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Published: April 16th 2011
C2 Hillstand
What a place to be!From one world sporting event to another, although they could not be more different. Being from the UK, the Grand Prix was never economically practical to attend, at Silverstone. Arriving in Malaysia on race weekend and cheap tickets gave me the opportunity I had been waiting for.
Having navigated my way to my family's original home town of Seremban, my Auntie (Mak Teh) and Uncle Ali were waiting for me. It is such a pleasure to be greeted by beaming smiles, even though it was two o'clock in the morning. Their house has got to be my second home. This is the house that my Dad even stayed in, when he visited Malaysia for the first time, nearly thirty years ago. I already felt comfortable.
Early the next day I was to be picked up by my cousin, Shuk, who was attending the Grand Prix with me, along with his university friends. I was only there for an hour of Friday Practice to get a feel of things. As we were driving around the Sepang Circuit complex, we could already hear the Formula One cars. It sounded like several giant tabby cats in distress. When we arrived at the
stand, the noise levels quickly increased. I now realise how loud these machines actually are. The television certainly does not portray the intensity of the sound. When a car went past, I could not even hear the person speaking next to myself. These cars were seventy metres away too. Any closer and it would be literally deafening. Furthermore, when the cars down shifted it sounded like the clutch had gone or the engines were about to explode. In a way, the engine seemed to be choking when decelerating.
What also surprised me was the view. When I bought the ticket, I assumed that I would be only able to see a few corners. How wrong I was. I could see half of the circuit. The grass covered hillstand was enormous. It gave people the opportunity to roam and discover different angles to watch the race. I had definitely purchased the right ticket.
After an enjoyable night of bowling (where I won both games) and Sheesha, we arrived at Saturday qualifying slighlty groggy. The size of the crowd was noticeably larger. In the hill-stand alone there had to be a few thousand people, from various nations. This is when
it hit home at what we were attending: the prime motorsport in the whole world.
During the day I spent much time trying to take photographs of the cars. This was no mean feat. The cars were flashing by so fast I often was just taking pictures of blank track or blurs. I gradually honed my technique and eventually was able tell who the driver was. Patience was the key. I probably had fifteen attempts per decent photo. It really made me appreciate how good these professional photographers actually are.
On race day, I was unbelievably excited. The crowd was in its tens of thousands and everyone seemed to be on edge. When I thought about it, it must have been the highest density of white people in the whole of Asia. I was hoping to see lots of overtaking, maybe a crash and hopefully some rain could make it even more enthralling. It was almost perfect. On the first lap, watching twenty-four rapid cars speed round one corner, in five seconds, was exhilarating. They weren't just in one line but spread over the track. This was proper racing! Halfway through, light rain made it interesting. A few
cars found it difficult to brake and overshot corners letting the driver behind through. The crowd knew when they were watching something special.
Since the race took a couple of hours, I could spend a lot of my time strolling along the bank, watching and meeting various fans. The most keen were the Russians. These guys weren't shy when it came to expressing their patriotism and not wearing many clothes. Ferrari was easily the most supported with fans completely kitted out: shirt, hat, trousers and F1 style headphones. No expense spared. These people love Formula One and there was no way they were going to hide it. What brought a smile to many was the mingling of the fans. Supporters representing several countries shared photographs with their differing home flags. They all were grateful with each others company.
Remember when I mentioned the day was "almost perfect"? This was because my camera memory card failed just before the raced started. I had lost some of my iconic images from The Taj Mahal and other beautiful sights in India. I was on the verge of tears. That'll teach me to back up my photographs constantly. Technology cannot be trusted!
Moreover, Shuk and I were watching a section of track where Vitaly Petrov had a spectacular crash. It just so happened that it occurred two minutes after we had left. I was furious but Shuk even more so. Gutting!
Only a couple of laps later, my favourite driver, Sebastien Vettel (I liked him before he was champ!) won the race. Following his lap of honour, the German national anthem played. The German supporters belted out their anthem to conclude a fantastic weekend. What a pleasure to attend this worldwide event. I witnessed the greatest driver, Michael Schumacher, represent Malaysian company, Petronas; I watched the potential successor to his dominant throne cruise to victory and Lewis Hamilton fail (I don't like him by the way). In the future, I hope to attend the special races (in my opinion) such as Monaco, Singapore and Abu Dhabi. But for now, I am privileged I was able to attend.
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Chris
non-member comment
Boy v Man
So is it Dan the Man or Dan the Little Nephew? - I would have thought by now that your old man would have pointed out that using the word Auntie could land you in a lot of trouble. Last time I heard it used from a grown man was on the tube with my nephew Ajay. He had gone through the barrier and was waiting for his Aunts and my junior squad. Naturally (being Asian) he was asked what he was doing standing around (he also had a ruck sack on his back) waiting. His response in his broad Aussie accent was "I'm waiting for my Aunties". Fortunately I was only yards away when he said this and was able to persuade the copper to put his gun back on safety. Up to you of course but small changes can help save your life. By the way I hope it isn't too late but there is a reason why Krabi is named as such. Keep it going and let me know if you want a number fofr my rellies in Sydney. They know you'll be in Oz at some point and will be happy to put you up for a short while. You can even meet Ajay who can tell you more about his near death experience in the London jungle.