The Great British Summer time continued with a months worth of rain. (Thats the 18th time i've heard that this month) It literally shat it down most of the day. Such is the weather it's now lead story on the evening news and has knocked Andy Murray off the front page of the national press.
I know its unusual but are we really that dull? It's now acceptable to moan about the weather, they should really rush it through to become an Olympic sport. Team GB would cream it.
I woke with as much enthusiasm for my day as Bob Diamond does for social justice. I was popping my F1 cherry for Qualifying. I have an all weekend pass as guest of a client who sponsor Marussia F1 team. Not the VIP pass i hasten to add, more the 'one up from the plankton' type VIP. It's basically public tickets with a goody bag. Still i must learn to be grateful, and what of my day?
Now i've never been a motor sport fan. Cars don't interest me. As far as i'm concerned they are there to get from A to B and chuck litter in the back. My brother is mad for it, i on the other hand have about as much interest in it as Kerry Katonia does for taste. I've always viewed F1 as a massive waste of time. However on the other hand I associate F1 with glitz, glamour, wealth & fit women. So i set off with a strange mix of anticipation of bumping into Tamara Ecclestone & a dread of utter boredom.
The Radio reported that Silverstone had shut car parks due to extreme flooding and mudbaths. Good sign, so i stopped off to buy some wellies. £10 Sainsburys. Get in. Too Good to be True, surely.
I reached Near Silverstone in good time, the team had taken over Stowe School for the weekend for sponsors, so we had parking, and a sponsors party there later. In meantime collected goody bags, and packed lunch, a small mobile TV and crucially ear plugs before being ferried to the circuit a mile away.
You could hear the noise from the track already but I was struck how beautiful Stowe School was. Old, massive, grand, immaculate oh and £10k a term for your little one. Ouch. That's about £10 for every yard the driveway was. Imposing.
On the way to the track we passed all the campsites, covered in mud and puddles, vehicles stuck, people were even camped on roundabouts. What the fuck? Insane. Who the fuck would camp in this weather? Who the fuck would camp on a roundabout. There were thousands of people. Mud or rain didn't put them off. They showed up and camped anywhere, even in piles of shit and rivers of mud. Genuinely mad. Only the Brits would do such a thing. The rest of Europe would shrug and say 'next year'. Oh no, the Brits pride themselves on adversity and putting up with stuff.
They call it character, I call it stupid.
There were thousands of these people. All getting into the track with logo hats, anoraks, combat trousers. Boots, earpieces and badges. Oh yes i had forgot these events a vast majority who attend are what we in Britain call 'enthusiasts'. Or as i like to call them 'wankers'.
Camping on roundabouts in mud, listening to Radio 5 live and actually enjoying it. What the fuck is wrong with these people. Standing around in the rain all day watching snatches of cars flying past, supping on cans of 'old speckled Hen' and munching home made Cheese sandwiches.
I got in Gate 16, near a stand opposite the pit lane on the home straight and was immediately struck how there was absolutely fuck all at the track. Some burger, fish, crepe vans, bars, merchandise trucks and totally nothing else. The space is vast with open stands, roofed stands and walkways all around. But there is nothing else and no-one gave a toss.
it was pissing down of course, i found my clients in a stand and settled into my seat. I was struck by how many families, kids and women were attending, which surprised me, but of course how many blokes, all kitted out with the correct 'fan' attire. I don't know what a Scientology rally is, but i should imagine it would be attended by those surrounding me.
In all fairness the seats were great, could see down the straight and into the 1st corner and i also had a TV and sound to keep up to speed (pun intended) with everything.
1pm came, you could here the scream and high pitched noise of F1 cars and out they came for qualifying. I have to say, i wasn't expecting it but i got a huge buzz, it was the noise, the smell, the speed and the power of these beasts screaming along in front of me. Suddenly i got why people love it, there is a magic x factor it gives you and there was lots of adrenaline running through me. Fuck knows what it must be like to drive one but i would shit my guts within 2 seconds. Mental.
I was so surprised as i actually enjoyed it....for 15 mins, then it became a bit samey, pissed down, they stopped qualifying, i got rained on , super wet, began shivering, hands went numb, reminding myself i am lucky to be here. I glanced across at the pit lane at the £4,000 per head VIP's who were all hanging over balcony with glass in hand, warm and comfy massive suites behind them. Then i looked at The rest of the people in my area, opposite those VIP bastards. We were the real people, some had sat in the Grandstand since 9am and were staying all day. I asked myself, who's side would i like to be on? It's a no fucking brainer, VIP for Christ sake. Fuck this rain, cold, Grandstand, boring fucking glimpse a car for less time than it takes me to shoot my load. Fuck the General Public, the enthusiasts, why the fuck sit there all day? I guess Probably because they couldn't go back to their fucking tents on the roundabout. Weirdos.
The afternoon was spent driving to a local village to have a pub lunch with the boys, all pubs stopped serving at 3pm (i forgot in the sticks it is a different world) The only place that was open was a cafe, run by clucky old women who's 'light bites' on the menu was Burger and Chips or Omlette or Chips. On the The rest of the menu were 6 different styles of cooked breakfast. All the same just with ingredients swopped around. Earthy.
Thats the glamour of F1. I bet Bernie and Tamra Ecclestone have never chowed down on bacon rind in Bees Knees cafe in Buckingham with a screaming baby and waitress with a speech impediment in a pinny. This is true glamour. Fuck the models, the Paparazzi, the motor homes and glitz. We were in the Bees fucking Knees, this is what it's all about. Fuck the canapes and Mouse. bring on the rind.
It was then back to the school, where there was a sponsors and guests party, BBQ and band. Another great opportunity to talk to loads of people i have nothing in common and pretend to be interested in. Fab. But first i had to wait around for 2 hours before it began.
It was at this point as i was losing the will to live i made the radical decision to fuck off home. I made my excuses, jumped in the car, dropped it down to reverse, took the corner at 5mph and gently rolled out to the M40 and home. Thank fuck.
Can't wait until tomorrow for race day.
Thrilled
xx
Great as usual :)
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