June 15, 2012
As luck would have it I’ve discovered that cousin Hugh lives only about 20 minutes from the Silverstone race track, so we combine a lunch with him and Sylvia with our planned visit to the MotoGP.
I last saw Hugh when I was 10 and he’s as charming as I remember. Our kids are about the same age, he’s into mountain-biking and Sylvia is a swimmer. We have lots in common. An afternoon catch-up will have to do but more visits would be lovely. Head on a cruise out Australia way, you pair.
At our comfy pub lodgings in the village of Woburn, we meet friendly Brits who’ve come to cheer on the local lads. We walk the track circumference on Saturday practice day (I hobble most of the way when my boot collapses) and almost get blown off the top of the grandstand stairs. Why are we doing this? In bitterly cold gale-force winds? It’s tradition, I know. Graham offers me a chance to sit, sympathy and the promise of a new pair of boots. He does look after me. We hope for nicer weather and look forward to a seat in the grandstand all day tomorrow.
Race day is sunny, still, and almost warm. This is more like the summer we were expecting. We meet more friendly Brits cheering on their riders. All in all it’s a fun day, even if Casey comes second.
Dinner Sunday night is with Kevin and Hilary. Kev, who works with Alistair, helped select and buy our bike for us. Taking them for a thank-you dinner is the least we can do. They’re a delightful couple, our age, who like fishing and cows and mystery weekend rides. We share our Robin Hood cemetery story. They appreciate that.