Conveniently we had bought the bus at the end of last summer, and after a couple of trial runs (including driving it home from Plymouth to North London) it was ready for a weekend away with the cars.
The bus:
For any motorhome geeks out there, it is a 1980 Bedford CF MK1 Glendale Motorhome. 2.3 litre petrol engine that drinks more fuel than a Hummer, top speed about 60mph.
I had to work on the Friday, but Amy and Keith had gone down earlier - Keith had driven down in the SC, and Amy following him in the bus. I got a text message late morning to let me know that the Jupiter was parked between the Cartier Concours de Luxe and the Supercar paddock. Seemed appropriate
Amy chucked the bus into our base for the weekend, the Anglesey Arms. http://www.angleseyarms.co.uk/ Now at this point it is important to point out that the pub is about a mile from the entrance to the event, about the same distance from the racetrack entrance for Revival, and will certainly be seeing us again soon. Their food is very very good, prices reasonable, and they have a range of beers and decent atmosphere. Other than the dedicated camping on site (£150 for the FOS weekend for a pitch without hookup or anything) vs the pub at £10 per night. I know where I'd rather be. And despite being a busy and lively pub, their field was quiet at night, everyone getting a good night's rest before a big weekend in the sunshine.
Day one for me, and it started with waking up with a very stiff neck. No idea why, I had managed to somehow sleep at a funny angle, possibly as a result of Amy deciding she was scared of falling a few feet out of the bunk in the motorhome and causing the bus to rock and roll all over the place trying to climb a simple ladder.
We walked the short distance to the entrance to the site, and the first thing we saw when we got in were supercars turning at the bottom of the hill to get ready for the hillstart. Because most of these cars don't have a tight enough turning circle to do a U-turn in the space provided, they rev their engines and kick the back end out to get around. Unless they are chicken, in which case they drive up, stick their nose against the bank, and the stewards have to push them backwards to get round
We headed up to check the car and to put the top down, showing off the new interior and attracting a lot of interest from the public. The car was parked next to a Veuve Cliquot stand, and it looked right at home, attracting looks from a number of people sharing buckets of champagne.
We had a nice wander around, Amy spotted a couple of people, Mark Webber and Bruno Senna - apparently they drive cars around various tracks around the world for a few months every year and get paid rather a lot of money to do so, lucky devils.
After Amy had done enough perving over chiselled jawed multi-millionaires, we went for a look around the cars. Right next to us was the Supercar paddock, not a bad little place to start, where Amy decided that she'd quite like a Citroen, despite our truly awful experience with a Picasso a few years ago:
From there we wandered through the concours, featuring some of the most iconic cars of the last century, cars worth hundreds of thousands, if not millions in some cases, mixed in with affordable classics that changed cars forever.
In the concours was Pat Lockyer's Farina Jupiter (above). A lovely car, and representing the club, the cars, and holding its own alongside the best cars in the world.
We wandered through the event to the forest rally stage, watching everything from modern Skoda Fabias right back to classic Minis and Saabs, a Ford Escort, Audi Quattro, and other classic rally cars. I still don't quite understand how anyone decided that an Austin Metro was a sensible rally car, but then it was going down the stage at a reasonable pace, so maybe it wasn't such a silly idea.
After a wander through the stage, watching cars going through the different corners, it was time to head back through the show - past the start of the hillclimb where all kinds of cars were heading up the hill. Including a Nissan Juke doing it on two wheels. The entire way up the hill. Truly bonkers.
At the bottom of the hill we saw a few Jags and other cars getting ready to go. Lots of noise, lots of cars, and the smell of burning rubber.
Anyway, after we'd been walking for hours and hours and hours, we decided to head back to the pub for a pint and some dinner. Lots and lots of food later, and a couple of drinks, and we headed back to the bus for the night.
This routine carried on through the weekend, and we saw lots of cars, answered a lot of questions about the Jupiter, talked to a lot of people about their cars, got a bit sunburned, and generally had a fun weekend of cars and food and drink.
On Sunday evening we got ourselves home at a very sensible time, driving back with the bus following the Jupiter northward to home. We were tired, but it was a good weekend.
I suspect we'll be back there next year - the convenience of the pub made it an easy trip for us, and no doubt we'll have a few more friends along for the ride as well.
Jack.