F1NGERS - Monaco 2003

Early starts all round and we're in the breakfast room at the hotel Kent. (As the week progressed the "e" became a "u") A croissant, a bread roll and a cup of coffee all round for a mere 9 Euro. When one chooses to stay in these fancy places, you have to accept that the dining will be somewhat expensive. In fairness, the coffee was superb.

We have removed one of the seats from the MPV leaving 6. It is discussed over breakfast who is to go in who's car. The BLUE car (the cool ones) are to be me, Dave Parker, Charlie, Elena & Toof. The RED car is to be Bob, Pat, Mr & Mrs Rotor. (The fag thing) I excuse myself from the table to figure out the CD player and stuff for the long trek to Maranello via Monte Carlo. Whilst in the car, I discover it has electric sliding doors. Man, how cool is that! By the time we handed the cars back, I was damn close to figuring out which button on the key fob was for left and which one was for right. This was after I'd garrotted Charlie - twice! I leave firm instruction that an 0700 departure is the order of the day. By 0700 the blue car is ready to rock and roll - then 5 past, then 10 past, then finally at quarter past the superbly parked RED car is ready to go. "Just as well we don't have a long 4 hour journey ahead of us then eh?" (Bob managed to park the car in a mere 14 attempts - pretty impressive we thought)

It's not such a nice morning, raining a wee bit however now at least we're on our way to Monaco. As we get nearer so the rain increases and there's much talk of a wet race at the weekend. IDC and I had a conversation before we left for the trip about who should navigate. The conversation filled me with confidence when Dave told me that he was TOP NOTCH at map reading and giving directions. Like he's been doing it since he was 10 years old and everyone always asks him to direct them coz he like rox. Charlie being 6 foot 3 has other ideas however and claims the front seat. "If you snooze you lose Davie".

Now reaching Monte Carlo and the traffic really builds up because we're 15 frikkin minutes late. As we wait we see a truck stop to our right with Renault trucks, Jag trucks, F3000 trucks and a run-down old camper van. "Is that Jack's motor home down there?" being one of many quips. Sure enough we eventually get to where we want to be with the Casino directly facing us. In spite of me having been before, Bob reckons he knows a better way (this was to be a recurring theme which really never got old) and promptly gets lost. HA! The BLUE car on the other hand have made a right and are on the run down from Casino to Mirabeau, then round Lowes, Portier and ......... and .........."Man, I hope the tunnel's open ......... As we round the right hander ........"WOOOOHOOOOOOO".

As we toured around we were slowing right down to have a super fast run through the tunnel. On the 2nd run we had a fantastic gap and we pushing as hard as we could. We hit the apex of the right hand kink in the tunnel and WHAMMO if some inconsiderate tosser hasn't gone and parked his white van right on the blind bend! "WHHHHOOOOAAAAA" and a sharp prodding of the middle peddle and we're all good. IDC asks us to slow down to a snails pace to make sure he gets the shot - I mean "pfffffffft".

As I'm sure you'd expect, we did fly as fast as we could around the track. We were taking plenty of kerb and in spite of there being shit loads of traffic, we also managed a standing start from pole (where else!) position. HA! High revs, wet track and "GO GO GO GO". Much wheel spinning and hilarity ensues.

As we get to the top of Beau Rivage and turn right towards Casino, there's a no entry sign at the Hotel de Paris. Pfffffft - I'm a tourist so I'm doing it - and we did! We finally caught back up with the RED car during a track blockage and we stop on the next lap at Casino Square to point out the Café de Paris rooftop we'll be on during Thursday. A collective "WOW!" from both cars.

There was a collective excitement about these 3 laps of Monaco. It was just incredible. Here we were, none of us truly having the fact sunk in yet that we were IN MONACO for the Grand Prix. We were all to agree this was still the case for most of us by Sunday! As we drove around the excitement and laughter grew and grew. We had a long old trek ahead, however, we'd driven around the most famous of famous race tracks in the world and now it was time to bid a temporary farewell. We head for the hill out of Monaco which takes us to the motorway.

As we climb the hill I remember that I am dehydrated from not getting too pished the night before. A quick holler to the rest of the cool BLUE car team and sure enough we decide to stop for some H2O. As luck would have it, there were a couple of cracking parking spots just opposite these shops and in we go. We're like on the main road out of Monaco, so it's pretty busy and we all wait patiently at the pedestrian crossing for our turn to run the gauntlet of French drivers. If you've never been to France to experience their driving, just imagine in your part of the world that the traffic cops went on strike and you could do as you pleased - but with NO road rage. That's about it - oh, and make sure your horn is in working order (OOOOeeerr matron) as this must be used a minimum of 25 times per journey. Not to upset anyone or that, just to guide you through the chaos.

Anyhoos, I've now got my water and am blocked into the space by Bob's red car. We're waiting on the RED car (as per the norm) to finish shopping (how long can it be to ask for 2 bottles of water?) (An eternity as it turns out) when some Frenchie bloke in white overalls taps on my window. He starts explaining something in French and pointing to some sign by our car. Good, MY turn to be the rude one eh? Here's the exchange........

HA! I've told him good and proper. Fuckin Frenchie telling me where to park. "I mean, look at him the stoopid wally, he's like just stopped in the middle of the road blocking all the cars - oh, that's good now he's moved his nose right onto our back bumper with the arse of the van still blocking the traffic. Stoopid Frog knob". As I sit waiting the rest of the fags to finish their shopping expedition, a LOUD slam on the window is next - "Oh good, he HAS got the police". Window rolled down and here's now this copper telling me I cannot park here in French - the fact that I am now blocked in with Bob in front and Frog-van-man behind is irrelevant. The only saving grace was that this copper never spoke a word of English and I never spoke a word of French. He was gesturing for me to get out of the car and go to the pavement on the other side of the road. I deployed a winning tactic by pretending to be stoopid - you'd be amazed how good I am at this - no really, you would. Now everyone was back in their cars and I am gesturing to Bob to GO and telling the policeman that I am sorry and "I go now". He reluctantly resigns himself to letting us go as we're causing a mammoth tailback thanks to French van man and copper car (with blue flashing lights - HA!) parked in the middle of the busy arterial route.

Now we have a 3 car convoy out of Monaco and onto the motorway. Bob in front, me second and French copper behind me all the way out of Monte Carlo. Bob decides half way up a single track hill to let me past - this is like really cool eh? Now I'm passing cars with the cop car behind me - I am asking Toof to get me out of jail before Sunday as the LOOOOOOOONG 6 or 7 km's to the motorway journey continues. We finally hit the turn off for the motorway and the copper seemed content to let us go as we were "getting out of dodge". Elena proclaims, "Wow, thanks Kenny I've never experienced being chased out of town before". "That's funny, coz that happens to me a lot, you'll get used to it" was the reply. :-)

The rain now heavier and heavier, we make the journey somewhat cautiously. We've been playing around in Monaco for a while and now we feel quite hungry. Sure enough, we vote to stop for eats about an hour into the motorway leg. May I point out at this juncture that with Charlie in the front of the car we managed to get to where we were going with no problemos whatsoever - cops excluded obviously.

We find a service stop and all relieve ourselves of the afore-purchased H20. Much "aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh"ing from the urinals. We go back to the restaurant and all like the look of the food on offer. Italian (and French) service stations put the rest to shame. One can eat beautiful freshly prepared sandwiches, pastries and hot meals all washed down with freshly squeezed orange juice (they have this cool machine which they load whole oranges into - cool) and freshly ground coffee. "MMmmm, I like the looks of the Capri." The Capri is a local delicacy which is a roll, ham, melted cheese, salad and herbs. I think most of us went for this selection and it was fantastic. Costing buttons and tasting like a gourmet meal!

Back to the car now, and IDC steals the front seat back from Charlie. Given his confidence in direction giving, I think it not a bad idea. Sure enough, after a couple of calls of "convict bastard", Charlie resigns himself to the second row of the car with his good lady wife. The rain now abating, we wind the cars up as fast as they'll take us and off we trot. IDC is having some trouble with the map - nothing too serious, mainly that "local roads" is a bit of an issue for him. But that's all good as we don't need to be on "local roads" for ages yet.

The drive goes in pretty quick through the incredible undulations, elevation changes and tunnels galore. Now we're on the main road through Italy and counting down to Maranello. Bob and I are having some fun whilst most of the others sleep by blocking each other in, riding each others asses (OOoerrr matron!) (IDC can tell you more about that!) with headlights full beam and generally the sort of thing you'd expect from 2 grown men in cars. Flat out most of the way, we were pretty much on full throttle. Now we get to where we wanna be - the turn off for Modena North/Maranello. "Shit, I think this might be where I made the mistake last time Dave, what do you think? Should we go to Modena South??" Bob's in front by this time as we've slowed up to consult the map. Dave confidently proclaims, "Yeah, let's not take this one, there's a much easier way further down". Flashing my main beams furiously at Bob, sure enough he follows us past the wrong exit.

No one was overly agitated however as we were in the correct vicinity. In fact, quite the contrary. IDC Parker has to be the easiest going bloke I know, he took so much abuse from all directions about his directions that it was hysterical. This was to be something of a recurring theme (along with many others) throughout the trip. This particular theme brought out some classic one liners that F1ngers would be proud of. About an hour later we arrived in Maranello having seen some pretty cool countryside on the way - the 50 foot tall (17 metres Dave) (or 500 yards) bottle of beer was particularly groovy. Once in Maranello, instinct takes over and we head to the museum of Ferrari.

Now we enter the museum. I'll not post too many pics of this as I'm sure the others will want to. Suffice it to say, it is automotive pornography at it's finest. Road cars past and present, F1 cars past and present, engines, trophies, history, wind tunnels - it is a fabulous place even for non Ferrari fans. The brainwashing had commenced and those non-believers in the group were beginning to drool in a slack jawed fashion at the delights on offer. A real barrage on the eyes, everywhere you turn there is something more beautiful - and scarlet.

So we all look round (I'm sure you'll see more of this - lots more!) and discuss the beauty on show. It's like sensory overload (not for the last time on the trip!) and we're all more than a little impressed. We wander around the store in the museum and then down to the video arcade bit. What was to follow was one of the most memorable sights on the trip.

The place was in UPROAR! You know those times when you start laughing and can't stop? You can hardly breath and your sides start to ache? We were ALL in that position, and when I say ALL, I mean not only the 9 F1ngers, but the whole place. Bob was a great sport about it and increased the hysteric factor by 20 with this final shot. You know how you get these memories in life which are emblazoned on you? This is one of those. CLASSSSS! The creaking from the tub as Bob shoe-horned in has yet to be defined as the car or Bob.

Now we needed some red merchandise, and off to the store we go. LOTS AND LOTS of Euros later, we emerge with shopping bags galore. Maybe we'll need to hire another car for the shopping eh? Great shot of Elaine - classic. None of the other fags wanted to do this as a group shot, we were all drained of energy from the Bob drive!

Now we go to find the wind tunnel. I can vaguely remember it's in the middle of a housing estate somewhere and so we go through 3 or 4 streets with no luck. During one particular dead end on a dirt track, the 2 cars are within close enough proximity for a massive wheel spin covering the RED car in dust. HA! The blue car found this amusing - the locals did not. Luckily we don't know any Italian expletives so it washed right over us. We end up losing the RED car and a quick phone call later we decide to head for the hotel Domus. Or as Elena was to christen it, "hotel Dumbass".

In we go to be greeted with what one can only describe as a chilling bark. "PASSPORTS". This was from a charming young lady who looked not dissimilar to the mid '80's Eastern Block female shot-put team -------all of them sewn together. I'm not easily scared (unlike the rear passengers of the RED car - HA!) but without hesitation I promptly replied, "It's in the car, I'll go and get it for you." I sprint to the car and back again and politely lay the passport on the desk. "I NEED THEM ALL". "Oh, erm, can we maybe have a drink on the terrace before we check in? If it's too inconvenient, we will do whatever you say." "YES". Imagine Arnie in Terminator - "Come with me if you want to live". That's the kinda thing. I'm certain she had a sawn off under her blouse. Helga (unknown if this was her real name) serves us a round of Becks beer and we are sat in the square at Maranello, sun beating down and happy as sandmen. "You know, sometimes life is just good. A lot of the time we're all worrying about work, families, money and the rat race - and then other times there's THIS!" This profound explanation of life from yours truly.

3 beers later, a quick shower, shave (make up for IDC) and we're heading across the square to the pizza place in Maranello. The waitress there last time was really nice to Little Monaco and as she wandered past I called out, "Suzie?" With terror in her eyes she replies...."yyeeesss?" I try to remind her of when we were last there and produce pictures of Little Monaco. She politely remembers us and the wine begins to flow. Perhaps the best meal we had, and all for a mere 20 Euros each. A great night where we talked of life, love, kids, families and everything else in between.