I am too old for camping
Last weekend we went to Silverstone for the first time. In order to gain the full Grand Prix experience, we chose to camp on the Saturday night. It meant we made a weekend of it, watched the qualifying, walked round the circuit on a gorgeous balmy Saturday evening when most of the crowds had disappeared. Sat and drank some fizzy by our tent with our great friends. Idyllic.
Well, it would have been had it not been for the fact that our tents seemed to be pitched next to the M25. Cars coming and going all night, campers coming back late and drunk, car alarms going off, first cars of the morning arriving around 5.45am. Oh and a few helicopters thrown in, too. The adults estimate we had 23 and a half minutes sleep. The kids (four between us) had to be woken up at 9am, having slept through everything.
I’m not too old to experience a fan girl crush
I’ve had a crush on Jenson Button for years – those who read my blog will know a cardboard cutout of the man sits next to my desk.
So of course I was super excited to watch him race. Ouch. He didn’t even last a lap, shunted off the track by his fellow driver. Swallowing my disappointment I put my energy into cheering on Lewis Hamilton – not that he seemed to need my support, what with the whole of Silverstone urging him on. I was delighted to see him win, especially as the rest of my family are huge Hamilton fans.
But I have to admit the highlight of my day was catching sight of Jenson afterwards as he came out to sign autographs. In the flesh, he certainly didn’t disappoint. Definitely romantic hero material (and the inspiration for a book I hope will be published next year!).