F1NGERS - Monaco 2003

It's 0630 and the alarms have gone off. I knock up the Freaks next door and also the Rotors. They've laid in their beds too long, and Mrs Rotor (the brainy one in that family) takes the subtle hint that they are lazy amateurs. She talks to hubby and they will join us - apparently. We are outside the hotel (the cool blue team) with no sign of them. "Fuck em, let's rock". We wait for a bus to take us to the railway station, but it's taking forever so we walk the 20 minute walk. It's a good day for a race - coz we're there.

Onto the train and onto the balcony. We're experts now and again are first to arrive. "Your keen" says Greg. "Well yeah, we want to take in as much of this experience as we can - bugger lying in bed." Of course, the red car team (Bob, Toof & Pat) are in bed, however, like a bolt out of the blue within 10 minutes the Rotors arrive! WOW! First time for everything eh? So we wait, and we watch some stuff. Then the drivers parade has been moved forward from it's 10:50 slot to 10:00am. HA! HAHA! HAHAHA! The lazy arsed fags miss it. :-) WE NEVER!

As had become tradition on the trip, Mr & Mrs FrriFrk and I head off to procure some more merchandise. Some air horns were top of the list to cheer the team up - HA! And of course, some F1 related clothing. We find this classy Monaco shop selling top notch stuff with the Monaco GP logos on and are served by a charming young lady who is both good at her job (well, she relieved me of several hundred Euro - with no discount) (I felt by the 12th time I asked I was maybe beginning to annoy her) and fantastic at making us feel good about how "little" we were spending. HA! Coooool. We've had our customary fill of croissants, coffee, orange juice and pain au chocolat and feel ready to take on the world. We head under the track towards the harbour again in search of a bag Charlie wants to buy. (What is it with the Soltau's and bags? '-)) With no luck on that front, but glad we did it to get a different perspective on the Monaco Grand Prix.

We walked alongside the open grandstands with lines of portaloos and we agreed that the only way to do Monaco was with our balcony. Of course, this is being smug to the max, however, when we saw how hot it was, how exposed the grandstands were and how big the queues for the toilets were, we really did have a monumental smugness consume us. Charlie clearly having spent WAAAY too much time in my company is eyeing up some Marlboro ashtrays to "indefinitely borrow" which are on the restaurant tables - and he doesn't smoke! HA! (In fairness, they were cool ashtrays)

NO red flag leads to much swearing and agitation from the crew. The safety car brings them round after this pile up, and there's no where for them to go - literally. The marshal on the track is waving his arms at the safety car - all in all, a stupid decision and then they somehow managed to thread their way through dragging sand all over the circuit. REAL dumb. We all agreed they never red flagged it due to time constraints, however, there was a 2 hour gap between the end of this race and the start of the next one - THE 61st GRAND PRIX de MONACO!

I know you've all seen the race, and I know you've all seen where we viewed it. I dunno what else to say other than the acceleration up Beau Rivage was awesome, the noise was simply stunning (much better than at Silverstone for example) and the atmosphere was ELECTRIC. Hairs on neck, arms and nether regions fully staticified and we're awaiting the parade lap. We all know the fuel strategies thanks to the previous McLaren party, however, there is much consternation about BMW Williams. "They're too fast" being the consensus among our collective wisdom. Now - NOW the time is here - the beers are fully charged and the bladders are running on empty - for the time being!

It was fascinating, from our vantage point we could hear them scream off the start line then the sudden downshifts and then they were in full view, around Ste Devote and then WHAM as they scream up the hill. The sensation of speed here is truly awesome because of the buildings alongside - same goes for the reverberating SQUEAL of those engines.

Dya wanna know something interesting though - the race was excellent, don't get me wrong but everything's relative. We all watched and we all commented, swore, threw our arms in the air, threw hats on floors and generally EXPERIENCED the whole thing. But as I say, everything's relative. You would imagine that now we were watching not only the Jewel in the F1 crown - but the reason we were all there in the first place that we'd all be hyperactive. Whilst we were excited, and thrilled and generally in awe but relative to how the rest of the week had gone, it was just like information OVERLOAD! - intense with much concentration required. We had cars screaming up Beau Rivage, we had cars sliding around Ste Devote - at the SAME time we had cars breaking for the chicane, speeding towards Tabac and then going around Tabac - AT THE SAME TIME we had cars exiting the pits and of course, we had the huge screen in front of us showing us everything else. MAN OH MAN - talk about sensory overload. There is no such thing as "too much F1" but this came damn close! It was jaw-dropping and I loved darting my eyes left, centre, right - then a refocus on the diamond screen, then a quick look at the TV behind - then a pit stop - I mean FRANTIC action from all angles and ALL the senses working overtime. It is truly indescribable, I hope maybe some of the others will try to describe THAT race, but everything as far as I can tell, it was just plain surreal.

The race over in a heartbeat - honestly, and we were now dissecting the whole thing with more beers and more buzz. Whilst our chosen drivers may not have finished where we would have preferred, it was all just so incredible that even Rabid DC bloke me could not fail in my genuine stunned, awe-struck reaction. The adrenaline wore off REAL quick - because there had been so many endorphins coursing through us all, it slowly started to sink in what had just happened. We'd BEEN in Monte Carlo - for the GRAND PRIX. I really did feel tired and my head began to nod - this is like 10 minutes after the chequered flag! Part of this was the realisation that it was the beginning of the end now - and I really never enjoyed that thought - not at all.

Oz Ian was to do some exploration now and he bid us a fond farewell. We made for the train station to be met with a monumental crowd of people waiting to get on. An hour later we are on the packed train and I'm almost asleep standing up! The train must have about 300 people on it (in our carriage alone) and there's hardly anyone talking. Just heat, sloped shoulders and this odd glaze across nearly every passenger. I see I am not alone in my lack of energy!

Somehow or another we all made it back to our Palace in Nice, and as this was The Freaks wedding anniversary, it was their choice for dinner. We head to Old Nice which is a smashing courtyard with narrow wee side streets. Café's, restaurants and local wee shops and a square with entertainers keeping you happy while you eat. H20 is a wonderful thing, not only does drinking it make you feel better, but showering under it (single-handedly of course) is also a great battery charger. We get to the happy couple's restaurant of choice and order some pre-dinner drinkipoos.

We consume (devour) our meals and the conversation flows as it has all week. This group of internet geeks who've never met have somehow made the trip their own. Individually we all had a blast, and collectively we had a riot. I'm not sure how it happened - it just happened. A couple of minor bumps along the way, but for 99% of the time spirits were high, friendships were forged and chaos ensued.

Back at the hotel now and we all sit in the cocktail lounge with it's ambience, piano softly playing in the background and stunning waitresses. However, it appears we were a bit noisy and were duly ejected - never mind, let's party in the happy couple's room eh? And so we did - well that's only partly accurate. I crashed - and burned big style. Exhausted from the rollercoaster that had been Monac03. At least I made it to the bed - not my own bed you understand, but a bed nonetheless.