1) It's about 8:45am, we've driven here, parked up at Abbey, paid £20 (each) to get it, walked over two bridges and the Paddock is in sight. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. It's amazing what you can do when you're used to getting up early for work. Next stop, the Public Pit Stop Walk.
2) After a long wander, thanks to people in
fluorescent jackets being friendly but having no idea where said Public Pit Walk starts, we eventually find the end of the queue. Some people have tickets, some don't (us included).
Hmm. We get talking to a couple of blokes with tickets and mention that we couldn't find a way of booking them via the website. No, they say,
we tried that, so when we 'phoned up for our Sunday Grandstand tickets we mentioned it. We were told we could only book them by 'phone. Cost £25 a pop.
Hmmm. OK, we say, enjoy yer
Pit Walk! Seems the world is not as modern as we thought. Who'd have thunk you had to use the
olde-fashioned 'phone to book something up. Very
bizarre. The Programme encourages folk to take the Public Pit Walk. It says that 'some of the teams might open their garage doors'.
Hmm, that's a lot of dosh for a '
might'.
3) So, it's off to the National Paddock for us. It's free and we might spot someone famous.
Yay! It's Michael Rutter proving he can walk, talk, and smile for the camera all at once. Clever bloke. Mind you, he was born in God's Country so he has an advantage over most mere mortals.
4) About £8
k's worth of lids right there. David says he'll have the one on the top row, second left. Vicky says she'll have the one bottom left. Trouble is we haven't got a 'bike anymore.
5) Time to head over to the Paddock Cafe (which the public can access) for some
scran. On the way we get a call via Howard the Trucker's mobile saying that he's delivered Casey and Nicky's
Ducatis and he's free to join us for some breakfast and hard-core spectating. When we get there Vicky orders two teas and two eggs on toast, one with one egg, and one with two. The lad behind the counter is confused. This does not compute. Eventually he susses it out. So, one's got one egg and the other two? Yes, that's right, we confirm. Not difficult, is it?
6) There's a lull in activity on-track (practice doesn't start until midday) so it's back to the National Paddock to see what's
occurring.
Yay, it's John
McGuinness. It's just like being at the
TT but without having to suffer the dodgy ferry and the questionable B & B's.
7) With midday rapidly approaching, it's time to find a grandstand seat. We head for
Luffield/
Woodcote (as per usual). We were worried that our general
admission ticket
isn't valid for the stands but it is. Bargain. It's not long before 'The Lads' arrive. They've got everything they need for a day's spectating. Chairs? Check. Beer? Check. Wheelbarrow to cart the beer around in? Check. Coats and food? Nah, naff-
orff!
Whatcha fink we are,
pooftas?
8) We've moved to the Start Line Grandstand for the 125' and
Moto GP sessions.
Hmm, thinks Vicky, it's a great view from here but
Dave'll have a job getting photos from this far back. Still, it keeps him entertained, eh?
9) The main man and the reason that Vicky was so keen to attend this year's GP. We have watched Loris
Capirossi since he was the '
Bisto Kid' on the 125's back in the day at
Donington Park. Soon he will inevitably retire. We shall miss him.
10) The weather forecast said we would be '
very unlucky' to get a shower today. We are unlucky. Just before the end of the
Moto GP session it begins to drizzle. By 3:00pm it's that light rain that gets you soaked. We move under the roof of
the stand but it is no good. It is cold and we need sustenance. We give the start of the
Moto2 session a miss and head for the foodies. We have one portion of chicken and chips between us. The Food Police are only half-appalled. We feel much better and head back to the
Luffield/
Woodcote section for the end of
Moto2.
11) By 4:30pm the
Superstocks are out and it's, ahem. p*
ssing down. many people are drifting towards the exits.
12) We decide to head for the new Arena Section to watch the 250's before deciding whether it is worth staying to watch England v Algeria game on the Big Screen. We have got our sensible coats on but we bet there are loads of people who wish they were dressed for the weather like the
medis and marshals.
13) We arrive at the Arena as the 250's hit the track just before 6. At that precise moment Stolen ID, the evening's entertainment, start up. They
rawk, in a kinda
karaoke-pub-rock sort of way. Would be good on a sunny summer's evening. trouble is it is now cold, windy and wet. Most folk have gone home and the audience is, ahem, sparse to say the least. Shame. Looks like we will have to head home and brave the Friday evening traffic.
14) David is excited. He has managed to
persuade Vicky that we still have
time to take a quick view from Abbey and get a photo of the new Pits/Paddock complex being built. Good, eh? Now it's time to head back to the car, eat our packed lunches (we couldn't be bothered to lug them around all day). It is so cold that the ice blocks in the cool bag are still frozen after almost 12 hours. Good old
Silverstone. It's 6:45pm and now it's just the question of a 90 minute drive home. We might miss a bit of the match but it doesn't matter. Our
Brave Boys will do the business against Algeria. Bound to (oh yes).
1) It's about 8:45am, we've driven here, parked up at Abbey, paid £20 (each) to get it, walked over two bridges and the Paddock is in sight. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. It's amazing what you can do when you're used to getting up early for work. Next stop, the Public Pit Stop Walk.
2) After a long wander, thanks to people in fluorescent jackets being friendly but having no idea where said Public Pit Walk starts, we eventually find the end of the queue. Some people have tickets, some don't (us included). Hmm. We get talking to a couple of blokes with tickets and mention that we couldn't find a way of booking them via the website. No, they say, we tried that, so when we 'phoned up for our Sunday Grandstand tickets we mentioned it. We were told we could only book them by 'phone. Cost £25 a pop. Hmmm. OK, we say, enjoy yer Pit Walk! Seems the world is not as modern as we thought. Who'd have thunk you had to use the olde-fashioned 'phone to book something up. Very bizarre. The Programme encourages folk to take the Public Pit Walk. It says that 'some of the teams might open their garage doors'. Hmm, that's a lot of dosh for a 'might'.
3) So, it's off to the National Paddock for us. It's free and we might spot someone famous. Yay! It's Michael Rutter proving he can walk, talk, and smile for the camera all at once. Clever bloke. Mind you, he was born in God's Country so he has an advantage over most mere mortals.
4) About £8k's worth of lids right there. David says he'll have the one on the top row, second left. Vicky says she'll have the one bottom left. Trouble is we haven't got a 'bike anymore.
5) Time to head over to the Paddock Cafe (which the public can access) for some scran. On the way we get a call via Howard the Trucker's mobile saying that he's delivered Casey and Nicky's Ducatis and he's free to join us for some breakfast and hard-core spectating. When we get there Vicky orders two teas and two eggs on toast, one with one egg, and one with two. The lad behind the counter is confused. This does not compute. Eventually he susses it out. So, one's got one egg and the other two? Yes, that's right, we confirm. Not difficult, is it?
6) There's a lull in activity on-track (practice doesn't start until midday) so it's back to the National Paddock to see what's occurring. Yay, it's John McGuinness. It's just like being at the TT but without having to suffer the dodgy ferry and the questionable B & B's.
7) With midday rapidly approaching, it's time to find a grandstand seat. We head for Luffield/Woodcote (as per usual). We were worried that our general admission ticket isn't valid for the stands but it is. Bargain. It's not long before 'The Lads' arrive. They've got everything they need for a day's spectating. Chairs? Check. Beer? Check. Wheelbarrow to cart the beer around in? Check. Coats and food? Nah, naff-orff! Whatcha fink we are, pooftas?
8) We've moved to the Start Line Grandstand for the 125' and Moto GP sessions. Hmm, thinks Vicky, it's a great view from here but Dave'll have a job getting photos from this far back. Still, it keeps him entertained, eh?
9) The main man and the reason that Vicky was so keen to attend this year's GP. We have watched Loris Capirossi since he was the 'Bisto Kid' on the 125's back in the day at Donington Park. Soon he will inevitably retire. We shall miss him.
10) The weather forecast said we would be 'very unlucky' to get a shower today. We are unlucky. Just before the end of the Moto GP session it begins to drizzle. By 3:00pm it's that light rain that gets you soaked. We move under the roof of the stand but it is no good. It is cold and we need sustenance. We give the start of the Moto2 session a miss and head for the foodies. We have one portion of chicken and chips between us. The Food Police are only half-appalled. We feel much better and head back to the Luffield/Woodcote section for the end of Moto2.
11) By 4:30pm the Superstocks are out and it's, ahem. p*ssing down. many people are drifting towards the exits.
12) We decide to head for the new Arena Section to watch the 250's before deciding whether it is worth staying to watch England v Algeria game on the Big Screen. We have got our sensible coats on but we bet there are loads of people who wish they were dressed for the weather like the medis and marshals.
13) We arrive at the Arena as the 250's hit the track just before 6. At that precise moment Stolen ID, the evening's entertainment, start up. They rawk, in a kinda karaoke-pub-rock sort of way. Would be good on a sunny summer's evening. trouble is it is now cold, windy and wet. Most folk have gone home and the audience is, ahem, sparse to say the least. Shame. Looks like we will have to head home and brave the Friday evening traffic.
14) David is excited. He has managed to persuade Vicky that we still have time to take a quick view from Abbey and get a photo of the new Pits/Paddock complex being built. Good, eh? Now it's time to head back to the car, eat our packed lunches (we couldn't be bothered to lug them around all day). It is so cold that the ice blocks in the cool bag are still frozen after almost 12 hours. Good old Silverstone. It's 6:45pm and now it's just the question of a 90 minute drive home. We might miss a bit of the match but it doesn't matter. Our Brave Boys will do the business against Algeria. Bound to (oh yes).
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