Sun, 06 Apr 2003

author Tim	location Cricklewood, Greater London, England
posted 08:22 BST 08/04/03	section Europe2002/Europe/UK/England/London/Working in London 1 ( all photos )

Back to London ( No photos )
(Continued from Essex and East Anglia)
Straight back to London (well, with a few nice detours off some side-roads through forests and the like - motorways are quite boring ways to travel), we dropped in to our old house to check for mail (none), and then came back to our little room in Cricklewood.
Liz had missed a call from Meaghan, so she rang her back and they chatted as we went up the road for some take-away Chinese for dinner. We eventually crashed in bed, somehow exhausted after all the excitement.

author Tim	location Cricklewood, Greater London, England
posted 08:22 BST 08/04/03	section Europe2002/Europe/UK/England/Essex and East Anglia ( all photos )

A Day at the Races ( 42 photos )
The breakfast was good, as we discovered upon waking on Sunday. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, but eating in the conservatory at the back of the house was still very pleasant, munching on home-made bread covered in peach jam. The franting ringing of the massive church tower just across the road somehow seemed to make it a great Sunday.
Again we loaded Percy, and were waved of by the land-lady with words of "make sure you tell your friends about us" and a genuine smile. So, we travelled onwards, destination this time Norwich.

Since I keep getting it confused, let me explan that Norwich is the main city in the county of Norfolk. The city itself seemed that it could be explored in one of two ways - either (as we did) rather quickly, taking in the two main tourist sites - the Castle and the imposing Anglican Cathedral, or very slowly over two days or so. This latter approach would leave you time to see through the many interesting several hundered year old buildings which are dotted around.
But were were in a hurry, so we noted that the castle was closed until 1pm, and used it instead as a vantage point over the city, allowing us to spot and then walk to the cathedral. Arriving there, we noted that a service was underway (it being a Sunday and all), so had a look around the grounds before returning to the car, locked deep in an under-ground parking vault.

Next stop was the aim of the weekend's travels - Snetterton circuit, twenty miles south-west of Norwich.
Neither Liz or I were prepared for just how much fun we were going to have here - I'm a self-confessed "it's just a bunch of cars driving around in a circle" kind of person, but this was something different entirely.
As we arrived, some mini-formula 1 cars (presumably formula 3 or 4 or something) were screaming around the track, and we were able to wander across the pit lane to see them driving down the back straight at 100mph about two metres away from us. The signs "hearing protection must be worn" seemed like good advice, but nobody was following them.
After these cars came a Ferrari race - plenty of horsepower, not much grace, as was evident by the which caught on fire driving down the back straight (that's going to be expensive), and the one which failed to make it out of a turn properly, plummeting straight through a tire barrier and causing the race to be cancelled.
Friend Greg from work was busy tinkering with his car while these other races were going on, but eventually it was his turn (note the Aussie flag proudly displayed next to his surname Clough!). His car had three drivers who did fourty-minute stints throughout the four hour race.
The length of time went amazingly quickly, as Liz and wandered around the inside of the track, trying to find the vantage which offered a good view combined with protection from the biting wind. Plenty could offer the former, but none the latter.
At one stage, Greg offered me the keys to his newly-purchased motor scooter, which I happily accepted. Never having ridden anything more powerful than an eighteen-speed mountain bike, this was an interesting challenge to me. I was just coming back from a few loops around the carpark to pick up Liz when it stalled. Out of fuel apparently. Either that or someone up in the sky was warning me that motorised two-wheeled transport is not for me. So, we handed the keys back, but Liz has already decided that she wants one.
Despite starting in third-last place (the positions were drawn out of a hat), by the end of Greg's fourty minutes he was in first position, even after taking a knock from another driver and finding himself spinning in the rough. The other driver was out for half an hour or so as they bolted bits of his car back on.
At the end of the race, Greg's team was almost a whole lap clear of second place, Greg had set the lap record, and the team quite rightfully held their trophies proudly (Greg on right).
Liz and I are now both keen to get to Bathurst when we next make it home, in keeping with the tradition we have never quite managed to take part in.
Liz decided that the cold was too much, so we piled back in the car as I drove us home. I was secretly glad that she wasn't driving, after being just a little too excited about the fast cars all day!

We headed back to London.

(customised)