This is an account of my weekend at the Italian Grand Prix in Monza. The following post does not contain race analysis or stats, but sleeping under the stars, ice cream, public transportation, avoided fence jumping and eventual rats.
The alarm clock went off with a loud, chiming pulse at 5am on Saturday, 3rd September. “What the hell is it now?” I asked myself in a dazed delirium, but then my very next thought was: “I’ve got a plane to catch, I’m going to the Italian Grand Prix”. As I was slowly getting out of bed, I took a moment to think about the next time I would see another bed - the very same bed, in fact - 64 hours later. Yeah, that was my so-called ‘plan’. Go there and see what happens.
In late 2014 I did a toss-up whether to spend money on going to the Monte Carlo Rally, the Monaco Grand Prix or the Italian Grand Prix. The Monte Carlo Rally won that contest, but little did I know then that I would be lucky enough to go to Monaco for the F1 race as well to party with some of the finest sports people, royalties and celebrities while sipping some exquisite champagne with gold sprinkles in it.