F1NGERS - Monaco 2003

Early (ish) we meet in the breakfast room of the hotel Dumbass. We're all reasonably hungover yet no one seems to mind. I finish my breakfast and head across Maranello Square looking for postcards. The rest of the team seem to be taking an age, so I go back to find them arguing with Helga about the price of the rooms. Clearly whoever started this argument was still pished from the prior evening's revelry. I go and get my file out and try to reason with Helga - she'd built up a full head of steam by this point, and I was fearful for my personal safety.

Then as though by magic I produced a one-liner and there is was in all it's glory. Like day-break on a cold, dark winter morn, so Helga smiled. It was one of those smiles where even her eyes lit up and the whole room basked in her beauty. Well, everything's relative eh? If you'd seen the scowl on her change you too would have been in awe. It escapes me now what line I used - but I had achieved my objective and made Helga smile. Elaine thought this to be a task beyond mortal men, however, somehow in the dark recesses of Helga's being came a showing of teeth so rare.

As we hadn't been able to find the wind tunnel the previous day, the plan was to find the church in Maranello where they ring the bells for a Scuderia win and then onto the wind tunnel. After that, it was Monza bound. Sure enough, the church is real easy to locate with it being a mere 200 metres (300 yards, 60 feet Dave) from the hotel. Out we get and wander around the grounds.

Good old Pat decides he wants to go walk along the side of this building to see what's over the other side. Fair enough! For some reason the Italians had decided to move the wind tunnel from where it was the last time I was there to a new location and we stumble across it. All the while we're walking along the side of the factory, there are Ferrari's driving up and down the side road freshly baked! Mega cool.

As we've found something of interest, the group splits in 2 with some staying at the wind tunnel and others heading back to the cars to park them closer. Toof and I straggle behind the rest and as we do, from a clearing in the fence we see a bright yellow Enzo just being driven inside the factory boundaries. "JESUS!" As Toof and I stare on in slacked-jawed-yokel-style, this thing of stunning beauty is directly opposite - then the driver sees us and starts flashing main beams. Man, how cool is that? Talk about right place and right time. A lot of folks moan about Ferrari not giving 2 hoots about their fans - from the Maranello we visited, nothing could be further from the truth. Just awesome. Now is time for the trip to Monza. A quick pit stop for some gas and some H20 and we're good to go. Charlie had procured Ferrari trainers the previous day and as his were a lot more comfortable than my older model ones, I decided to head back there for more stuff. Can you believe this - Bob now fully brain-washed into the Ferrari vibe actually buys something. Not only that - a FERRARI something! I was glad to be back at the shop as it brought back a nice memory. As you know, I did most of the organising of the trip and the rest of the team seen me eyeing up a Ferrari silk tie. Having spent shit loads of cash meeself, and being the Emelda Marcos of ties (now over 100) I could not justify spending 50 Euros on another one to myself. The team noted my interest in this particular piece of Prancing Horse merchandise and duly presented it as a gift to me at the store. One of the nicest ties I own - for all the right reasons and very kind of the group to appreciate the effort.

Anyhoos, IDC is prepared fully with not only the step by step directions, but also now with a freshly procured map of Italy which instils us all with great confidence. Sure enough, we're only about a mile out of Maranello when we are lost - again. Bob's gone one way, we go another - we agree in the cool blue car to tell the others we wanted to see some of the local vineyards. Which we did - by the 40th vineyard it became a little repetitive, however, it was erm......well.....stimulating - in a lost-hungry kinda way.

Back onto the Autostrada and it had been decreed back in Maranello by GnJ & Mrs GnJ that the cars were travelling at too high a velocity for their liking. (Fags) Given that we weren't in a colossal rush, GnJ imposed a limit of 130Kph which Bob & I almost stuck to - almost. We get to Milan and the traffic's like mental. IDC is telling me to go left.......no actually, straight on.......ah shit, we should have went right there. Now as amusing as this was, dodging Italian drivers left right and centre whilst trying to fins the route was - well let's just say it was interesting - to the MAX. However, for some reason still unknown, we did pick up a sign for Autodromo - this led to much clapping and cheering by the team - then we picked up a second sign for Autodromo - then we got a third and then - and then they disappeared. There are like 10 roundabouts in this part of Monza, none of them having a single roadsign to where we want to be. Of course, they have roadsigns for the important stuff like "Sports Centero" but directions to the racing circuit - Nah! We try each and every exit from these roundabouts then eventually ask some local bloke. Of course, the women in the cars (Elena, Elaine and IDC) all agree that had they been driving they would have asked sooner for directions. "Pffffffffft, where's the fun in that!" quips IDC! :-)

LOOOONG story short, we find Monza and are told there's a Ferrari 360 Challenge practice session on today. In we go and park up. We are at the back of the garages and as we walk towards them, my Scottishness is rubbing off on GnJ (Oooerr matron). We stand idly by for a second then he asks if we can come in. The Italian bloke says yes and here we are - in the pit garages at Monza. Then we wander over pit road and onto pit wall - with race prepared Ferrari's screaming by - literally!

Then I decided to go for a wander up pit lane. I politely asked in the first 2 garages if I could come in - then just wandered into the rest. It was incredible, here's these blokes working on their cars and literally as I'm wandering up they are screaming into the pits - incredible. This sort of access is for the rich and famous - so The Gang O' Nine are now officially rich and famous!

And we'd also discovered the legendary banking at Monza. Charlie, IDC & I were brave (brave = stoopid) enough to climb it. It was pretty tough getting up - getting down was even tougher. It's astounding to believe these racers of a bygone era drove around these things - the angle is so acute you have to see it to believe it. We politely ask Bob to take our piccie to be responded to thusly - "Fuck off". Stoopid olde world camera anyhoos. Now our mission is to drive the banking - and this was meant to be.

2 significant F1ngers legend stories happen this fine day involving 2 well respected (*cough*) members of the fraternity. IDC was particularly reluctant to drive the banking because "I've not driven a stick for 6 years". Reminded that he was pretty handy with my stick on Sunday evening, he eventually agrees. I vacate the vehicle at this juncture to snap away. The story is relayed to me thusly. They reach the top of the circuit and Charlie turns the car around. Incidentally, Charlie has got changing from first gear to forth gear down to a fine art form. I think by his 15th 1st-4th shift it became almost seamless. Anyhoodle, the car now facing the right way and IDC jumps behind the wheel. He engages gear, tries to deploy clutch, increases revs (by all accounts to around 8000) and promptly stalls. He restarts and does the same trick again ---------------and again-------------------and again. HA! HAHA! HAHAHA! Being that we are F1ngers, this story was clearly going to remain among ourselves - what with us being so honourable an all. It was decreed that the Gang O' Nine should never mention this lack of talent again. HOWEVER, there were spies in the camp - namely half-a-dozen 12 year old boys out for the day on their bicycles. They were in the proximity of Dave's master class in driving etiquette and found the entire journey incredibly hilarious. Much finger pointing, howls of laughter and "look at that knob" (in Italian). This of course never put IDC under any further pressure - or ridicule, and IDC was most polite in offering to "run their fuckin bikes over the little cunts". Classic? Oh yes.

Now, the homo's in the RED car had all had a go on the banking too - but they had precluded Pat from the activity. It was later discovered that Pat had asked - 14 times - but no one heard him. This will come as no surprise to anyone who's ever met Pat as he talks in a whisper. By the last day of the trip still no one was sure if Pat had a local accent or not. No matter, the cool BLUE car speaks with Pat and he is offered the opportunity to drive the banking with us. And sure enough, in behind the wheel he climbs. With the RED car a good 40 feet (62 metres Dave) behind us, he engages reverse to make his way to the banking. Now, I've driven pretty fast in my time, but I tend to prefer the element of speed whilst engaged in a forward gear. Pat on the other hand seems to enjoy hitting the rev limiter in reverse - whilst turning at 90 degrees. Oh how we laughed. Oh, did I say laugh, I meant SCREAM IN UTTER TERROR. The RED car inhabitants now white and the blue car inhabitants now green, we multi-colour gang head off to the banking once more. Pat does this driving (I again vacate the vehicle - no pictures needed this time - I figured it rude to clean my underwear with ladies present) thing and we're good to go. All merry and jovial we swap a couple of positions. Toof now in the RED car and Pat now with us - firmly in the BACK seat out of harms way.

Rather than take the obvious way out of Monza to head back to Nice, IDC has a better plan. And of course, given that his directions had been so fantastic thus far, we all agree to follow the Ozzie blokes directions. So, an hour later in the middle of Milan, we're all frantically looking for road signs to bail us out. Road signs? Pfffffffft - they're for tourists and what does Italy need with tourists. As I'm driving, I have been observing these multi-coloured flags hanging everywhere around Italy with "PACE" on them. I ask the others if they've noticed them (they've not) and we agree they must be Italy's "peace flag". The conversation turns towards the recent Gulf conflict, and as our car is distinctly USA/UK, we pontificate about how wonderful we all are. IDC pipes up, "Yeah, we sent a thousand Oz troops to the Gulf as well". "Yeah, but they still haven't fuckin found it yet" was the reply. This joke ran - and ran - and ran. And bizarrely, it got funnier by the day!

Eventually we are back to where we need to be, and a vote is carried out in the blue car. Who would like to remain on this imposed 130Kph limit and who would like to get back to Nice PDQ. The latter option taken, we agree that there will be some whining noise from Bob's engine - or maybe from the rear of the car. We do stop for some food (we try a local town but again, what do they need with tourists) and eventually stop at the roadside services. Now we all have like a freshly cooked 3 course meal and it's like excellent! Suitable refreshed, with night closing in we head back down the loooong and winding road to Hotel Cunt. The windscreen now populated with half of Italy's insect population, one final pit stop and IDC's calling in life comes good. Man, that is the cleanest windscreen I've ever seen on any car. :-)

Kudos to IDC & Charlie who remained awake with me through the dark and lonely trek back home. We softly spoke now of the days fun and games and as the adrenaline had worn off, so our shoulders sloped and the tiredness crept in. Back in Nice, exhausted and having had one of the most exciting adventures so far, we head to the pub on the corner which sells Guinness. A round all round and we're all reminiscing about one hell of a day and now we're looking forward to the events tomorrow. Karting is the order of the morning, then we hand the cars back, go to Monte Carlo for a reconnaissance mission and we'll eat in Monte. GnJ having had all of 2 pints now believes he is going to (and I quote) "kick your ass tomorrow at the karting track". Oh dear - oh dear oh dear oh dear. The gloves off now and we set a bet between us. Should HE kick my arse (pfffffffft) I have to war a Jack hat all day on Thursday at the Café de Paris. Should HE lose (no brainer) he is to wear a Michael Schumacher hat all day. To make it all the more painful, the LOSER had to buy the hat - HA! No matter how many times I told him he'd regret his taunting - so he kept on - and on - and on. I remained calm and professional (much like the current World Champion) whilst GnJ was screaming from the rooftops to anyone who'd listen about unless there was some major shift in the world how he'd be King of the day. (Like a the other ex World Champion on the grid)