They say that if you go to only one Formula 1 Grand Prix, it should be Monaco. So we did. This was Dad's retirement present from Mom; Donal and I tagged along for, um, moral support or something. The package tour had us staying in Cannes (yes, the film festival place) and taking a 40+ minute train ride to Monaco each day for the events. We skipped on Friday's events (mostly just free practice sessions) and the first action we saw was the qualifying session on Saturday. After that, we watched the Formula 3000 race, and wandered off into the few open streets of Monaco for whatever the evening race was. On Sunday morning, we were provided with lunch at Le Bistroquet, a restaurant on a terrace directly overlooking the section of the race course between Casino Square and the first of the hairpins. My camera decided to suffer from battery fade about when the race started; besides, trying to take photos of a car travelling at a minimum of 80 MPH when your camera has a three-second delay between depressing the shutter release and the photo actually being taken is rather tricky. Big fun weekend, though, and definitely recommended even if you're not a petrolhead.
Le Bistroquet, the restuarant we had lunch in.
Racing Clios. Kinda scary.
Clios again. I'm honestly not taking pictures of the girl.
Another Clio. Note the David Coulthard inflatable hand in the foreground.
Premature camera! You can see the front of a Benetton F1 on the top right.
More premature (I ended up with no F1 pix) - but you can see what we were drinking!
Someone risks their camera to get a picture.
*sigh* more photos of empty track.
and more...
You'd think I'd get tired of these.
Or maybe they're all the same photo.
Dad fiddles with his own camera.
Loretta and her, er, inflatable Mika
Wayne makes a dive for Mika
More track, this time facing the other way.
Dad talks to a fellow retiree.
Wayne took this for me, as an illustration of what I should be doing with my camera.
That's me dancing with a crazy woman with a Jaguar flag after Eddie Irvine brought his Jag home in third.
Wayne mocks David Coulthard. Or the inflatable hand, maybe.
I join Boyzone, but briefly. Yes, that's "Keith from Boyzone"
Crazy Jaguar Lady is STILL dancing.
Dad views the track, up close.
The slowest corner in F1. Donal's the one wearing the brightest shirt in F1.
I have no idea who this guy is. Donal tells me he's a Monaco traffic cop that I insisted on photographing, but he has no idea why.
Some bikers play in the tunnel.
Wayne plays torreador to the bikers.