This article was originally posted on a personal website and is published here for posterity.

Everytime I caught a whiff of some diesel-related product, I would instantly tense up. It's amazing how your body reacts to things. I really didn't want to go blind again, no matter how well I had laughed off the previous incident. The paddock was really starting to have a lot of diesel smells but I braved it out and we started trawling the F1 awnings, now that they were all up and about.

Nico Rosberg was signing more autographs, and Jackie Stewart was talking to plenty of people. Ferrari were kind enough to bring a 2004 car, so, you know, we could really see how the technology is developing(!). Oh, and McLaren were handing out free magazines that usually cost around a fiver. Of course, these were also pretty old, having special features such as a Track Guide, and 2006 Season Preview. Hmm, thanks for that.

Having realised it was Davidson driving the car, having missed the guy at the Honda hospitality tent and having seen there was no-one at the Honda awning, I was beginning to think that my chances of seeing the famed Jenson Button were slim to none. But then we turned around and saw that people were beginning to pile-up next to the Honda tent. We joined the queue, and as they moved the barriers back to make room, we managed to worm our way to the front.

I was stood behind Mr C, as I usually am when it comes to photo taking opportunities. He is much taller than I, can reach further and generally get much better access for good pictures. I was caught amongst a lot of small Japanese girls who were more than a little excited at the prospect of seeing the bearded one. Suddenly, there he was. I couldn't get any words out, and tugged on Mr C shirt, but he, like everyone else, hadn't spotted the new arrival.

Casually, Jenson Button waltzed on the scene, and I am proud to admit that I spotted him first, even if I could do nothing about it. He was in the tent for a while, talking to the team and generally being sociable.

That's John Button, by the way, Jenson's father. (You have to get in with the in-laws!) And if you didn't believe me about how short Anthony Davidson is, that's his head in the corner of the photo. See? I wasn't just being mean.

Jenson, Anthony and the team posed for lots of press photographs and then Jenson wandered around the crowd and signed some autographs.

The Japanese girls behind me went crazy, and there were elbows flying everywhere, and little people jumping up and down to get a better view. A woman that was stood nearby answered her phone: "Hello? Yes, I'm at the Honda garage. No, I'm not leaving until I get what I want." I sniggered to myself and thought she would be waiting a long time, and if she was going to get that, she would have to get past me first!

Once the press had gone, the barriers were moved forward. Everyone pushed and bundled forward, and I found my face being squashed into Mr C's back. We went further and further forward and I started to get a bit panicky. I'd been really good with the crowds up until that point, but the sheer amount of people, and the fact they were all herding in my direction meant I just had to get out.

We turned tail and pushed our way back out of the crowd. Mr C led me out the way of all the people and we took some nice big steps and breaths of fresh air around the back of the tent.

Suddenly, Jenson appeared across the fence, heading back to the hospitality area. Mr C took off running, while I stayed where I was, recovering. Apparently, he ran straight past Jenson, knowing where he was walking to, and then knelt right in his path to get pictures. How paparazzi is that?

I'm a little bit annoyed, to be honest with you. I've always been very cool about my appreciation of Mr B. No one could ever prove that I had any sort of inappropriate feelings about him and it was always something I could deny if it ever came up in conversation.

But the fact that I have posted so many pictures of the man in the last two days can't be a coincidence can it? Actions really do speak louder than words.