An excited lady spectator broke through the barrier and officials were startled as she dodged and sprinted through them, screaming, ‘I love you, Stirling. I love you so much. I just love you…’

From behind the scenes at Goodwood, here are some trivial little moments of a kind rarely reported. Perhaps they add something to explain just why the Festival of Speed is such an unbelievable experience.
At the top of the hill, drivers get out and mill around, chatting. One fellow I didn’t recognise climbed from a Ferrari F1 car and walked over, mentioning that he is an Italian subscriber to Octane.

We talked about the car he was driving, an ex-Michele Alboreto F1 Ferrari from the mid-1980s. As we chatted on, I found out that my new friend’s name was Cantarella. About a minute later, after things had filtered through my thick head, I said, ‘Er, not the Mr Cantarella?’

He replied modestly, admitting, ‘I did run Fiat for a few years.’ It was none other than Paolo Cantarella, CEO of the entire Fiat group from 1996 to 2002. He was the man in charge of everything Fiat-related through those years, including Alfa Romeo, Ferrari and Maserati. Although I hadn’t a clue what he looked like, I have always thought of him as one of the good guys. Anyway, he’s an Octane reader and he appreciates great old cars, so he must be.

The Festival was packed with superstars and celebrities of every kind, dozens of them more instantly recognisable than Paolo Cantarella. I nearly made a fool of myself by saying hello to Kevin McCloud as I walked past him in the crowd. Luckily, I stopped myself – I’ve only ever seen him on telly, presenting Grand Designs.

I liked a remark by Jacky Ickx. While he was sitting in a 1930s Auto Union, waiting to go, I asked him what he thought of it. ‘This gives us an opportunity to realise what it was like to be a racing driver 70 years ago,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘and it’s special, very special.’

Media star Chris Evans was there, raising another large fortune for Children in Need. Seven of his listeners had been driving round the country in seven of his Ferraris, all painted white. They had put in the successful bids for that and their adventure came to a climax at Goodwood, where seven of us drove them up the hill in the cars. I don’t know why but I was impressed when Chris Evans went round quietly, thanking everybody politely for taking part.  

On the Sunday, I got a chilling insight into what it must be like to be extremely famous, to be the real ‘man of the moment’. The plight of the hounded celebrity is such a cliché, I know, but when you experience the reality of it close up it is simply alarming.

My weekend was spent driving three of the best Mercedes-Benz Grand Prix cars of the 1930s and Jenson Button took on one of them, the 1934 W25, on Sunday. In the Assembly Area, waiting to go, Jenson was faced with a legion of photographers pointing their cameras. In the background, behind the barrier, a vast crush of fans bayed for his attention. It’s completely innocent, such enthusiasm, but it’s still scary from that side of the fence.

In a quiet moment, a shout came from the crowd: ‘Jenson. Please. We’ve been waiting an hour.’ I could sense an almost unbearable pressure. It flashed through my mind that he should yell back: ‘Sure, and I’ve waited nine years!’ But he just smiled and strolled over whenever he could, apparently quite relaxed, and signed as many autographs as possible.

A few minutes later, we were away down to the startline and I saw another, very different example of it down there. We were parked in line along the avenue before the start and I was sitting in the 1939 W154, right behind Sir Stirling Moss and the W196 that he drove in 1955. An excited lady spectator broke through the barrier and officials were startled as she dodged and sprinted through them, screaming,

‘I love you, Stirling. I love you so much. I just love you…’

She made it to her objective and smacked a big kiss on Sir Stirling’s face. In his shoes, I’d be tempted to get rid of that famous antique helmet and replace it with a brand new full-face item. He can handle fans properly, however: cool and gracious as ever, he signed an autograph for her and she made her way happily back into the crowd. Not bad for a bloke who’s coming up to his 80th birthday.