There are events that look good on television, and then there is Formula 1, which almost insults the television screen. Live, first you hear the car from far away, then the sound becomes a physical object hitting you directly in the chest, and only then does the race car zip past. Surrounding you are thousands of people in caps for Ferrari, McLaren, Mercedes, and Red Bull, arguing about the tires as if they personally performed a pit stop yesterday. And half an hour later, you’re shouting at the team engineers, even though this morning you were still asking, «What is DRS?» The effect is especially strong in Baku because the track runs right through the city.

The Formula isn’t hidden twenty miles outside of civilization. In the morning, you’re having coffee in the city center, surrounded by the old walls of Icheri Sheher, the Caspian Sea, and regular streets, and then F1 cars start racing down those very streets. After the sessions conclude, the city transforms back into a massive party. The result is a strange blend of motorsport, city festival, and vacation—where half the crowd is dressed as if they just rolled off a Ferrari merchandise truck.

And this is also where people travel from all over the world. One person might have the Netherlands flag, another might fly in from the United Kingdom for McLaren, and a third from Italy is convinced that Ferrari will get everything right this time. You can meet mechanics and team staff, journalists, former racers, bloggers, and a huge number of people who know the championship statistics better than their own passport numbers. Furthermore, some official ticket categories include concerts and extra activities, such as a tour of the pit lane.

In addition, people travel here from all over the world. One person has the Netherlands flag, another flew in from the UK for McLaren, and a third from Italy is certain that Ferrari will finally get everything right this time. You can meet mechanics and team staff, journalists, former racers, bloggers, and countless people who know the championship statistics better than their own passport numbers. And if you look at some categories of official tickets, the program includes concerts and extra activities like a tour of the pit lane.

But the most important part begins when the starting lights go dark. The Baku Circuit is 6.003 km long, features 20 turns, and requires 51 laps—all while being simultaneously one of the fastest and tightest city circuits in the championship. There is a long straightaway along the Caspian Sea, where speeds of up to 378 km/h were previously recorded, and then the car enters the old city, where the track width narrows to about 7.6 meters around turns eight and nine. In essence, the driver first acts like a rocket pilot and then, a few seconds later, tries to maneuver the car through stone walls, barely wider than a Moscow courtyard.

This is precisely why Baku regularly hosts races that provoke the question, «What just happened?» On the vast straightaway, cars can catch the slipstream of each other and run side-by-side before the first corner. However, in the Old City, there is virtually no room for error: push the speed too hard, lock a wheel—and instead of a graceful arc, you meet a wall up close. During the 2021 qualifying sessions, there were four red flags due to accidents, and in 2025, Oscar Piastri crashed his car on the first lap after a false start. Here, the concrete walls are to the drivers what a professor is to a make-up exam: «I warned you. Next.»

It’s best to watch not just the race itself, but also the qualifying sessions. That’s where the drivers push nearly to the limit, and you can see just how insane their work is. On television, it looks like the car simply turned. From the grandstands, you can see it braking from what feels like interstellar speed, flicking over the curb, and passing inches from the wall. Great spots are Absheron near the first turn, where most of the attacks happen after the main straight, or Icheri Sheher near the Old City, if you want to watch the expensive race cars literally thread the needle.

The 2026 Azerbaijan Grand Prix will take place from September 24–26, with the main race on Saturday, September 26. The first two practice sessions will be held on Thursday, and the third practice and qualifying will take place on Friday. It is best to purchase tickets well in advance through the official F1 or Baku City Circuit websites: at the time of this writing, the official F1 ticketing service shows three-day passes starting around €189, but good seating sections and premium packages cost significantly more. You should also secure accommodation immediately—waiting until the last week before Formula 1 is a sure way to experience scarcity economics firsthand.

Flying directly from Moscow is the easiest option. Azerbaijan Airlines indicates that the direct flight time from Moscow to Baku is approximately three hours. Russian citizens benefit from a visa-free entry into Azerbaijan for up to 90 days, so you do not need to obtain a separate tourist visa just for the race weekend. In practice, I would arrive at least a day before the first session you are interested in: the race doesn’t start when you sit in the stands—it starts when you go out for a walk in Baku in the evening and realize the entire city center is already discussing who has messed up the car setup again.

It is advisable to bring comfortable sneakers, a cap, sunglasses, sunscreen, a light windbreaker, a power bank, and hearing protection. The latter is particularly important if you plan to spend several hours near the track. Baku can have strong winds coming off the Caspian Sea, and you will be walking a lot inside the racing zone, so new shoes that are «pretty but are chafing» are not a good idea. Your phone will be running on fumes by midday: taking photos of cars, recording the start, using the track app, maps, and sending friends messages like «OMG, you should hear this» will drain the battery with surprising efficiency.

Don’t reduce the trip to just three days spent sitting on plastic grandstands. Explore the old city, see the Maiden Tower, and in the evening, head to the embankment to try the local cuisine. This is the advantage Baku has over a classic racetrack: the race weekend is integrated into a real city, and you don’t have to drive an hour across the field to find the nearest sign of human life between qualifying and dinner. F1 itself names the city and its food as reasons to come to this Grand Prix.

Why spend money and travel somewhere when you can watch the race at home in excellent quality? It’s for the same reason people go to concerts even though Spotify exists. Seeing Formula 1 live finally conveys the sheer scale of the event. Speed stops being just a number on a screen—it becomes something slightly terrifying. You feel the car brake, hear the gear shifts, see how close the driver is to the wall, and you jump with thousands of other people when someone initiates an attack.
And the most dangerous part happens after you get home. You get into your own car, accelerate up to the legal 60 km/h, and realize for the first time that compared to what you witnessed in Baku for three days, humanity has given you not a car, but a shameful wheeled seat.