Weather: er .. rubbish, rain rain and more rain
Track temperature: Excited
Formation lap
If somebody says to you that you are invited to a weekend that will combine 2 of your favourite passions, AND that you HAVE to buy new shoes, you would be in your element, wouldn’t you? And indeed I was, as 50ft Woman were invited to play the Marussia Virgin Racing Weekend at the British GP. That the shoes were Wellingtons
I hadn’t realised the sheer choice in buying a pair of wellies. I hadn’t, in fact, WANTED the choice, as anyone who knows me and my reputation will know, I don’t DO wellies (I don’t do flat shoes if I can at all help it) and so the prospect of buying and owning a pair was a big thing. 2 hours of browsing later and a glossy red pair, were winging their way, along with some funky zebra welly socks to accessorise and some necessary waterproofs. On Twitter @markblundellf1 pooh poohed my purchase, exclaiming that ‘it’s not Glastonbury Wellingtons
Lap 1
Friday did NOT look good weather wise. The plan was to drive down to arrive at teatime, so that we could join in with the team BBQ and catch the bands. I had very kindly been given our provided accommodation (A TENT- (I don’t DO camping either! But thanks @M5CUD)) the whole weekend, with the rest of the boys arriving on the Saturday; It’s a bit of supposed role reversal in our band, as it’s me who is the motorsport nut.
It did seem that we were a bit mad, deciding to go the night before, in the rain, when me and Mr 50ft hadn’t ever camped since we were kids. OK, technically this was ‘glamping’; pre-erected tent, airbeds and new sleeping bags provided, but it was still sleeping one thin sliver of fabric away from the world, the grass, the RAIN …
BUT, I decided, it would be better to regret being there, than regret no going, and so after a tussle with our hasty decision, we hurriedly packed (are we leaving home? Just how much stuff DO you need camping?) and set off, only to spend the next few hours in the Friday night traffic snaking its way west out of London
Lap 2
There’s nothing really that can prepare you for such sights as Stowe school. Set in grounds designed by Capability Brown, it is one of the quintessentially British sights; an avenue of trees, a long drive way, and a beautiful Grade 1 listed building. When I compare it to the 60s brick monstrosity I went to school in, I can now see why someone like Richard Branson would be inspired to keep on keeping on!
Even more exciting, however, is the sign which says Marussia Virgin Racing Weekend. I’m easily pleased, though we are much later than I had hoped, and for once, not because of the infamous Silverstone traffic (yes, we are THAT late).
As we park on the grass, with no clue as to what the campsite looks like, as it is hidden behind a row of mature trees, I can hear the strains of music. Now I am really excited, as this means I haven’t missed seeing the bands. It is still lightly raining but I will not allow this to dampen my spirits … until I hear the sounds of ‘Just Drive
And sure enough it is. The equivalent of a arriving at a concert to hear ‘thank you and goodnight’.
Bugger.
Lap 3
Glamping obviously also involves some nice Marussia Virgin ladies showing you to your tent J. This is after they have given you complimentary drinks, a torch, a nice laminate with vouchers for free food and invited you to partake of the Virgin Summer of Love Ice Cream Van giving away free ice creams! Am in heaven? Utopia? Some upside down universe where everyone is smiling but it is still raining?
The pre-erected tents are arranged in an almost army camp style, each one numbered (this will be fun when one has had a few!). Looking over the left there are the posh bell tent yurt things, which the nice MVR lady tells me are the staff and VIP tents. Then the car display that seemed to ebb and flow throughout the weekend as people who brought ‘cars that deserve to be looked at’ go to and from the track. The 2 Marussia cars are centre stage along with the Marussia Virgin car, tucked up in bed for the night and against the nasty rain. Past that I can see the pop-up hotels, which look like very posh portakabins, all lined up neatly in a row, all looking very inviting when compared to a tent!
Lap 4
Twitter is a marvellous thing. Not only had it brought about this very opportunity I was standing in right now, but had also ensured that I ‘knew’ people here before I had even arrived. It was thanks to Mr @PlanetF1 that the 50ft Woman name got bandied about as a suggestion for the MVR Weekend. His Twitter friend @tyres2u had then picked up on it, and put forward the suggestion to @M5CUD who was organising the MVR Weekend.
The fact that I am still referring to my new ‘tweeps’ by their Twitter names is no coincidence. Mr 50ft was most amused by the fact that as we made ourselves known and were subsequently introduced to more people I knew from Twitter, we referred to each other by our Twitter monkicers. Ooh hello @F1Cartoonz, no I haven’t met @grandprixdiary … Mr 50ft reckoned it all sounded rather like a Star Wars convention. Maybe so, but make friends before did she …
Lap 5
And then the rain stopped. I still thank God for wellies, though amazingly, the ground is pretty firm. This could well be to do with the fact the whole campsite is based on the cricket pitch. This in itself feels a bit naughty and rebellious, even when wearing aforementioned wellies rubber boots.
The Chakras come on to the stage, and great as they are, have a hard time with the over excited, over wet crowd, some of which quite possibly are Twitter people talking in hash tags. #soexcited #f1 #mvrweekend
The compere of the weekend is someone called ‘Webbo’ who looks and sounds familiar, and who I will probably find out later is ‘someone’. He announces that the drivers and team have now arrived, and are to be introduced by none other than @CroftyF1, the presenter/commentator of BBC 5Live f1 tean. And we have the whole set of drivers! Timo Glock and Jerome D’Ambrosio (introduced, of course, as ‘Custard’) and also reserve drivers Sakon Yamamoto and new signing Robert Wickens, from Canada, who had been making waves in this season’s Formula Renault 3.5.
After asking Sakon what reserve drivers DO on a racing weekend (answer – sleeping), the questions are thrown open to the crowd and unsurprisingly mainly consist of requests to crash into Sebastian Vettel and break his pointy winning finger. After these not very sporting or appropriate requests, talk moves to the new MVR partnership with McLaren and more relevant goals for the weekend. The drivers then bravely move off the stage for photographs/autographs and the crowd are iron filings to the F1 magnets. I stay by the bar and watch from a safe distance.
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| Robert Wickens and Timo Glock |
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| Jerome D'Ambrosio ('Custard'), (DJ) Sakon Yamamoto and Crofty |
Lap 6
I am having to sleep in a tent. We abandoned the provided airbeds and go for our super duper double airbed. only to realise it has an electric pump and as we are in a tent, there are no plugs. Much hilarity ensues as we plug it in, in the cute vanity tent, complete with starlet bulb mirrors (and pet moths and goths), then struggle to get it out, across the field, sorry pitch, and into our tent and bedroom compartment.
I am still having to sleep in a tent.
Lap 7
Sleeping in a tent is noisy, and cold. Despite the cosy sleeping bags provided I am woefully underequipped, probably mostly mentally, and due to the design of the sleeping bag, I can’t reach down to my toes and pull my socks up. I am starting to feel slightly claustrophic, but thankfully due to a slight imbibence of alcohol and the sheer tiredness from a prolonged heightened excitement I fall asleep, despite the DJ set going on across the field, sorry pitch, and the enthusiastic chatter of fellow campers around me.
Lap 8
You wake up early in a tent. At first I think that it has been raining and there is a leak within the tent, but then realise it is actually condensation. A small army of tiny spiders seems to have taken up overnight residency. I can’t scratch my foot. And though I need to go to the loo, I will have to put on a coat and rubber boots and venture across a field. Pitch, sorry. I also put on shades. It’s not sunny, and it’s not something I normally do, but as I have been nowhere near a mirror I am not risking looking like a scarecrow with tiny spiders in my hair. At least this way no-one will recognise me. And then from the hellos I receive, I curse the decision to buy bright red Wellingtons
Lap 9
Sadly, though I have tickets for Qualifying, the camp site is just that bit too far away to risk not being back for our soundcheck at 2, despite the regular transfers to and from the track. And so I settle down at the site with a hearty veggie cheese and mushroom roll from Jamie Oliver’s Fabulous Feasts and a surprisingly good cup of tea. I had heard grumblings about the coffee and that the ‘man by the transfer meeting point’ was far superior, but as a tea drinker, I’m fine. I have a big screen showing re-runs of F1 free practice in the run up to quaili, and though there are spits of rain on and off, there is a huge tent for everyone to snuggle under with loungers and chairs, and a few parasol umbrellas. And of course, I have wellies.
Lap 10
The other 50ft-ers arrive. For musicians they are always surprisingly on time, and usually early. They decide to all bunk down together in the other tent and raid ours of redundant airbeds.
Steve, who is the band liaison guy for the event issues us with wristbands and shows us where the dressing room is, complete with ubiquitous mystery musician-from-another-band on the only sofa.
The sound and monitor guy are most curious when they spot my custom mic-stand, complete with brass knuckleduster height adjuster and POW on the base, and already I think we have made an impression! We don’t give our away our surprise intro at soundcheck, and thankfully most people are still at the track. I gratefully have enough time to catch up on qualifying on the big screen, snuggle in one of the loungers that proves to our base for the rest of the day and night!
There is a free energy drink being handed out, with the name Pussy. The poor promo girl who is rolling the supplies around in a wheelbarrow to give to everyone is understandably by now, fed up at the jokes, and so the 50ft boys adding their tennpennerth does not go down too well., However, with a name like Pussy and with a band like ours, it’s a joke that runs and runs, famed as we are for our Carry On 2011 humour. (I’m taking my Pussy on stage …, Have you seen my Pussy? I only turned around for a moment and it’s gone, There’s free Pussy backstage, I might go and get some, I stashed some Pussy in my tent for after the gig, This Pussy tastes gooooood etc etc etc)
Lap 11
I had prayed that rain wouldn’t arrive before our set. Checking both BBC weather and weather.com, who both said different things, I had decided to believe whichever had the better weather, only for them both to be wrong. Just plain rain.
I pity the poor Scarletz who have to go on before us, but thankfully it seems to brighten up a little. Time for me to transform from wellies and big North Face coat to Ms Minki Fiftyfoot. I do feel a little incongruous teetering across the grass with high heels, full make up and bunches. I decided on an outfit based on the MVR colours, which is no hardship being that they are red, black and white, which most of my wardrobe consists of. Axel and the boys had just been playing Gorodki (no I don’t know either) and Axel had won himself an MVR cap, which I decided to don for my grand entrance.
Lap 12
Intro … dum, dum da dum da da dum dum dum DUM … yes, as rehearsed, the boys start the set not with our usual intro, but with The Chain. We wanted to fully embrace the occasion, and so as I step onto the stage, I say in the immortal words of Mr Murray Walker, 50ft Woman are go go go!
It’s actually a hard gig when most people are seated a good 20 feet away, some under a giant tent, most there more for F1 rather than to see a band. But everyone seems to be enjoying it nonetheless (I am even heckled, in a nice way, by @diabloskinz), and we also slip in a cover of Turning Japanese into the set to try and catch people’s attention. I also decide to take pictures on stage during the guitar solo (not the best photos it has to be said) and nearly forget to sing!
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| Turning Japanese I think ... |
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| I'm Turning ... |
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| Japanese ... |
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| I really think so ... |
And all too soon we are at the end of the set; the faux orgasmic strains of (Strictly) Only Swinging, ringing in our ears; a sunset sparkling through the trees and time for a different type of r‘n’r.
Lap 13
Safely ensconsed in my now infamous Monza
In this time I discover that a. it IS possible to dance in wellies, b. Axel, 50ft drummer is the new Cat in the Hat and can breakdance like a wild ‘ting’, c. Pussy mixed with red wine is actually very nice, d. the whole band will up and dance if you play Thriller or Smells Like Teen Spirit, e. there are certain members of the MVR team who can party with the best of them, despite having to be at work at 8am the next day (shhh I won’t tell!).
We head for the tents one song before the end of the DJ set, obviously showing that once 50ft Woman leaves the party, there IS no party. (Or apparently not, as I was informed later that the ‘after-party’ didn’t end until about 3am, with Crofty holding court until the wee hours.)
Lap 14
I wake up, once again, in a tent. I swear our ‘pet’ spiders are bigger than yesterday. Maybe this is what they mean by the greenhouse effect. Either way I don’t like it. Every time we walk into the tent in the ‘lounge’ area, they abseil from the ceiling and land in your face as you walk in. I don’t mind spiders, but these ones are just evil. I think they are the Territorial Army of spiders and are ordered to land on unsuspecting visitors to the tent. I also don’t like killing things, but have to resort to waving a Boots bag around to try and dislodge them.
Lap 15
With the boys gone, breakfast eaten and excitement mounting, along with apprehension at the clouds, we set off to the track. The transfers to the track are regular and busy, but thankfully don’t take long. Apparently the last one back is 6pm and it’s over a 40 minute walk cross country if you miss it. After the amount of dancing I did last night and the fact the bloody sleeping bag meant I could hardly move my legs, how much they are aching means I don’t fancy the hike, and probably couldn’t manage it anyway.
There’s a real atmosphere at the track. Much more than I remember at previous British GP. Webber is on pole, Jenson is 5th and Lewis is down in 10th, which could all make for an exciting race. A lot depends on the weather. It’s Silverstone, so could well be raining in one part of the track and sunny in the other.
Lap 16
Thank god I brought my waterproofs. Having been tricked by the early morning sunshine, a lot of people are flip-flopped and shorted, completely devoid of Plan B clothes. So the sudden downpour before the race sees me slightly smug, watching the Red Arrows plume across the sky, dry under my waterproofs. (I LOVE the Red Arrows!) The only setback is realising my trainers are NOT waterproof AND I only brought the waterproof jacket, not the trousers. Seeing as we have a ticket for Vale, which is an uncovered grandstand, this could be an issue, but thankfully the rain holds off through the race, but leaves enough wet on the track for everyone to start with Inters. I find out later that part of the track is REALLY wet, causing a few aquatic acrobatics in the formation lap, yet down on the pit straight it’s a dry as a bone. Silverstone, the tarmac epitomy of an English summer.
Lap 17
Vale provides a good all over view, from Stowe corner all the way round Club and onto the new International Pit Straight. We can even see the HRT’s on the back of the grid. It’s tricky following what’s going on, as the ‘big’ screen looks tiny from where we are and even with my usually bionic eyesight, I can’t read the stats. My phone battery died in the early hours, and so I have to rely on squinting and memory skills to work out who is what, where and how. Sadly, I can see easily Jenson’s fate after the disastrous pitstop. Luckily we see one of the best moves of the race as Hamilton Massa
Lap 18
All too soon it’s over for another year. We decide to mosy on down and check out the after party near the new Village complex.
We are rewarded with Tony Jardine interviewing Jenson, and the BBC F1 pundit Eddie Jordan and his band of Robbers, making up for missing the usual TV F1 Forum frolics.
Lap 19
As it starts fast approaching 5.30, we head back to the transfer meeting point, terrified of having to walk back to Stowe school. We are warned that the journey will take time in all the traffic, but are pleasantly surprised when it only take 40 minutes – to go 3 miles J. At the drop off, we are given a lift by one of the VIP MVR liveried Discovery’s, one of the most welcome treats of the day! The guys and girls in the team are so friendly, happy to chat and make a fuss, no matter who you are.
Lap 20
We are packed and ready to head off, but decide to eat before sitting in the traffic. And then … I notice a familiar face. It’s Manish Pandy, Writer and Executive Producer of the Senna film. We were lucky enough to attend a Q&A screening of it, so we know we know his face. I had known that MVR were going to screen the film but we had thought we would miss it. But of course, caught up in all the F1-ness of the day, and our passion for Senna, we sit mesmerised once again. Despite the spitting rain, there is something magical about the fact we sit, watching, outside, on a big screen, not 3 miles from Silverstone, after the British GP, at a camp site hosted by an F1 team. I’m actually glad it’s raining as I can pass off my sniffles as a consequence of that, rather than the fact I am soft thing, blubbing my eyes out. Even though you KNOW the story, and KNOW what’s coming, it still gets you every time.
And then, as the credits roll … and I dry my eyes … a voice announces that Terry Fullerton, the very driver Senna has just announced on film that he has the most satisfaction of racing against, and that ‘He was, for me, a very complete driver. I have that as a very good memory’, is in the audience. You can feel the ripple go through the crowd. I have goosebumps .. and it’s nothing to do with the cold. I am also crying again, like a fool.
Lap 21
As we leave, or rather I run away due to embarrassment, after saying my croaky goodbyes, we turn back at Stowe School
Stowe and Silverstone have cast a spell on me. I think MVRW doesn’t stand for Marussia Virgin Racing Weekend, I think, for me, last weekend, it stands for Magical, but Very Real …Weekend.
Thanks again to @SterlingChild (50ft bass man), @50ftTechnician (50ft guitarist), and the rest of the none Twittified 50ft-ers, @PlanetF1, @tyres2u, @M5CUD, @MarussiaVirgin and probably most of all, Twitter.
#letsdoitagainnextyearplease #savingupforamotorhome
(more pics and videos to come later)
