MotoGP & Amsterdam

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The alarm rudely woke us at 0500 but the thought of attending my first ever MotoGP made it a little easier to get out of bed. We'd run through the train schedules to ensure we would get in to Central Station on time to connect with our train to Assen and at 0545 we boarded the first of three trains to the circuit.

The friendly staff at Centraal pointed us in the right direction for the train to Assen and we were off on time at 0630 after some early confusion with two trains being on the same platform. A growing number of folks in MotoGP or motorcycle merchandise gave the correct train away. We had one change of train about 90 minutes into the trip and had to wait no longer than a few minutes before the final train to Assen left the platform.

There were two busses awaiting our arrival at Assen Station and we queued for a minute or so to buy EUR5 tickets return to the TT Track about 5kms out of town. Special bus lanes created for the event were put to use and we flew past the queues of cars and motorbikes, past camp sites to be delivered just 200 metres from the turn one entry. The whole process from out hotel some 35kms out of Amsterdam had taken just under three hours. It took me that long to leave from home and drive to the V8 Supercars at Pukekohe the first year they ran it! The whole process was smooth, well practiced and designed to be as easy as possible.

Our tickets got us a view of turns two through five, with a sweeping right-hander and a tight left-hander before the bikes took off down a long straight. We arrived in time for the Moto2 final practice which I watched before heading out in search of a feed and some drinks. The queue to the tents were already 20 deep but it only took me 10 minutes to make my way to the front and order two Salmon and cream cheese rolls and two ham and brie rolls. They came in at EUR18... cheaper than Paris and not too far off the street rates for similar fare - all from an event caterer!

Moto3 was taken out by the Alex Marquez while in Moto2, Maverick Vinales put on a hell of a show to come from 8th on the grid to 2nd, unable to beat the Australian Anthony West in a wet race after a short but heavy rainfall delayed the race start by 20 minutes.

The main event was unsurprisingly taken out by Marc Marquez - his eighth win from eight starts for the season. Andrea Dovizioso and Dani Pedroza made up the podium. Despite Marquez' run at the front, 90% of the crowd were screaming and yelling for Valentino Rossi - he could do no wrong and made run from 12th to 5th, the result of a good tyre selection on a wet track that dried surprisingly quickly and superior craftsmanship in the corners when in a pack.

Nik and Emil headed back to Amsterdam while the girls and I stayed back for the Red Bull Rookie race and a round of the Dutch Superbike Championships. One poor bloke came a cropper on the left hander and tried to stand up, he'd clearly broken his leg but as he had fallen in the middle of the track he used his hands to drag himself off, barely escaping being run over by the chasing pack.

The bus and train trip back from Assen to Amsterdam Central was just as easy as the trip out there... almost a pleasure. Elin and Klara headed back to the hotel while Jo and I met up with Nik (who'd already had a few beers) in town and we headed to The Grasshopper. Brazil was fighting for their World Cup lives and we watched the extra time and penalty shoot out against Chile that almost saw a huge upset... almost. The Brazillians advanced and one of the big underdog stories of the World Cup headed home.

Our next stop was back at Rock Planet where we all had a couple more beers, making requests of the bar girls who were happy to oblige us on our musical requirements.

We walked through the red-light district where it was all go. The girls in the windows were doing whatever was required to attract attention and the boys on the street required little further motivation. I was a little uncomfortable, with the vibe for me being a mixture of a visit to a zoo with it's caged inhabitants and an anti-drinking advertisement. To each their own I guess but whilst it was a must-do it was not really my cup of tea.

I'm pretty sure there is a saying "When in Amsterdam... do as the Amsterdammers(?) do" so we stopped in at a coffee shop where for EUR7 the owner gave us what the menu claimed to be "White Widow". Something didn't seem at all right to me but Nik and Jo both left suitably glazed over and a nudge slower than usual. I'm pretty certain it was synthetic.

It was our final stop of the night where I met my fate. We found a tiny little upstairs bar where the owner was showing live coverage of Metallica's set at Glastonbury. The sight of a 10 year old Laphroaig bottle on the shelf was too good to turn up so we took our places at one of the half dozen tables in the bar.

Unbeknownst to me, Nik poured his scotch into my glass and when added to the additional beers we bought there, I got just a tad pissed.

We left to get the train around 0100 but there was an issue with the train that meant we had to change platforms and we didn't get to our hotel until 0200. On arrival we discovered that our toilet was running and making a hell of a racket. The hotel staff couldn't fix it and asked us if we'd like to change rooms. We were due to wake up in just 2 1/2 hours time so we declined. Unsurprisingly I was out cold within minutes.

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