Moto GP

Andrew is a massive motorbikes fan - I remember the night he rolled up to one of our pub crawls with a new bike. Not just the bike but the fact it was the first time one of our group wasn't drinking because something (ie getting the bike home safely) was more important than getting drunk. Unfortunately he's also suffered the curse of bike riders - a crash and a few months on crutches. So its no surprise that it has been one of his life's dreams to get to a 500cc MotoGP, and its no accident his visit to Portugal was timed to coincide with the race at Estoril. However the race had sold out well before his dates were confirmed, and the urge to chill almost overrode the desire. But not for long. We decided it was better to try to experience as much as possible, get as close as we could rather than regretting "so near yet so far". So we joined of the motorcade of bikes heading west to Lisbon and on to Estoril.
We stood in line until tickets sold out then spent a couple of hours standing at the gate watching keenly for scalpers or people with extras. One of the advantages of people visiting is that I learn to apply Portuguese in different situations so I can now beg, haggle and scalp tickets :) After a complicated deal involving buying two grandstand tickets then onselling a standing room ticket (all at face price so no actual scalping - bizarre!) we were in!
Not that a grandstand ticket gets you a seat - I don't think anyone has heard of overcrowding so the only room was on the grandstand stairs packed in amongst all the Spanish that had ridden across the Iberian peninsula for the day.I've always thought motorbike riders/enthusiasts were a close-knit, passionate breed but the intensity of feeling here surprised me. One guy next to me practically sulked when his favourite rider crashed out. I tried to mimic the same emotion when the lone Aussie crashed out but just couldn't match his passion. Or that of the young Valentino Rossi fans below anxiously hoping he can regain front position towards the end of the race.

I've never been a big motorsport fan, nor a major bike fan. Yet you couldn't help but be caught up in the excitement of the race - the noise, the speed, 4 lead changes in the last lap and a photo finish at the end. A Spanish rider won meaning all the Spanish fans rode back east happy, Valentino came second and went to the top of the riders championship so everyone in "46" was happy, and Andrew had seen a race so he was happy. Me? Of course I was happy ;)

You'll notice from recent photos that my hair has grown stupidly long. I have some options - 1) wait til my next trip to Lisbon and get a "fashion" haircut where at least I might be able to speak English to keep it almost normal 2) go to the hairdresser in town that my fashion-conscious gym trainer gets hair cut at (and his legs waxed) 3) go to one of the millions of small barbers shops around Montemor. Hmmm what to do?!