91Èȱ¬

We had known for some time that the end of the would be lights out for a whole new race - a sort of 'Volcanic GP' as the entire Formula 1 paddock tried to get back to various homes across the globe.

F1 boss Bernie Ecclestone's gag on our programme on Sunday that we would just stay in China for the foreseeable future and make Shanghai the new home of F1 filled no one with much joy.

So, Sunday night rolls around, the 91Èȱ¬ team gather in the hotel dining room and our boss Mark Wilkin informs us that our scheduled departure is indeed cancelled, there is no confirmation yet that there will be a flight soon and we'll just sit it out.

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Right about now, I should have been home for a couple of hours. My wife had taken the day off work and we were going to spend the time doing something together.

Well, as things stand I'm writing this in my hotel room in China and Harriet is (hopefully still) planning to make some for my eventual return - man, I love my wife!

It's such a strange experience here at the moment. I just spoke with , who is having a desperately unlucky season driving for , and his luck is out in this situation, too. He was downstairs in reception just moping about not sure how or when he'll make it home. And he isn't alone.

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Unbelievable, simply unbelievable.

Our editing suite was stacked with every conceivable song mentioning the word rain. Our hard-working production manager Anne - whose task is to ensure the operation runs smoothly and fill the office fridge with chocolate every morning - was on standby with a stack of 91Èȱ¬ umbrellas (that strangely all went missing!). Eddie Jordan had a large stack of shirts waiting to be swapped and changed. And I had researched oodles of stats and facts about what would happen when the rain finally came... which it would, because in Malaysia it always does. Right?

We waited. Two laps in and and are both playing a blinder. No rain.

Twenty laps later and the are scything through the field despite driving a car with technical problems. Still no rain.

Forty laps in and I'm one of about 60 people standing in the paddock looking skywards in disbelief as the sun continues to beat down.

So, the rains never arrived, but as I sit here on the flight to the UK, getting ever more excited about the scones my wife Harriet promised me she'd bake for my arrival home, I think we can reflect on two pretty successful race weekends since the 91Èȱ¬ team boarded the plane for Oz.

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