LEWIS HAMILTON WINS IN SUZUKA!!!

Date: Sunday 27^th September 2015

Weather: Hot and sunny … I'd prepared for wet weather therefore, I lacked any real protection from the sun and, as a result, my arms and neck are partially burnt.

MP3 track of the day: The winner takes it all – ABBA

Having circled the track yesterday, there was very little point in getting to the circuit early today. My room had been small, but the bed had been really comfortable and it was with some regret that I left it at around 7:30am. I got ready quickly before I left my room, bound for the breakfast hall; once in the hotels lift, I discovered that this hotel had a library and a games room with table tennis tables, pool tables and air hockey. I though it strange at first, that a 'reasonably posh' hotel would have to go to the length of providing that sort of entertainment; and then I remember that I was currently in one of the most boring cities in the world.

Whereas the bed had been great, the breakfast was okay. I chose anything western as I couldn't cope with copious amounts of rice this early in the morning. I watched the local news - amazed that there wasn't a single mention about the Formula One – before trying to workout what the days weather would be like but alas, no weather information was forthcoming either. I therefore gave up and went back to my room; I packed my bags quickly and did a final 'check' before vacating. I left my main bag in reception (to be collected later) and headed back to the train station.

Once again there was little in the way of information, for F1 fans, at Nagoya's train station. Today was 'race day' and so numbers would surely be higher than yesterday. There was however plenty of posters advertising that the 'Phantom of the Opera' would be shown in Nagoya next month. Also, for some bizarre reason which I still haven't worked out, the song 'he needs me' from Oliver was playing within a local shopping centre. I, of course, knew where I needed to go thanks to yesterdays trip; I managed to squeeze myself on a train - which was just departing - quite shocked to find that it was leaving Nagoya at the same time as the train I caught yesterday.

Once on the train, every minute felt like an hour. The train was packed and this morning's driver had failed to turn on the air-conditioning. It was during these 'one hour commutes' that an 'F1 buddy' would really have been handy to fast-track the hour; all I had was a toddler – in the seat behind where I was standing – who was fascinated in pulling my satchel's strap towards her. This caused a brief moment of fun but didn't really kill any time.

Once at the circuit's train station, university aged lads – wearing reflective tabards – directed me towards the circuit in the same fashion as yesterday. Though the race didn't start for another four hours, I was still battling my way through the crowds towards the circuit because, last night, I had finally decided what merchandise I wanted to buy and I didn't want to be told that 'my size had been sold out'.

It is very rare for me to purchase brand new sports shirts or designer clothes. I believe, bar a few exceptions, that you pay through the roof for a product which is worth half the cost 'quality wise'. When it comes to premiership football, F1, NBA or any other major sport, it does annoy me that business franchises – who aren't short of cash – fleece their own supporters for as much money as they can. I mean, if Manchester United can afford to pay a football player, who barely understands where Manchester is, millions of pounds a year, then they can surely afford to sell their team's shirt at £8.99. Usually I therefore have no problem in turning up, on race day, with clothes a few seasons old. Today however, and I am still not sure why, I decided to push the boat out and purchase not one, but two t-shirts and a baseball cap for £110.00. I'm not sure if it's the fact that I'm stuck in a country where F1 is as alien as a Mars bar; or if it was because I had specifically saved money to buy F1 merchandise however, I decided to buy the latest gear. Once bought I asked the saleswoman to cut the tags off the baseball cap and the 'Suzuka Lewis special t-shirt'. I then said thank you before popping off to buy a 'soft pad' for my seat, two bottles of drink and to go to the toilet where I changed my shirt and began to show allegiance to the great Lewis!

As I walked towards my seat, the sun was beating down hard and I was there in my new BLACK Mercedes Lewis t-shirt though, it didn't make me as hot as I thought it would. Once at my seat I rolled up my trousers and began to de-heat; as luck would have it, I'd arrived just as the Porsche support race was kicking off. Though I didn't know any of the drivers, the race was entertaining enough and I was very happy to see that, though this was a 'lower-division race' to F1, the first, second and third place drivers all got the same treatment as the F1 top three with podium celebrations, interviews and champaign.

Once the Porsche race had finished, the stands were packed and the sun was beating down. The Japanese woman – who I'd spoke to yesterday – had arrived and we exchanged the usual pleasantries. I now had two hours before the race commenced. I therefore left my seat and went to replace my, now two empty bottles of liquid, plus I had a bowl of Ramen for lunch. Once I'd used the toilet, I paused to make sure that I had done everything I needed to. Once certain I made my way back to my seat; I still had an hour or so until the race started. I looked up at the sky and realised that no rain would fall today; in fact, it was so hot that I tried to use my coat– which had been brought for wet weather – to protect me from the sun however, I knew, that I would have a few burnt parts once this was all over.

With forty-five minutes to go, the drivers parade started. At some races, the drivers are driven around the track on an open-top bus, so that they can wave to the crowds. At Suzuka – same as in Spa now I think about it – they were drive in classic open-topped cars. Only Perez was drawing some slight anger from my stand because, as he went past, his attention was directed to his phone. Seconds later, it then turned out that he was selecting his phone's camera option and, as he pointed his phone's camera towards the crowd, all was forgiven.

Once the parade had finished, the calm before the storm occurred. Still trying to keep the sun off my neck, I watched as the F1 cars drove a full lap of the circuit to get to their starting positions. Some cars – obviously wanting to practice some new set-up settings – did two or three laps before settling in their grid position. Two of those cars were the Mercedes boys, which worried me a little. After that my view was blocked by the grand stands; I focused on the TV and listened to the noise of the engines in the distance.

At 2pm precisely, Nico Rosberg led the cars on their 'warm-up' lap. As the cars came past my stand, I took a lot of photos as, during the race, I wanted to put my camera away. Content with the images I'd taken, I turned my camera off and put it in it's bag. As I was doing this the cars were finally lining themselves on the pit straight, ready for the red lights to go out.

And off they went! Nico made a terrible start which allowed Lewis to be by his side as they went into the first corner. Lewis had the driving line through the corner and came out of it in first position. I couldn't contain my excitement; usually Japanese people just sit their quietly and clap whereas I, seeing Lewis take 'P1' after the first corner, engaged my mouth to scream out his name and for my arms to wave in the air … much to the annoyance of the British Button fans in front of me. Once the drivers had made it through, Massa and the Red Bull boys came limping behind which, I guessed, was due to 'first corner collisions'. The race, very quickly, settled down into, what can almost be called a procession. Lewis was pulling away from Vettle at almost two seconds a lap! At the midday way point, Nico had fought back up to 'P2' but was seventeen seconds behind Lewis. Everyone was behaving themselves and, with no rain on the way, it suddenly dawned on me that this race, though through yesterdays qualifying had the ingredients to be electric, was probably going to be pretty boring. It's quite a difficult situation; it's a bit like your favourite football team leading by seventeen goals to nil at half-time. You're happy because your team is winning however, at the same time, you're a bit upset as the sport event lacks competition. This was how I felt during this race and, quiet honestly, my brain often switched from 'what’s happening race wise' to ' doesn't that car look pretty as it goes through the 'S-bends'.

With five laps to go, I could hear that the Mercedes boys had switched their engines down and, with Vettle thirty seconds or so down the lane, the race was effectively over. As Lewis crossed the finish line, I let out a cheer; nothing could be taken away from him. His drive was faultless and, I do genuinely believe, that I had been witnessing an 'F1 great', of my era, at his peek.

Due to Lewis' dominance, the race finished fifteen minutes before schedule. In some ways this was good because, to avoid the crowds, I'd pre-reserved my train ticket. I won't go into details but, originally, the race was due to finish at 4pm therefore, I had wanted to reserve a seat on the 5:35pm train. Sadly this train had been fully booked before I managed to get a seat therefore, I opted for the 4:46pm train, fully prepared that if there had been an accident or rain had fallen, I would have missed the train. As it happened I had plenty of time … or did I?

As soon as Lewis had past my seat on his 'celebratory lap', I got up and said goodbye to the Japanese woman next to me and headed out. From my seat to the station was a good thirty minute walk and I had just over an hour to complete it however, the crowds were incredible. At some points I was standing still with about a 1,000 other people resigned to the fact that I was going to miss my train. As it happened, after passing the second bottle neck, I was free to walk quickly. I arrived at the train station with fifteen minutes to spare; I'd even had time to go to the toilet and buy a bottle of coke for the way back to Nagoya.

Once at the train station I breezed past the 'peasants' – stood in two dense columns four wide and about 150 deep. I showed my reserve ticket to any official who dared to stand in my way. I then joined a queue consisting of about thirty people; I stood there momentary chatting to two Japanese Ferrari fans whilst the 'peasants' looked on with a mixed sense on anger and jealously. Soon I, along with the thirty other people, was escorted to my reserved train carriage where the seats were comfortable, the air-conditioning was on and no one was stood in the isle. As I looked around, everyone was shattered and the carriage started to resemble a library. As I sat in my cool seat, and put my feet upon the foot rest, I decided that if I was to attend this race next year, this is how I would travel for both days. The usual 'rabble ticket' cost £8.00 one-way whereas, this luxury ticket came in at £20 one-way. For the two days, travelling in style would cost £48.00 more however, at that moment in time, I thought that it was worth it.

Once back in Nagoya, I trekked up to my hotel to retrieve my bag before heading back to the train station. It was now dark and the walk really did highlight that I had burnt the insides of both of my arms and the back of my neck. Once back at Nagoya's train station, I failed to find the restaurant I was looking for and, instead, I opted for an expensive café. My mind was settled on this café due to the large selection of ice cream desserts and fruit-ice drinks. I ordered some toasted meat sandwiches – with a mixed fruit shake – and then a huge chocolate banana ice cream crape for dessert. Having been in the sun all day, I allowed my body to decide what I would eat.

During the middle of consuming my meal, a Chinese family - the size of which would be compared to a small UK village community – came in. One of the youngest members of the family was chosen to speak to the waiter as her English was pretty good. The Japanese waiter, being old, didn't understand English however, I felt that he was making it more difficult than it had to be due to the families nationality. Of course, the elder Chinese generation – plus the government – hate the Japanese … but actually, I would say that the Japanese's hatred towards the Chinese is greater. As I watched the elderly waiter finally break down a few of his own barriers, I wondered if these two nations would ever been able to live together harmoniously.

Once I'd finished my meal, I waddled to the exit where I met the elderly waiter. I asked him – in Japanese – where the bus station was and he was extremely helpful. I said thank you and left following the directions given to me. After buying a bottle of water I sat down within the bus station's waiting room and got out my book. This bus station was quiet bizarre due to it being located on the third floor of a shopping centre. I continued with my Wars of the Roses book until my night bus to Sendai arrived.

Once boarded I immediately disliked the bus. It was older than yesterday's bus therefore, I had a lot less room. To exacerbate the issue, one of my bags wouldn't fit in the over-head storage area meaning that I had even less room. I tried to make myself as comfortable as possible and, incredibly, I managed to fall asleep ever-so soon … only to wake up at midnight.

- Monday 28^th September -

As one o'clock approached panic set it. I felt as though I would never get back to sleep however, as if by magic, I awoke to see the clock had changed to 5:30am. The bus had just stopped at a service station; after this stop it was an hours drive to Sendai. The driver told us that we had thirty minutes, so I hobbled off the coach trying to walk normally however, I soon realised that I couldn't due to the the position I had slept in last night. Once I'd freshened up, I drank a cup of hot chocolate quickly before boarding the coach for the final leg of the journey.

Once in Sendai I got off the coach and went into the nearby train station. As luck would have it, a train was waiting for me to take me home however, it was pretty full so no seats were vacant. As I stood there, half asleep, I thought about my trip and asked if it had all been worth it; the night buses, Nagoya, the disappointing race and qualifying plus the endless crowds and expense. I smiled and realised that it was a resounding yes. There is something special about going to a sport event which happens in many different countries only once a year; F1 is unique and, if given the opportunity, I would like to attend more races in the years to come.

Once back at my apartment I settled down and unpacked my bag, washed all my clothes (including the Lewis Suzuka special t-shirt … I gave that it's own private wash) before checking my emails and photos of the past two days. I was pretty tired therefore, I new today would end early and that most of the day would be spent relaxing, watching TV and preparing for my winter holiday (only two months to go!). One thing I must watch is the Japanese GP … it would be nice to re-live my memories and see if I can see myself on TV.

COME ON LEWIS!!!!

Toodle Pip!

Love Suzuka … hate Nagoya

Date: September 26^th 2015

Weather: Hot and a little sweaty … I think I got a little sun burnt.

Mp3 track of the day: Flash Gordon – Queen (the song featured on the circuit's chosen music list for the day … honestly)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

- Friday 25^th September 2015 -

Now; when I usually start one of my holidays, after finishing school on a Friday, my first lines indicate that there was some kind of rush … that I couldn't wait to leave school … that I was battling against all the elements. Not this time. I casually finished work at around 4pm and said goodbye to all of the other teachers. I may have even left school late, I can't remember. I proceeded to walk home at a leisurely pace and, once home, I checked the days news. Today, I would be boarding the 9:30pm night coach to Nagoya. I had planned on leaving my apartment at around 8pm; giving me three and a half hours to eat dinner, check my emails and relax. I even had time to, sort of, get ready for bed by taking a shower and brushing my teeth after eating dinner. At 8pm I unplugged all electrical equipment and locked my apartment.

I arrived within the centre of Sendai at around 8:30pm. I walked to the bus centre and waited forty-five minutes for my coach to show. Before leaving my apartment, I'd gone onto 'Amazon.co.uk' and order the latest novel in the 'Wars of the Roses' series. Conn Iggulden is quickly becoming my favourite author and 'bloodline' – the third novel in the 'Wars of the roses' series – was released yesterday. I eagerly turned on my Kindle and read the first chapter, which basically reminded me of how the previous book had finished. Once that chapter had been read, my coach arrived and I got on.

When the Japanese do a night coach … they really 'do' a night coach. All of the seats were separated and had plenty of legroom. The driver was partitioned from us passengers by a huge curtain which stopped all light from disturbing our sleep; each passenger also had their own curtain so that they could also create their own area. I reclined my chair as far as it could go and was surprised to find that it was almost horizontal. Once I'd worked out that it was better for me to use my blanket as a pillow, rather than as a blanket, I fell into a deep sleep almost immediately.

- Saturday 26^th September 2015 -

The coach stopped three times on our journey. Each time I woke up and peered out between the join in the curtains to discover that we had stopped at a motorway service station. When the coach stopped the first two times, I eagerly got my shoes on as a toilet break, plus a walk, was very welcome indeed however, neither came. I couldn't understand why we had stopped if it wasn't to allow us passengers off for a toilet break. Guessing that the stops were either mandatory breaks for the driver – or they had some stuff to deliver – I unlaced my shoes and fell back to sleep. When we stopped for the third time I had grown wise to this phenomena and kept my eyes shut … only to discovered that this was a rest stop for the passengers. I quickly got on my shoes and headed into the toilets to freshen up before arriving in Nagoya.

The sun was rising and after a further hour of driving, the coach stopped within Nagoya's bus station (located right next to Nagoya's train station). Nagoya is Japan's forth largest city and 'functional' would probably be the best word to describe it. Unlike most cities in the UK, the surrounding motorways all feed into the city and are elevated above it using bridges and stilts. This means that, though Nagoya is one of the ugliest cities I've ever visited, it's also the only city where, after making one right-hand, and one left-hand turn, you end up off the motorway and at the cities bus station.

I had a few jobs to do in Nagoya before taking the train to Suzuka. First of all I had to find my hotel and drop my 'night bag off'. Then I had to get some breakfast, withdraw some money, respond to a 'call of nature' before finally finding out where the train, bound for the Suzuka circuit, departed. I have to tell you now that, only the 'bag dropping' went like clockwork; what follows below is a report of pure anger, frustration and amazement.

My hotel was a good twenty minute walk from the train station. This I knew when booking it; I had done so because it was the cheapest room left in the whole of Nagoya (and it still cost me nearly £50 for a night). With my trusty map I found the hotel with ease and left my bag. I then proceeded back towards Nagoya's train station.

Nagoya is Japan's forth largest city. Formula One is a 'world championship' sport and had been coming to Japan for over thirty years. There was not a single poster, sign or person, within the whole of Nagoya's station, which helped with getting an anticipated 50,000 people to the Suzuka formula One track. Nothing in English, or in Japanese. The stations information centre was shut and wouldn't open for another two hours. Same could be said for all shops bar McDonald’s and for the ATM I wanted to use. As for the toilet situation; I queued up in one of the stations 'facilities' to discover that there wasn't a single western toilet (I walked to another toilet block where I found a western toilet). After eating at McDonald’s – due to lack of choice – I found the first person who looked official and told them to come and help me. Finally, with my train ticket bought, I made my way to the platform to discover lines upon lines of people dressed in every F1 racing teams colours from present day, all the way back to the 1970's. Though the majority of people were Japanese, a hell of a lot of people standing in these queues were foreign and I did feel sorry for them; for me to get this far, I'd had to use Japanese … I wondered how these other people had managed to get here. Finally a ridiculously small train arrived and I squeezed myself onto it, leaving a few people to wait for the next one. The train then proceeded to stop at eight places before arriving at the Suzuka circuit train station, even though everyone wanted to go and see the race … and that no one else would fit onto the train.

It took almost an hour to arrive at, what was effectively a bridge with a small platform. I read the sign in the middle of 'said platform' which told me that this was indeed the Suzuka circuit train station. If Nagoya had been a master class in 'how not to organise transport for a major sporting event', then Suzuka was the opposite. As soon as I left the train people in high-visibility jackets directed me to a ticket gate. This ticket gate split people up into 'different train ticket groups' which allowed for a faster exit. I was then greeted by a person, every one-hundred feet, pointing in the direction of the circuit … flags were also lining the streets all the way to the circuit (though ironically, none of this was needed as I just followed the huge crowd of people in front of me).

After a twenty minute walk I arrived at the gates to the circuit. Before arriving I'd past temporary car parks where farmers and businessmen a-like were touting to a continual moving line of cars – also heading to the circuit – to use their car park. Drivers had to be wary; parking could cost them anywhere between £16 and £32 for the day! Finally, heroically I presented my F1 ticket to a gate attendant and, once she had drawn a blue line on my ticket, I was allowed to pass.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with F1 and F1 races; it's more than just a ninety minute sporting event. An F1 weekend starts on the Friday and finishes on the Sunday. There are the F1 practice sessions, qualifying and of course the F1 race itself however, there are also support races and, away from the track, there are usually some other acts including bands, mini-race tracks and the occasional theme park. Suzuka is my third race. I have been to Spa, Belgium – which had most of the above – and Shanghai, China – which had hardly any of the above and it felt as though there was a lot of confusion over what the sport actually was. Even though F1 has few Japanese fans compared to Europe, the Japanese were still putting on a great show. There was an amusement park close to the track, a stage where interviews were taking place, music, a Red Bull DJ, old classic F1 cars on display, lots of merchandise stalls and many food outlets. It was a real, proper, F1 weekend and though some Japanese people looked a little shell-shocked, I dived right in looking at everything.

I spent quite a while looking at the merchandise. So far, I've come away with a programme from every Grand Prix I've been to and, I was determined that this wasn't going to change therefore, for my first act, I bought a programme which, I agree would have been better to get at the end of the day however, I didn't want to risk them being sold out. I then looked at boxes of cakes I could buy for my work colleges and small gifts for closer friends. I had also budgeted £130.00 to allow me to buy a 'Mercedes jacket'. Ever since Lewis Hamilton changed teams I've wanted some new clothing and I felt as though a light-weight jacket would be seen more often than a t-shirt however, when I looked at what was on offer, I felt that a t-shirt gave better value for money (which meant that I could also afford to buy a new baseball cap). None of this mattered at the moment as I had failed to get any cash out in Nagoya; I had hoped that the circuit would have had an ATM. It did … but there was no English option. I therefore found myself looking at things I would buy on Sunday.

Once I could look no more, I walked in the direction of my seat. It had been hot and humid all day and, not to put a to finer point on it but, my back was covered in sweat for the second time today. My seat was located at 'point D'; this – for those of you that know the circuit – is after the first corner and is located at the start of the three 'S-bends'. Once I found my seat I knew that I had struck gold; to my left, I could see all of the way down to the first corner and, to my right, I could see the track go up towards Suzuka's famous tunnel. I sat down feeling rather pleased with myself.

The time was around midday and I still had another three hours before qualifying started. Within those three hours was one practice session however, that still left two hours with very little to do. I didn't mind though; my feet were hurting therefore I just sat there, flicking through my race programme (which was in Japanese), trying to 'de-sweat' my back. Occupying the seats around me were a mix of Japanese, American, New Zealanders and some Brits. The foreigners were located in front of me and, it would appear, that the Americans and Brits formed one big party. It would also appear that, for some of them, this was their first Grand Prix and, most probably, the first race they had ever seen. I made this assumption based on two striking pieces of evidence; firstly, a British woman had to explain EVERYTHING to some of her party (which surprisingly, didn't really get annoying). Secondly, when a drivers time is shown on the 'timing board', only the first three letters of the drivers surname are shown (so for example, HAM means Lewis Hamilton). One of her party guessed that BOT meant Botterchelli – instead of Bottas – which even made me smile.

I mentioned above that an F1 race is a three day event. Well, Friday and Saturday morning only consist of practice sessions. These sessions are, quite frankly, boring and that's why I never head to a circuit on a Friday. The practice session occurring in front of me was no exception; I took a few photos, watched how close the cars got to the kerb and listened to the engines as they went past (quieter than in the past plus, the Honda engine sounded awful). Though my mother would tell me off, I found myself listening to other peoples conversations throughout the practice session as, sadly, I didn't have anyone to talk to. This all changed after the practice session had finished. I went to the food stores to consume a delicious – but over-priced – hamburger and get another bottle of coke; Once I returned to my seat, the Japanese lady next to me said – in Japanese – that it was okay for me to lie my umbrella down under her feet. I said thank you and, once she realised that I could speak a little bit of Japanese, a full conversation flowed which, admittedly, was lead by me and I hope I didn't annoy her.

Due to getting and consuming lunch, plus chatting to this woman, the time between the final practice and qualifying flew by. I glanced at my watch and realised that today's main event was about to start. Hamilton headed qualifying one, with Rosberg leading qualifying two. None of the major players had been knocked out in either of the first two qualifiers therefore, the excitement was building up to a great final. Finally, qualifying three started. I watched the drivers do the start of their qualifying lap. Lewis had gone quickest in sectors one and two however, with a mistake in sector three, he was only second fastest. After the traditional 'qualifying three lull', the drivers took to the track once more. Lewis was pushing hard, setting a blistering time for the first sector before disaster happened. Up ahead of him, the Russian Red Bull driver had put one of his tires onto the wet grass by mistake. This meant that his car was placed into an uncontrollable slide, the result of which saw the car rolled and smashed into many pieces. The driver, thankfully, was okay however, it was too dangerous to complete 'qualifying three' therefore, the rest of the session was cancelled and Lewis had to settle for his first recorded time.

I sat down, feeling a little robbed by the accident. Most formula one fans would agree that the final lap of qualifying three was 'the lap' of the day. This was when the drivers would be going at their maximum, hitting every kerb with the aim of going as fast as possible and, for me, on this day, I was robbed of this lap by an accident. I wasn't sad though. As the drivers final 'race positions' were confirmed I smiled. A few drivers had 'under performed' meaning that their fast car was further down the grid than it should have been. With the possibility of rain, the race tomorrow was starting to look as though it could be epic and I was hoping, with every bone in my body, that it would be Lewis who found a path through the carnage that would surely occur tomorrow.

With the qualifying over I looked at my watch and discovered that it was 4pm. All around the circuit, scores of people could be seen getting out of their seat and making their way to their nearest exit. The foreigners close to me decided to stay put which, looking at the crowds, was a very sensible thing to do. I, on the other-hand did vacate my seat but not with the intention of leaving the ground quite yet. I wished the Japanese lady sitting next to me a pleasant evening and told her that I think that I'll have a walk around the circuit … and this what I did.

The Suzuka circuit is very, very long; it therefore took me a good half an hour to battle my way past the tide of fans heading for the exit and out into freedom. Evidence of fans watching the qualifying could be seen in all directions though, not because of rubbish; due to the hundreds of bins lying around the circuit, the place was relatively clean. Foot prints, banners and flags had been left in place ready for tomorrow. As I walked around the track I found a few fantastic spots to watch the race from however, for most of the time, my view was restricted by temporary fencing covered in white plastic sheeting. I could hear that a Porsche race was happening and I managed to get a few glimpses as I walked.

Sadly, I discovered that I couldn't walk all the way around Suzuka's '8-figure' circuit. I had covered about seventy-five percent when I came to the end of the path. In front of me was a slightly wooded hill. I therefore turned around, content that I'd seen as much of this circuit as possible. The time was about 5:15pm and the amount of people, heading to Suzuka's train station, had reduced to a small trickle. Once again everything was well organised; I bought my ticket from one tent before joining a smallish queue. In front of me I could see the platform; there were scores of people on the platform already, each person designated a carriage. Just to my left, people were lined up in rows. Each row was given a number which married up to a train carriage. The trains came pretty quickly and I soon discovered that, my walk around the circuit, had meant that I'd missed the rush and I found myself joining the last major group of spectators heading back to Nagoya. All-in-all I waited for about twenty minutes before I boarded a train and was on my way back to Nagoya.

The train made a lot less stops than this mornings train however, the amount of time saved was minimal. I therefore arrived in Nagoya at around 6:45pm … almost an hour after I'd left the Suzuka train station. I got out some cash, inquired as to when the first train left for Suzuka tomorrow and fought my way through the crowds and out of the train station. As I walked to my hotel I contemplated getting the earliest train; I didn't need to get to the track quite so early however, missing the morning rush was quite tempting. That whole idea came to an abrupt end when I got to my hotel to discover that breakfast started at 7am.

My room is okay; the bed looks comfortable and the bathroom is clean however, it is very small. I put on the air-conditioning and walked out of my hotel room almost as soon as I had entered it. I went back to reception to inquire about restaurants within the area. Apparently, If I wanted foreign food or tempura, I would have to walk back to the train station. Being totally shattered I opted to head to my local convenience store and pick up a boxed lunch, a cake and some ice cream. My hotel was a twenty minute walk from the train station and, apparently, there were no restaurants close-by. Though I thought it impossible, I soon discovered that my hatred towards this city grew.

I consumed my dinner and wrote this blog before noticing that the time was 10:30pm. I switched off my PC and went to sleep, dreaming of the endless possibilities and, when all was said and done, hoping that Lewis would be standing on the top spot of the podium.

Come on Lewis!

Toodle Pip!