for local racers Emerson Fittipaldi, Carlos Pace and Carlos Reutemann, who all won there in the 1970s.

l Spend a fabulous four nights in São Paulo and be part of this exciting group, departing from Joburg on November 24 for São Paulo and departing from Sao Paulo early on November 29.

l Package from R22 255 per person sharing and R26 765 per single (plus airline taxes of R3 172 per person)

www.thompsons.co.za - Saturday Star