October 10, 2009
September 26, 2009
September 25, 2009
DAY 7... THE DREAM'S TRAGIC ENDING....
.
So Rob and Al got to race around the ring. We have footage of the Honda and the Golf expertly driven at high speed around The Nordschleife; the most dangerous and demanding purpose built motor racing circuit in the world.
Ironically it was to be a glorious last breath; for on the way to pick up Simsie who had been filming the car going around the track Rob was involved in an accident with a man in a rental vehicle and left the road.
The adventure came to a dramatic conclusion; and if the intention was to go to the knackers' yard The Bollards' bright pink nd yellow car did it in uncompromising style...
She will be lovingly remembered and sadly missed.
So Rob and Al got to race around the ring. We have footage of the Honda and the Golf expertly driven at high speed around The Nordschleife; the most dangerous and demanding purpose built motor racing circuit in the world.
Ironically it was to be a glorious last breath; for on the way to pick up Simsie who had been filming the car going around the track Rob was involved in an accident with a man in a rental vehicle and left the road.
The adventure came to a dramatic conclusion; and if the intention was to go to the knackers' yard The Bollards' bright pink nd yellow car did it in uncompromising style...
She will be lovingly remembered and sadly missed.
DAY 7... FROM HOCKENHEIM TO THE NURBURGRING...
.
A relatively easy day. We're missing Waldorf and Stadler already. The Bollards and The Bolts arrive at the infamous Nürburgring at 16h00 and set about negotiating to get the cars onto the racetrack....
A relatively easy day. We're missing Waldorf and Stadler already. The Bollards and The Bolts arrive at the infamous Nürburgring at 16h00 and set about negotiating to get the cars onto the racetrack....
September 24, 2009
DAY 6...BOLOGNA TO MANNHEIM; 3 COUNTRIES IN A DAY!
.
The longest haul yet. Back up though Italy (where we all buy bottles of balsamic vinegar at the services - as you do) and on into Austria over the Brennen pass. We stop in Austria for a spot of schnitzel and a water top up for the car. Snowboard Mic fills up our petrol tank at the services where we add a rather charming plastic metallic cuckoo clock to the sticker collection on the lid of the boot.
It's a long, long drive, Day 6, and Robbit does it all on his own. From Austria it's into Germany; around Stuttgart and up to the town of Walldorf where quite appropriately, and with much weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth we bid Waldorf and Stadler a fond adieu. Then it's on to Hockenheim where we book into a hotel for the night. Here we are joined by Herr Zang (grosse), Herr Zang (kleine) and an acoustic guitar. With Bolt major on the spoons we have ourselves a 'raasorkes'. Much Bitburger is consumed but we are all now looking a little road weary. Tomorrow is an easy day.
The longest haul yet. Back up though Italy (where we all buy bottles of balsamic vinegar at the services - as you do) and on into Austria over the Brennen pass. We stop in Austria for a spot of schnitzel and a water top up for the car. Snowboard Mic fills up our petrol tank at the services where we add a rather charming plastic metallic cuckoo clock to the sticker collection on the lid of the boot.
It's a long, long drive, Day 6, and Robbit does it all on his own. From Austria it's into Germany; around Stuttgart and up to the town of Walldorf where quite appropriately, and with much weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth we bid Waldorf and Stadler a fond adieu. Then it's on to Hockenheim where we book into a hotel for the night. Here we are joined by Herr Zang (grosse), Herr Zang (kleine) and an acoustic guitar. With Bolt major on the spoons we have ourselves a 'raasorkes'. Much Bitburger is consumed but we are all now looking a little road weary. Tomorrow is an easy day.
THE EVENING OF DAY 5 IN THE GASTRONOMIC CAPITAL OF THE UNIVERSE... AND BEYOND!
.
All in all... a culturally enlightening evening. Spaghetti Bolognese is a lie!. Spaghetti comes from Naples... Tagliatelli is what the Bolognese eat... with a minced meat sauce.. It was like learning that Father Christmas is your parents... or that the tooth fairy is your parents.... Pffft!. Thanks to Sue West (who will from this time hence be known as Winnie West cos it sounds funnier), and her inner circle of beautiful friends who turned out to laugh at us... thanks guys; you made Bologna an incomprehensibly wonderful place... and the food was superb (Belch!)
All in all... a culturally enlightening evening. Spaghetti Bolognese is a lie!. Spaghetti comes from Naples... Tagliatelli is what the Bolognese eat... with a minced meat sauce.. It was like learning that Father Christmas is your parents... or that the tooth fairy is your parents.... Pffft!. Thanks to Sue West (who will from this time hence be known as Winnie West cos it sounds funnier), and her inner circle of beautiful friends who turned out to laugh at us... thanks guys; you made Bologna an incomprehensibly wonderful place... and the food was superb (Belch!)
September 23, 2009
DAY 5... THE TURN FOR HOME.
.
High on romance and paracetamol and with the umbilical cord of organization now severed, the three teams turn North and head for home. It is deemed rude and culturally disrespectful not to hurtle past the Collay-See-Um at 50 miles an hour on our way out of the city; and to take a picture of it out of the car window. En route we take a pictures of a few other buildings in need of repair and/or double glazing... Culturally satiated (and richer for the experience) we join the A1 and head off to spend the night with Waldorf's sister in Bologna...
High on romance and paracetamol and with the umbilical cord of organization now severed, the three teams turn North and head for home. It is deemed rude and culturally disrespectful not to hurtle past the Collay-See-Um at 50 miles an hour on our way out of the city; and to take a picture of it out of the car window. En route we take a pictures of a few other buildings in need of repair and/or double glazing... Culturally satiated (and richer for the experience) we join the A1 and head off to spend the night with Waldorf's sister in Bologna...
THE EVENING OF DAY 4... "AND THE WINNER IS....?!?"
.
So the final day ends in Piazza Navona, outside a restaurant that charges €8.00 for a pint, with an awards ceremony conducted by a man (Just-In) standing on a chair with a megaphone in his hand. Not quite the Oscars; but very much in keeping with the spirit of the event.
Not unsurprisingly The Bollards, U Sane Bolt and the Escort Agency win.... nothing... nada... nyet, zip, zilch. However, we cheer ourselves up later by watching The G, on bended knee, proposing to Simsie... formally, in a restaurant in Rome. Simsie says "Yes!" and there are speeches. The engagement ring is fashioned by Robbit from a serviette with the requisite sparkle provided by Waldorf's cheap green Chinese laser pointer. It is explained that this is a temporary fix...
After the moving ceremony the chaps retire to a roadside beer vendor and settle down on the banks of the mighty river that flows though Rome reminding ourselves of the absolute stupidity of the undertaking.
So the final day ends in Piazza Navona, outside a restaurant that charges €8.00 for a pint, with an awards ceremony conducted by a man (Just-In) standing on a chair with a megaphone in his hand. Not quite the Oscars; but very much in keeping with the spirit of the event.
Not unsurprisingly The Bollards, U Sane Bolt and the Escort Agency win.... nothing... nada... nyet, zip, zilch. However, we cheer ourselves up later by watching The G, on bended knee, proposing to Simsie... formally, in a restaurant in Rome. Simsie says "Yes!" and there are speeches. The engagement ring is fashioned by Robbit from a serviette with the requisite sparkle provided by Waldorf's cheap green Chinese laser pointer. It is explained that this is a temporary fix...
After the moving ceremony the chaps retire to a roadside beer vendor and settle down on the banks of the mighty river that flows though Rome reminding ourselves of the absolute stupidity of the undertaking.
September 21, 2009
DAY 3... DOWN A HEOWGE CHUNK OF ITALY, UNBOILED AND UNBROKEN
.
What can be said?
The morning began with about a hundred 'up-for-it' bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Stigs in a running (and violent) water pistol battle... and ended with a lot of bleary-eyed (no relation to Hazel) grizzled rallyists convening on a little bar in the arse-end of Viterbo for a series of arguments about the cost of the pizzas and the lack of beer... one hell of a day.
Tomorrow...? Rome!... The Colay-see-um... and Russell Crowe (an Australian with a penchant for playing Englishmen) tackling a few Lions (mostly African with a penchant for eating Englishmen and Australians) to the jeers of a hundred motoring (mostly) Englishmen (and women) hellbent of making fools of themselves... anyway; here's to today, Day 3...
What can be said?
The morning began with about a hundred 'up-for-it' bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Stigs in a running (and violent) water pistol battle... and ended with a lot of bleary-eyed (no relation to Hazel) grizzled rallyists convening on a little bar in the arse-end of Viterbo for a series of arguments about the cost of the pizzas and the lack of beer... one hell of a day.
Tomorrow...? Rome!... The Colay-see-um... and Russell Crowe (an Australian with a penchant for playing Englishmen) tackling a few Lions (mostly African with a penchant for eating Englishmen and Australians) to the jeers of a hundred motoring (mostly) Englishmen (and women) hellbent of making fools of themselves... anyway; here's to today, Day 3...
September 19, 2009
HOLEY CHEESE, COWBELLS AND CUCKOO CLOCKS...
.
Wha-hey! We've now done over 1,000 miles since leaving Salford and we've crossed France (the quick flat way) and we've crossed Switzerland (the very slow up and down way) and here we are, in Aprica in Italy, having panicked our way through an overheating crisis.
Wha-hey! We've now done over 1,000 miles since leaving Salford and we've crossed France (the quick flat way) and we've crossed Switzerland (the very slow up and down way) and here we are, in Aprica in Italy, having panicked our way through an overheating crisis.
YESTERDAY WAS GLENROY'S BIRTHDAY...
.
Happy Birthday Glen... no, we really mean it.
What better way to spend your birthday than sitting on your arse watching France pass by? And, in the evening, to have a party in Swizzer-Land with a €20 per head slap-up chicken "curry" dinner.... drizzled with tinned fruit (including the cherries) and a disco with wazzy fluorescent strip lighting and shite choons.
Glen; you are one lucky mo'fo!
(And, for those of you who don't know what Glen looks like, here's Graham with a quick reminder...)
Happy Birthday Glen... no, we really mean it.
What better way to spend your birthday than sitting on your arse watching France pass by? And, in the evening, to have a party in Swizzer-Land with a €20 per head slap-up chicken "curry" dinner.... drizzled with tinned fruit (including the cherries) and a disco with wazzy fluorescent strip lighting and shite choons.
Glen; you are one lucky mo'fo!
(And, for those of you who don't know what Glen looks like, here's Graham with a quick reminder...)
September 17, 2009
September 16, 2009
September 15, 2009
September 14, 2009
September 13, 2009
September 12, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
