Sidepodcast

Yesterday we went to the Goodwood Festival of Speed and it was the best day out I have ever had, ever, ever, ever!

The Goodwood Festival of Speed is a celebration of everything that is motorsport, history and present. Cars from now all the way back to pre-War gather in the paddock and let you get closer than you can imagine. Then they take it in turns to race up a hill climb track, that is weirdly one way, and try to get a good time. At various intervals throughout the day and around the festival, there are interviews, signings, displays and stands, all of which are interesting, exciting and worth a look.

Neither of us slept well the previous night. It was raining and stormy and the wind was howling, and it was a good night to discover that our supposedly double-glazed windows actually have plenty of leakages and draughts to make us feel at home. We were both awake at 5am, perhaps partly due to anticipation, perhaps mostly to do with the atrocious weather conditions.

Along the way, I directed “me” off and then back onto the same road that he had just left, but he could not be mad at me because when we arrived, he ignored the car parking signs, drove all the way around the festival perimeter, and parked right back where I suggested in the first place. Touché.

Before we even got in the gate, there were pretty, young things trying to sell us something. I was instantly suspicious, because when “me” enquired what was in the Goodwood emblazoned opaque bag, he was told: “After you hand over the money, mate.” We got into the spirit, however, and handed over a crisp note. The bag contained our souvenir programme that had an incredibly handy map, and some interesting information. More important, though, was the ‘free gift’. Courtesy of The Sunday Times Driving supplement, we were given a free radio. It was a one ear-pieced device, specifically tuned to the Goodwood radio, and meant we were always aware of what was going up and down the hill, who was being interviewed and what was coming up next. It was a shame that there wasn’t a way to buy these things separately, as we could have done with one each. However, strategically placed tannoy-type speakers meant you weren’t too far away from the commentators at any one given time.

The first thing we were confronted with upon entering the area was a Renault display. 2005 Formula 1 champions, they had erected a giant display with plenty of pictures but more importantly, the most recent cars. We headed straight there, partly because “me” loves a good F1 car, and partly because it was undercover and the weather was against us.

Like many of you, I look at this picture and wonder whether his finger slipped on the button, but I am assured this is actually a very good picture and entirely intentional, so there you go.

As we left the Renault homage to itself, the weather took a decided turn for the worse and the rain began to pour. We hurried towards one of the many refreshment tents and managed to bag a seat just before everyone else crammed in the same direction. We indulged in some of my very specially packed lunches, before realising it was only 8:30am.

Some very respectable elder gentleman bagged the two seats opposite us at our table and were very friendly. One remarked how this was better weather for sailing than for Formula 1, and I thought it was better weather for being in bed, not on a boat, but whatever. He also mentioned how he had brought his sunglasses and we all had a good old laugh at him.

Being the brave souls that we are, I dragged Favourite Man out to face the elements, saying that if we hid in the tent now, we would be hidden in there all day. I think it was a valid point.

We headed to the paddock, where the only Formula 1 team awake was Toyota, but a lot of the older motor cars were getting ready. They were featuring in the first batch of cars to head up the hill, and some of them were struggling to get started in the cold and damp weather. One particular engine was making a hell of a lot of noise, and I begged “me” to get us closer so I could see what all the fuss was about. As we neared the noise in question, I could see people were touching their faces and motioning their eyes and I wondered what was going on. Three steps later and I knew. I was blinded. I couldn’t see a thing. I put my head down and pawed at my eyes. Blinking was making my eyes water but I could barely focus on anything. All I could hear was “me” shouting “Keep blinking!” and so I did what he said. As he was leading me away from the cars, all I could see from my obscured view was a ton of feet headed towards me and I began to panic.

Eventually, I blinked enough that things started to look normal again and, although a bit shaken up, I was unharmed. “me” said that usually you just smell diesel fumes and it’s a bit stinky and may sting a little bit, but given the age and the trouble this car was having, it’s likely it was spewing out pure diesel. Whatever it was, I know that it really hurt. Apparently I wasn’t the only one with sore eyes, but I was the only one squealing and panicking. Brilliant. (On a side note, my eyes are very sore today but is this because a) I got blinded, b) I drove a lot yesterday, c) I am tired. Either way, we cannot sue because there are signs everywhere saying Motorsport Is Dangerous, disclaimer, disclaimer. Methinks this may have happened before.)

After ten minutes or so, I was happy and laughing again, proclaiming it to be the most exciting thing that had happened so far that day. You’ve got to wonder how boring a life is to find being blind for five minutes exciting, but there you go.

Still braving the elements, but getting wetter and colder by the second, we started to climb the hill. Let me tell you something, it’s not called a hill climb for nothing. About halfway up, we were absolutely knackered and decided to stop at the convenient viewing area. A batch of Ye Olde Cars went by and then suddenly, we heard it. That’s no ordinary noise. A Formula 1 car. Driven by Giancarlo Fisichella. We heard it coming a mile away. “me” quickly grabbed the camera and held it in position, waiting for the car to emerge from the trees. The noise got closer and closer, the anticipation greater and greater. Our first experience of a Formula 1 car in action, and he missed it.

This is a very hasty aftershot. Who would have thought Formula 1 cars move quickly? Hmm? Who? Honestly. Reaction times need a bit of work I think. Thankfully, whoever designed the track and forgot to make it a complete circuit needs a medal, because the cars have to turn around at the top and come back down a lot slower, giving the man plenty of time to get a decent shot of the car.

There was also an amusing moment, when the radio was talking about Matt Neal climbing the hill in his BTTC winning Halfords team car. The radio was always a little bit ahead of where we were, so we were looking forward to seeing the car appear. “Is it that one?” we asked. “That one? Which one is it?”

“Oh, wait, is it that Team Halford’s car with Neal written all over it?”

We continued our walk up the hill, before realising that the sensible people were waiting for five minutes and getting the tractor trailor ride that was a lot easier. Bugger.

At the top, we went to the next viewing area, and were wondering what to do. There was still an hour before the most exciting batch of cars made their way up the hill. We decided to stop and have lunch. It was 11am. Getting up at 5 o’clock in the morning really throws all the timings out, doesn’t it? Tuning into the radio, we heard that they were actually very ahead of schedule, the next batch of cars was going to be the Formula 1 stars.

And then the sun came out. It was turning into a very promising day.