Add boat, bicycle, bus, feet, go
carts and Supercar’s to that list and that will pretty much tell you how we got
around London on our recent trip. The trip started here in PE with a midday
flight to Oliver Tambo airport. Here we met my mom and Niece Christine as well
as Doug’s dad who popped in quickly to drop off a couple of things for Doug,
but ended up having coffee and keeping us amused as only Gavin can.
The trip was “LONG” and it was
with a grateful but numb ass that we landed at Heathrow, collected our luggage,
packed it onto a minute luggage trolley with two front wheels that had a mind
of their own and looked like I had really overstayed my welcome at the
complimentary on board bar. We then breezed through the passport control (having a Pommie passport does have its benefits)
and the “nothing to declare” line of customs, where we saw no one (apparently
they check u out from behind one way glass and pounce on those they feel are
lying about not having anything to declare)
We walked thru a nondescript double door and where thrust into a throng of a
waiting crowd who had assembled to meet and greet loved ones, after a quick round
of hugs and how was the flight it was time to battle the trolley to the cars
for the 30 mile trip to Barnet (where Doug and Nicole and Amber reside).
We used the train/tube on a
number of occasions and I have to say there is something weird about voluntary
placing oneself in the bowels of London to catch a train. The trains are clean (or
the ones we used where), they are on time and you don’t have to wait long to
catch one. The underground map is fairly easy to follow and after a couple of
trips you think of yourself as a bit of an expert
.
In fact you can ask someone who
has not used the tube before to take the bank station tube to find their way to
mansion house. They would take the central line to Liverpool street, change to
a circle line heading east, travel 5 more stops and when they walk up to street
level they will find that the have arrived at a location a mere 200 feet from
where they had started the journey.
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It’s not very often that you get
to visit Silverstone, especially when you live 9795 kms or 6121 miles away on
another continent, Silverstone for those that may have been in a coma since
1874 is the home of British Motorsport and hosts the British GP, that took
place on the 30th June this year. The F1 track is 3.660 miles (5.86kms) long
and iconic names such as Hangar straight, Stowes corner or Abbey may jog your memory as to having heard
of Silverstone.
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I drove on the International
circuit (that forms part of the F1 circuit) and is 1.851 miles (2.96kms ) in length. You have a 30 minute
briefing, where they scare the living shit out of you and have you fill in a
form with next of kin, coffin size etc etc. they got a tad miffed when I answered
the question – emergency contact - police or ambulance, it seems most people
put their spouse or a parents contact details. After the briefing we then got
issued a throw away helmet liner and a really dorky open faced helmet, ( The
helmet and fire retardant suit at the go carting was sexier).
All in all the means of transport
to get us to and back from the UK as well as those we used while there (apart
for numb ass and sore legs on the plans) was fun and having the bragging rights
to say I have not only been to Silverstone but driven 2 iconic cars on the track that so many racing greats (cars
and bikes) have used is a memory that will last for a long long long long long
(you get the picture) time.
Have a great week
Ciao.
S.P.A.D
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