The worst part of any MotoGP weekend is without doubt the traveling. Sitting around airports is monotonous, especially when traveling alone. No matter how meticulously you prepare, something will almost certainly come along and throw a spanner in the works.

When travelling to Amsterdam for the Assen race weekend it was the French air traffic control strike. Prior to that I had been fog bound in the Isle of Man on my way to Jerez. This time it was staff sickness which left me sitting around Gatwick airport for an extra three hours while the airline tried to sort it out.

I didn’t arrive at my hotel at Berlin airport until gone midnight. My plans for a relaxing that evening, watching the world cup with a couple of German beers, were ruined. Receiving an upgrade on my hire car did make up for the delay, and made the unrestricted German Autobahns fun.