Photos by Yvette
From cold, grey Groningen to 4 am alarms and desert heat, Yvette takes us through a Grand Prix weekend from the marshal’s post, where unseen work, pressure, and camaraderie keep the whole show running safely.
TrackDNA note:
Yvette works as a marshal at both MotoGP and Formula 1 events. This story is from her weekend in Abu Dhabi with F1—but the early alarms, heat, responsibility, and “camaraderie in orange” are exactly the same on two wheels. If you’ve ever blasted past a marshal post on a bike, this is what life looks like on the other side of the fence.
From Groningen to Yas Marina
Every motorsport fan wonders what it’s like to attend a race weekend in person, and once you get to experience that, how it would be to be even closer to the action.
As a marshal, I have the privilege to experience the race up close and personal. My Grand Prix weekend starts on Wednesday with an 18-hour journey from my hometown of Groningen in the Netherlands, where it’s cold, grey, windy and miserable, to Abu Dhabi, where it is sunny, dry and 28 degrees.
This is my first time in Abu Dhabi — but my tenth Formula 1 weekend as a marshal — and I’m looking forward to experiencing the 2025 title decider for myself.
Welcome to the 4 am Club
Race weekends start with an alarm that almost feels illegal: getting up at 3:30 am on the Friday morning of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. And while the gates open for the public around 9 am, as marshals our day starts way earlier. Hence the 3:30 alarms.
Arriving at Yas Marina Circuit in the darkness feels surreal. Besides a few of the security staff, I’m one of the first people to arrive at the track. The circuit is dark and silent, peaceful, and completely different from the atmosphere I have seen on TV the last few years.
Once all marshals have arrived, we have a briefing before we are off to our posts. My destination for the weekend? Turn 1.
Setting the Stage at Turn 1
We drop our gear and check out the post and the track before everything starts. Being assigned the first turn means I will either have a very busy weekend, or nothing at all will happen.
My job this weekend is Intervention Marshal. If anything goes wrong, we’re the first ones to respond: clearing away debris, recovering cars, and getting the track back to safety.
It’s not glamorous. It’s shoes-in-the-dust, gloves-on, sweating my butt off in my protective gear kind of work. But standing there, watching the track slowly wake up and gear up for the race weekend? It’s magical.
Friday is a practice day not only for drivers, but also for us marshals. Some people have been in this turn for years while others, like me, come here for the first time. As cars drive by, each category behaving differently, we learn the tells of a car cornering without any troubles, or someone who might just end up outside of the track.
We listen to the braking and how far they drive over the kerbs and build a mental picture of what a “normal” turn looks like, and what could indicate something happening.
Saturdays feel different. Cars are being pushed harder, and all the support classes have their first race of the weekend. The pace increases and our focus sharpens, knowing that any small mistake could quickly turn into a response from us.
Get the Inside Line
Real stories, track insights, and paddock moments — straight from riders who live it. No noise, no fluff, just the DNA of the track delivered to your inbox.
The Heat
I knew the weekend was going to be warm. Back home in the Netherlands the mercury rarely goes past 25 degrees. Friends who have been before told me. Weather apps told me.
Still, none of that prepares you for standing trackside for twelve to fourteen hours in work gear.
By noon on Friday, my brain felt like an overheated laptop, and by 3 pm I had lathered myself up in sunscreen to avoid ending up as a lobster at the end of the day. After every session is done I run towards a toilet because I keep on drinking to stay hydrated.
But this is where the camaraderie kicks in. Marshals who were strangers a few hours ago suddenly feel like teammates you’ve known for years. We share water, snacks, sunscreen, jokes, and the occasional existential meltdown about the temperature.
Sunday: Race Day
Another early start. Before we can take the bus at 5 am, we have to check out from the hotel. Luckily we can leave our bags there; I don’t really feel like hauling mine along with me the whole day.
At the post we check the track before setting up for the day. Before the Formula 1 race can start, we have three support races to finish. In between the Formula 2 and Formula 1 races there are a few hours of downtime, so we’re making the most out of it: having a look around the Fanzone and catching the end of the drivers’ photos.
Before we know it, the lights at the end of the pit lane go green for the last time this weekend and the drivers make their way to the grid. The UAE national anthem sounds, the Etihad Airways Airbus A380 escorted by seven Hongdu L-15s flies low over the grid before the engines are fired.
One light.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
And lights out.
Nothing compares to the feeling of the start of a Formula 1 race. Twenty engines rev at their max as they pick up speed and head towards us. You can feel the rumble in your whole body and my fellow marshals inch forward around the FIA fencing in order to see what is happening. My eyes scan every car, every movement, ready to jump into action if two cars hit each other.
And then, they all make it through without an incident.
Every marshal exhales at the same time as we watch the Medical Car hurry after the field, the pack already gone to Turn 3 while they are still in Turn 1.
Watching Without Seeing
From a lot of marshal posts you cannot see what else is happening on the track. We don’t have any public area behind us, so there are no TV screens to follow the race near us. We hear cheering from the grandstands, someone must have had a great overtake, but we have to wait until the cars reach us again to see who has overtaken who.
The race settles into a rhythm. We hear the cars coming before we see them, and as soon as someone drives into our sector we are alert, scanning for loose bits on the cars that could be potentially dangerous and ready to jump into action if someone makes a mistake and ends up in a barrier.
Under the Podium
When the chequered flag is waved we pack up our last things, our gloves, and once the track has been opened by the course car, I put on my backpack and walk onto the main straight.
As marshals we can stand on the main straight underneath the podium for the celebrations, and I have to say, it’s the coolest spot to watch the celebrations from!
The party has only started, but I am done for the weekend. I drag myself back to the bus that is waiting for us and eagerly return to the hotel for a shower and a drink with my fellow marshals to finish off an amazing weekend. I’m exhausted, sunburned, dehydrated, but absolutely satisfied.
Why I Keep Coming Back
People often ask me why I keep on coming back, putting in long and intense days at races this big. Why stand in the heat for hours? Why run towards dangerous situations? Why give up your holidays, weekends, sleep and sanity?
The answer is simple:
I love the sport.
Among marshals there is a unique, unexplainable camaraderie in orange. We don’t get paid for this, but we turn up time and time again because of this.
And because there is nothing, absolutely nothing, like the privilege of standing trackside, watching the world’s fastest cars fly past knowing you’re part of what keeps this whole circus moving safely.
Abu Dhabi was tough. Hot. Exhausting.
But it was also unforgettable.
The unseen glamour lives at the post, in the friendships, in the early mornings, in the shared laughs, in the responsibility, in the pride.
And if someone asked me to do it again tomorrow?
I’d pack my sunscreen, water bottle, set my 4 am alarm, and say yes.
TrackDNA note:
When we first reached out to Yvette and asked if she’d share a story from the other side of the fence, we didn’t expect it to hit this hard. If you’re inspired by her weekend in orange, go follow @MotorsportsMarshal — she’s got plenty more stories from the posts that remind us why we keep coming back to the track. We’re already looking forward to having her back for more, because the DNA of the track doesn’t stop with the rider or the machine; it’s all of us.
Get the Inside Line
Real stories, track insights, and paddock moments — straight from riders who live it. No noise, no fluff, just the DNA of the track delivered to your inbox.
