At the center of the Ferrari Owners enclosure, John Surtees is on good form, though he is concerned that Valentino Rossi is losing his passion for racing. He hopes MotoGP’s unchallenged GOAT can still make switch and use his incredible talent in car racing before he loses his sharpness. He asks me if Lando Norris can get Rossi a test drive at McClaren and I promise to mention it.

Jim Clarke has a huge smile and is telling stories to a laughing Mike Hailwood about Sir Jackie Stewart that I cannot repeat in a public forum. Just outside, near the McLaren supercar parking, a beaming Bruce McLaren claims never to have seen What We Do in the Shadows. Burt Munroe appears from nowhere and confirms it’s hilarious.

Just inside the doors to the palace, each coveting their own bottle of champagne at their feet, my partner is sat between James Hunt and María de Villota and I hope she is paying more attention to Maria. I’m assuming the budgie and the huge dog I can see are Hunt related.

Ayrton doesn’t show up again (he never does) but he sends his best wishes with a polite postcard.

Tucking into a large picnic from the back of a huge Bentley, Graham Hill is fascinated by the possibilities of Youtube and is mystified why we are bothering with written content when we could have our own tv channel. I have to admit we are not as photogenic as him (or Damon for that matter).

Queuing for fish and chips (when the publisher has laid on a fortune in  Hors d’oeuvre) Steve Hislop and Nicky Hayden  are telling stories about the TT and both wondering how hard they could have pushed it on the island.

The Dunlop’s have somehow found a supply of Guinness and are out behind Blenheim Palace’s temporary Shakespeare theatre smoking fags. I ask them if anyone would like any of the special Durago95 champagne that the publisher has sourced at great expense and one of them bounces an empty can off my head.

In a patch of seemingly endless sunshine down by the bridge, James Garner and Steve McQueen are telling increasingly competitive stories about the filming of GRAND PRIX and LE MANS in front of an audience of what look like champagne guzzling girls (where did they get passes?) until Paul Newman shows up and puts his arms around their shoulders, and just – winks – to gales of adoring laughter.

Nicki Lauda has a new business idea, he’s hoping to invest in SPACEX. He is convinced Musk will give him a chance as a test pilot. Anthoine Hubert is a respectful part of this conversation until behind us on Pirelli’s big screen, the red lights go dim at startline at Monza, and then, with Charles Le Clerc lighting up the SF90, any thoughts I might have had the magazine being the centre of attention are gone, as the illustrious guests celebrate like actual tifosi.

Effusive toasting for Lewis follows, then the food, and then the champagne disappeared, followed by the illustrious guests.