Lando Norris has spent enough of this winter being photographed next to new-season hardware and talking about “marginal gains” to last most drivers a lifetime. So it was a quietly disarming change of scene to see the reigning world champion step away from McLaren’s 2026 build-up and head back to where his own started: his former primary school.
Chew Stoke Church School, near Bristol, knew there was a chance he might be able to drop in, and it went about the sort of preparation only a primary school can execute with full commitment. When Norris arrived, the whole place was out waving chequered flags, and the pupils had put together a congratulatory board marking his world championship success. There’s something wonderfully British about the contrast: the sport’s biggest prize, and a school hall that still smells faintly of lunch.
Norris, who grew up in the area while his motorsport story gathered pace, wasn’t content with a quick hello and a photo. He spent time with teachers and pupils, addressed the school in assembly, and spoke about perseverance — a theme that, intentionally or not, has become the cleanest summary of his career arc.
Because whatever you think of modern F1’s hype cycle, Norris’ path to the top hasn’t been an overnight coronation. It took him seven seasons in the sport before he finally ticked off that first grand prix win, then he turned that breakthrough into a proper title fight and, a year later, the championship itself. It’s an easy message for a champion to sell — keep going, keep improving, don’t let the setbacks define you — but in his case it lands with a bit more weight than the usual “believe in yourself” script.
He also did the rounds properly. Norris visited every classroom, took questions from each year group, and, in a moment that probably did more to endear him to the pupils than any trophy talk, became race director for the day by waving the chequered flag at scooter races.
When a teacher asked if he remembered much of the school as he was shown around, Norris didn’t go for the polite half-answer. “I remember all of it,” he said.
Headteacher Ben Hewett later described Norris as “really gracious” with his time, signing as many items as he could. The school also revealed Norris had arranged for a gift to be left for every pupil after the visit — a small touch, but one that reads like someone who hasn’t let the title sand the edges off his sense of what matters to other people.
There were lighter moments too. After receiving gifts from the school — including a tea towel — Norris joked he was “pretty sure” his mother, Cisca, still had one from when he was there in the 2000s. Teaching assistant Sue Lewis offered the most deadpan appraisal imaginable: “He hasn’t changed. He’s still a lovely person, as he was then. All he’s done is grow taller!”
The day also served as a neat reminder of how early Norris’ trajectory began. He started karting while he was still a primary school student, and by what would have been his final year before moving on to secondary school he’d already taken third place in the Super 1 National Championship in the Comer Cadet class. That’s not nostalgia; it’s a timeline.
Of course, there’s a more current subtext here. Norris doesn’t have the luxury of living in last year’s glow for long. McLaren’s 2026 campaign is already in motion, and Norris has been putting the hours into the team’s simulator as preparations ramp up. The car’s livery is set to be unveiled on 9 February, with official pre-season testing beginning in Bahrain two days later.
That’s the odd emotional rhythm of being a champion in Formula 1: one foot still in the scenes that made you, the other already planted in the next fight. Norris’ school visit wasn’t a publicity lap in the usual sense — it read more like a deliberate exhale before the season’s noise returns, and a chance to place the title somewhere more grounded than the paddock’s endless churn.
For a sport that can sometimes feel like it only talks in lap time and leverage, it was a refreshingly human detour. Then it’s back to business — because the stopwatch, as ever, doesn’t care where you came from.
