Imola, northern Italy, was the site of the first test, and once again I felt the elemental sensory assault of Formula One as the teams assembled: the smell of fuel and the sweet scent of hot rubber; the squeal of high-power impact wrenches; the constant, almost addictive drone of engines. Household-name drivers like Ayrton Senna and Alain Prost in the McLarens, Nigel Mansell in a Williams, Gerhard Berger in the Ferrari, the reigning world champion Nelson Piquet in the Lotus. It hit me that I was back. This was where I wanted to be. We set up shop in our garage
