Last Weekend’s Weekend Wind Up – The Pseudo Holiday

I am a very bad blogger this week. I have hardly read anybody else’s blog and mine hasn’t seen any love for over a week now. I wrote the below post last Sunday night but I intended to upload the photos from my DSLR to it. The Designer has been super busy with a lot of computer stuff this week and since the break in I don’t have my own computer (oh I know – cue violins please) so I have uploaded some of the shots I took with my iPhone instead.

Last week, The Designer and I had a pseudo holiday. You know the kind, you put in for leave from work, pack up the car and yet at no point do you ever really switch off or relax because you’ve packed it so full. In saying this, it was still frickin awesome.

Weekend before it, we went on a camping trip. I spent the entire day following at home washing things, various camping things, fixing things and barking at The Designer to switch off the PlayStation.

And then we went to Bathurst.

My family live in Bathurst and it is a gorgeous cosmopolitan town, filled with tree lined streets, cafes and pubs on most corners. But during race week the town transforms into a bustling, loud metropolis, filled to the absolute brim with race fans, grid girls and the real heroes of the week, The Drivers.

Some love it, some hate it. For the most part I fall into the former category. If you’ve ever seen Craig Lowndes rip around the track like he did in Sunday’s final 20 laps, you’ll know what I mean. I had my heart in my throat and didn’t know if I was cheering louder for Tander or Lowndes but was so thrilled to see the massive smile of the face of Garth Tander and the particularly bemused 22 year old face of Nick Percat.

I’ve put together some photos (mostly they’re not my favourite ones… refer to above tale of woe) from my race week experience…

Eating hotdogs in the rain, waiting for the Supercars

Peeking into The Pits

Supercars rounding Murray's Corner after a Safety Car lap

Sometimes bad things happen in Supercar racing and many hats must go off to race marshals who acted uber quickly when David Besnard’s car exploded in a fiery mess. We were at the bottom of the track at that time enjoying a dagwood dog and peering over the hill at Murray’s Corner when a flurry broke out and everybody strained to hear race commentator’s tell us Besnard was going to be ok.

And then they said he was going to be ok.

I don’t care what anybody says, if it makes me a bogan that’s ok – I love the Bathurst 1000!

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