Formula 1 in Monza - From another View

There are few places in the world where speed meets scenery quite like Monza. Nestled at the foot of the Alps in Lombardy, the legendary Autodromo Nazionale di Monza sits inside the lush Parco di Monza — a royal park that turns into a roaring stage every September. In 2025, I finally experienced it for myself.

The weather couldn’t have been more Italian: bright sunshine, blue skies, espresso-fueled energy. We spent the weekend soaking up every bit of it — unfortunately missed the free practice, but attended the qualifying, and the main race. But since I’m far from a motorsport journalist (and there are already plenty of experts analyzing lap times and tire strategies), I’ll tell the story from a traveler’s perspective instead.

Getting to Monza Formula 1: Smooth Tracks & Rough Transfers

Our base was Milan, an ideal choice for both city breaks and race weekends. Getting to Monza looked easy enough on paper — a single train transfer from Porta Garibaldi station, clean, modern, with charging ports and plenty of seats. We joined fellow fans, chatting and laughing, ready for the time of our lives.

That excitement slightly deflated once we reached Monza station. Imagine being swept into a human river — thousands of people funneled toward a single bus queue, all jostling for space in the late-summer heat. Forty minutes later, we finally squeezed onto an overpacked shuttle bus that carried us to the park gates. From there, the 25-minute walk through green alleys felt like a blessing — a pocket of calm before the next crowd surge.

The Good Vibes and the Not-So-Good Logistics

The event itself was pure festival magic. Food stalls, DJs, team merch everywhere, and digital ordering systems that worked flawlessly — Italy knows how to make even a motorsport event feel chic.

But the post-qualifying trip back? Less Ferrari, more Fiat Panda. It took us over an hour and a half just to board a bus, then another 30 minutes of queueing and confusion at the train station where everyone was herded onto the same platform — regardless of destination. Our train dropped us at Milano Centrale instead of Porta Garibaldi. Inconvenient, sweaty, frustrating. Doesn't matter, we have our feet, walked to our hotel at Garibaldi.

And yet, the next morning we were back on the train — because that’s what Formula 1 weekends do to people.

Race Day Magic

When the engines started, every complaint vanished in the echo of pure horsepower. The sound, the crowd, the passion — it’s electric. From the grandstands, you don’t just cheer for your favorite driver; you cheer for everyone, for the thrill of it all. Still, I couldn’t help rooting for Kimi Antonelli, Italy’s young hope, while also applauding Verstappen, Norris, and Piastri for their stunning podium.

The Walk That Fixed Everything

After the race, we skipped the shuttle chaos and walked through Monza town instead. Best decision of the weekend. Quiet streets, sunlight filtering through trees, the lingering smell of espresso and rubber. This little post-race wander turned the whole experience around. Okay, a crazy tasty Aperol Spritz on the street helped too.

Unfortunately, the train situation didn’t improve much — we were once again funneled onto a single platform, only to arrive at Lambrate FS instead of Garibaldi. By then, we could only laugh. Monza, it seemed, loved welcoming tourists just as much as it loved pushing them out when the engines stopped.

Still, that’s part of the paradox of big events: unforgettable and maddening, thrilling and exhausting all at once.

A Critical Pit Stop for the Organizers

This is the point where travel meets logistics — and where Monza still has some laps to improve. Managing more than 300,000 fans across several days is no easy task, but large-scale event organization requires more than just enthusiasm; it demands precision.

The chaotic bus queues and confusing train routing left many visitors — especially international ones who’d travelled long distances — with a sour aftertaste at the end of an otherwise phenomenal weekend. Of course, you could say, “If she’s so picky, she should’ve taken a helicopter,” — because yes, that’s technically an option. Or simply watch from home. But I still believe there must be a friendly, human solution that allows fans to reach and leave a race in decent, livable conditions.

If organizers want people to remember Monza fondly and return year after year, they’ll need to refine how those final kilometers are handled. After all, world-class motorsport deserves world-class organization. Here’s hoping that by next season, the journey to and from the track will be as smooth as the laps inside it.

Final Lap

Would I go again to Formula 1 Monza? Absolutely — but I’d skip the bus, add a pre-race ristretto, and make sure the return includes a proper Italian dinner instead of the bus chaos. Because in Italy, even when logistics falter, the beauty of the experience somehow wins in the end.

Ciao Italia — I still love you.