Now that’s what I call a sporting weekend

OK it’s Friday & I still don’t think I’ve recovered from last weekend, & not just because we got on the lash, but because I went all sporty. I’m not talking about that nasty type of sport when you have to run around & exert yourself but the good type that you can do with a beer in your hand & exertion means cheering like a mad man.
We started on Saturday with the prologue (Qualifying) for the Tour de France (Ever noticed how people always put of a crappy French accent whenever they say that) there were reports of over 4 million people were spread out over the 8km course, I don’t know about that but there were FAR too many people. I was once again tempted to revert to primary school playground behaviour & start swinging my arm while walking forward & if anyone gets hit it’s there fault, but I’m not sure if the old bill would see it my way.
To be honest I’m not really that into guys in lycra, so the highlight was a small lorikeet type bird & the gendarmes (France motorcycle police).

He may look tough but I bet he would lie down if you showed him a Panzer tank.

After wandering thought Hyde Park trying to find where we could get out of the in-track without running across it (Another thing I the think the coppers would not smile about) we finally got out around the Serpentine Gallery which reminded me how cool the playstation game ‘The Getaway’ was (a computer game set in London with 10 square miles accurately mapped out) as I could see the back door & driveway you leave by after killing heaps of Triads.
Then onto Albert Hall with a bloody big statue of, I’m guessing Albert outside. I thought thespians liked a wee pint but good luck trying to find a pub anywhere near the hall.
We finally found a bar & after a couple of pots our mate Simon had decided to come to the F1 with us the next day, & didn’t care if he had to blag his way in or pay through the teeth (He ended up getting in for the same price as me!).
So after an average pub dinner we figured we would pop back to Clapham, have a couple & be tucked up in bed for the early start of 5am Sunday.
At this point I need to explain that England has finally bought in the no smoking inside law last week…And I LOVE IT!
a) I smoke so many less fags over a course of a night and
b) You meet wicked random people whist having your cigarette because lets face it, only cool people smoke.
So about 11ish I pop outside for a chuff, get chatting to some lasses & before I know it I’m having to say goodbye at 2ish, otherwise there would have been no way of making it for the 5am kick off.
I shouldn’t have worried as Chris woke up at 5 but couldn’t be arsed getting out of bed till 6 when I rung him to find out where he was.
Helpful hint for going to the British GP, pay the extra £95 and get the helicopter there. 1.5 hour to get within 5 mile of the place then another 1.5 hours to get there…Double that when heading home.
Owww F1 is there anything better? I think not!
Before I start, the Red Arrows did a display before the race…Helen can you please buy some jets for the NZRAF…they’ve only been around since the late 1940s!
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Anyone reading this would have heard me rant before so I’ll limit myself. You never get used to the sheer volume of noise those bad boys make, & sitting at the main overtaking points on the track when one of the fastest cars are starting from the back of the grid is ALLLLLLL GOOD!After the race (I was at the track so had no idea where my boys had ended up) we went to have a look at the BMW F1 pit lane park which is very very cool. It’s all hands on so you can pick up a F1 front wing, compare a normal alloy wheel to a F1 wheel –Twice the size & 1/3 of the weight or a normal disc brake & a F1 disc brake –looks like it’s made out of cardboard & weights the same. But you haven’t lived until you’ve been a metre away from a F1 car doing donuts – Excuse I need some quite time. Plus I meet up with some F1 hussies and got a photo…I gave them my number & am now waiting by the phone for them to call.
We finally got home about 10 o’clock that night but the icing on the cake was seeing a Bugatti Varon (the fastest, most powerful and most expensive street legal full production car in the world) cursing along the M40.Cheers for Chris for once again being a demon driver.

Ok then to finish off here are my F1 tables.
Driver ChampionshipConstructors ChampionshipGrid PositionsPlacings