Been a while since I had second thoughts on selling a car. Looking around on forums, it’s quite clear that this green car had touched more than a few chords. It went in today for an inspection at JZM and it passed with flying colours which perversely, made me more upset. Knowing the car was immaculate and, I quote, “The cleanest RS I’ve ever seen”, made me want to just keep it forever.

I had cherished and worshipped the car with much wax and tears. In the 5000 miles I did over the past 6 months, it made me smile at every mile.

It was also the most dramatic 911 I’ve owned as it garnered enough attention from the public to make it a minor celebrity. I will be back in a 911 GT3 before long, they are too good to be away from for too long.

So, no more spine tingling at 7500 RPM. No more expertly crafted, precision engineered cornering characteristics. No more drifting on bends at 45 degree angles, carefully balanced by throttle and steering input so delicate and flexible that each 500rpm on the rev range provides another +/- degree of attack. No more raucous sport button induced reverb off low, brick walls as you pass them. And finally, no more staring at perhaps the finest green ever placed on a car after applying a thick layer of expensive wax.

Right, enough tears, what’s next?

Sport chrono
Centre console painted body colour
Harnesses
Alcon JZM discs
RS29 pads
Uprated brake fluids

The car has had no expense spared in my care and is set up already by Fearnsport for geometry. It was also inspected by them prior to my purchase and Matt said it was almost showroom condition.

What’s wrong with it? Not much really. It needs a touch up where there are a couple of small stone chips on the bonnet and it also needs a new set of tyres (still on original set). I would replace them myself, but a new prospective owner may have a preference. Other than that, it wants for nothing.

I’ve just had a stamp from Porsche East London for its recent service and I’ve also just taken out the all important Porsche International Warranty together with the roadside assist module. My recent bill there was almost £3,000.

I’ve also just purchased a new front splitter so the car looks fantastic.

Looking for £77k.

I hope Nathan doesn’t mind me using his images.

I’ve decided to sell the RS and it’s time for something that isn’t 911 shaped. I’m on my 5th GT3 and I’m getting bored of hearing myself wax lyrical about them. It really isn’t very becoming of me to continually bleet about a car so obviously brilliant. It’s sickening, really it is. It’s also utterly mental that I want to sell something that is so obviously brilliant too. It’s superb to look at, utterly intoxicating to drive, aurally stimulating and people love to watch, listen and ride in it. So why on earth am I thinking of selling it? Because, my non-existent, imaginary, binary friends, the grass is always greener.

What were my choices then? In no order of preference:

Ferrari 599
Ok, let’s just get this one out of the way. I like my V12 Ferraris, except I can never seem to afford them until they are at the end of their cycle run. Sub £100k is where I’m at, so Mr. Fiorano, another day perhaps.

Audi R8
Now that prices are down to sensible levels, there’s a lot to like about Audi’s offering. There’s also a sprinkling of choice, from V8 to V10 to the Spyder. Each model has its merits and they all make for a compelling argument. There’s real world practicality to consider, then there’s the every day accessible supercar performance coupled with a fantastic soundtrack. Aesthetically, it’s a bit of a disappointment in certain companies.

Porsche (insert a billion acronyms here)
The whole reason I have itchy feet is because I want to try something different. So that rules out a GT2, which I’ve been eyeing up for a while. I haven’t been as excited about a car in a long time as I have about the GT2RS. By all accounts it’s a monster and one of the fastest production cars ever. Georg Kacher, awesome Car journalist, recounts:
“I’m not sure that there exist enough Walter Rohrls to fully realise the true portential of the ultimate rear-wheel drive 911. Porsche can guarantee that the GT2RS has every piece of technology to humble any Ferrari, Lamborghini and Bugatti. Except, perhaps, an adequately talented driver.”
Colour me shallow, but that’s just a red rag to me. I fancy myself.
As for the GT3RS, I’m still a bit pissed with Porsche’s attitude to the whole sales process. I sent another email to Porsche GB asking them why, when I had been denied a car, were there well over a dozen cars currently for sale at speculators. I got no reply. Still, I shouldn’t cut my nose off to spite my face and it takes a fool to deny the GT3RS the merit it deserves – it truly is a spectacular car, I will have one next year I suspect when the prices settle down. At the moment, it’s not £40k better than my current car.

Which leaves me with only one other option. A phone call was made earlier today. :)

Four days at the Nurburgring, two of which would be on bikes, two days at Spa, an incredible cross country drive demonstrating some of the most verdant, beautiful coniferous green lands between Germany and Belgium and a solid helping of 30 deg heat throughout is surely a recipe for any petrol head.

Include the tools of surgery, them being two green GT3 RS’s and two Nissan GTR’s, and we’re either going to get into a massive fight or gain divine insight into the makings of automotive heaven.

The bravado had started months before, of course. Depending on which car you owned, the GTR was either an extraordinarily advanced automotive equivalent of HAL, leaving very little for the driver to do, or a revolutionary step in motoring, raising the bars of expectation. Similarly, the GT3 was either a prehistoric remnant of a romantic ideal no longer suitable for today’s audience, or it was a precision, scalpel like device that rewarded it’s drivers as much as it demanded from them. Either way, hearts would be broken, egos bruised and lap times championed.

It still surprises me just how much attention the green RS gets both on the road and in the paddocks. Put two of these cars together and the effect is amplified further. On motorways, other enthusiasts jostle, sometimes dangerously, as they undertake, overtake and pull over, with cameras in hand, just to be part of the convoy. The two GTR’s equally attractive, doing their bit for the decepticons, resplendent in their high tech paint work echoing shadows of Transformers-like aggression.

The three evening sessions Thursday to Saturday at the Nurburgring are to be the most sane of the whole week. As the weather showed signs of glory, every car club in northern Europe descended upon the place creating both a Mecca for car fans, but also frustration for those wanting to do some laps. Most people choose to use the ring carpark for posing, with many others having to queue for up to an hour just to get into the car park. Saturday we couldn’t even get on to the track as some banzai driver binned his car on his first out lap, causing the circuit to close for the whole day.

That’s the risk out there. I must have counted at least 15 trashed cars in 4 days and countless ambulances ferrying drivers to the nearest hospital. Its both a problem and, perversely, part of the attraction as adrenaline addicts flock to do the (£15!!) laps, oblivious to the threat of death. With tyres squealing at 165MPH, there simply is no time to contemplate mortality.

Sunday, being the only true all-day tourist day, open from 8am until 7pm, was a true comedy day. To think that our actions were completely legal must have been a sick joke upon the Germans. As a group of four, we bullied our way across the ring as we raced, raved and raped the german track and its inhabitants. Back into the ring car park, I removed my sweat drenched helmet and felt with guilty pleasure the buzz of having enjoyed yet another eight minutes of knife edge recreation unavailable anywhere else in the world.

So which car is the ring daddy? No doubt about it, the GTR is simply unbeatable. It quite literally has been built with a single purpose in mind, to dominate the ring and it does with aplomb. The GT3’s are out powered, out handled and out techno’d by a car fit for the 21st century. Not only does it have enough power to rotate the ring around the car itself, but its clever 4WD system makes the deploying of that power so damn efficient, it does not waste a single BHP in transition. The ring has many uphill sections which makes mince meat out of the normally aspirated GT3’s, without the torque, they just cannot compete.

Still, there’s no doubt that the Nissans are one track wonders. With soaring transmission and engine oil temps, the cars are unable to do more than one lap effectively. Add to that a 4 lap fuel tank, melting tyres and overheating brakes and the allure starts to diminish.

If lap times are your ultimate goal, then the GTR is unbeatable, but there are huge compromises as mentioned. The RS’s in contrast are bulletproof in comparison. Respectively, the Porsches are back-to-basics cars with little technology aside from chassis and handling expertise.

Incidentally, we did two laps of the ring on our mountain bikes. If you have a cycling interest then you MUST attempt this opportunity. We did the bike ride during an endurance race at the ring. It really was a spectacular, challenging and unique ride that had you following the 24km circuit around the outside.

Spa was a totally different story and all were amazed at the stark differences in car performance between the Nissans and the Porsches. To put it bluntly, the GT3’s were right at home as the cars were surgically woven from one bend to another in the fast, rapid switchbacks offered at Spa. The 1800kg weight on the GTRs could offer no comfort to any amount of technology as the GT3’s danced from one section to the next, deftly balancing braking, power and chassis dynamics.

Finished off a wonderful day at Spa by destroying a set of rears with some synchronised drifting with Richard Meaden. He was at Spa with a Porsche GB Gen 2 GT3 press car, Dickie can peddle and made for many awesome laps. When my fuel trip computer showed “– miles” in range, I then stayed out for another 5 laps, thats how much I was enjoying myself at risk of coasting the starved engine to a standstill. Got some nice drift footage which I’ll put up as soon as I get the DVD.
Edit: here it is

But the most memorable snapshot I brought back with me is an insanely beautiful drive across Europe as we took a scenic route between Germany and Belgium. Suddenly, lap times don’t matter and all we’re interested in is the noise of each others’ downshifts and throttle blips, no matter the car of choice. As we briskly accelerate between narrow tree lined roads, the sound of our exhausts reverb off the low walls bouncing back into our open windows hand in hand with the glorious sunshine of middle Europe.

It really is a defining experience of what makes the perfect motoring moment. The unnecessary heel and toeing, the intentional aggressive throttle between 3k-4k rpm, forcing the butterfly valves on the exhaust silencers to open and close at will and the physical leaning into each and every bend making the travel across this time locked land a magical experience as we chased the sun into the west.

I am naturally biased but with £100k in the bank, would I choose a GT3 again, or buy a GTR and put £40k away? Let me just say I have no regrets.

Edit: First video posted. Host car is Glenn’s, chasing mine.

It’s a given that at any time I have an organised event involving the car, I can almost always guarantee rain. Let’s not forget that this was my second scheduled visit as the first one was canceled due to snow. Regardless, I’ll not let the process of precipitation ruin a drive in one of 2010’s most anticipated cars, the new GT3 RS Gen 2.

The Experience Centre is a fantastic place, it’s a very cosy, intimate environment housing very expensive cars such as the LMP Spyder, Carrera GTs and the odd Silk Cut car. Each visit has a different set of cars so it’s a dynamic, changing place with great hospitality and even better food.

My instructor and I enjoyed the fantastic roast lamb lunch and soon made our way through a rather simple briefing session which is catered quite clearly for people who’ve never driven a fast car before. The centre provides experience days for every new car purchase from Cayenne Diesels to 911 Turbos so the diversity of character and experience is vast. 15 mins later and I’m sitting inside the new (soaking wet) RS.

Initial impressions are of course, wonderful. I challenge any petrol head to maintain a consistent BPM just looking at it. It’s one of those few cars that looks fast just parked. With an exaggerated aerokit promoting downforce by way of its massive, beautifully shaped carbon fibre spoiler and its deep, sculpted front skirt, it’s a candid car that simply does not hide its intention.

Stepping inside and here some cynicism prevails. Going from a purely functional aesthetic on the outside, seeing some of the minor gimmicks made me chuckle. Such as the cord pull doors (which really save nothing but add consternation when closing the door) and the delete air-con function, no sat-nav and lightweight car battery are weight saving features that cannot beat a pure and simple diet!

Starting the engine and we’re introduced to a fantastic baritone note that is ever more prominent thanks to the perspex rear window. In note and pitch, it’s the same sound as my red Gen.2 GT3, but slightly louder, owing mostly to a titanium exhaust and perhaps a more liberal carbon airbox. It’s a delicious note and I couldn’t help but constantly prod the throttle when at idle throughout the whole day, you cannot tire of it. Notch one to the RS.2.

Snick the gear lever into first, release clutch and you also notice that the car has become civilised. There’s less clutch chatter, the gearbox is well behaved and the new carbon seats don’t creak. Naturally there’s a lot to be said for a brand new car, but this had 1500 miles on the clock versus my 3600, so it’s not a huge difference. Also, this was a pre-production model, the only RHD car on the road – or not, as it’s not legally allowed on the road.

The first thing you notice is the new front end – with that wider track, it offers a near elimination of understeer. Even in the wet, once the tyres were warm, it had tenacious grip, allowing that oh so familiar delicacy of balance between front and rear wheels. Oversteer is also on demand, typically in lift off fashion again, but the over zealous protection of the instructors refused me any deselection of traction or stability control. Irksome to say the least, but from the hard forced tail out moments that even went beyond the intervention of any technology, it’s quite clear that the car retains its progressive and benign nature on and off the limit.

That 3.8 is a magnificent engine. It’s a true spiritual sibling to the retired 3.6 lump, sharing all the characteristics of its high revving nature without any of the set backs of capacity increases. You can notice the difference between the Gen 1 and Gen 2 cars, that extra 200cc makes some small, but noticeable, difference with a more tractable low revs pick up, leading to slightly punchier mid-range making some of the high rev shifting typical with the previous generation GT3’s a little redundant. I found myself short shifting a few times, apart from that delightful howl, there really isn’t a valid reason to wring its neck all the time anymore.

There’s even better stability in the harsh left – right switchbacks too, with the balance of the car remaining unprovoked. That wider track providing excellent reassurance. There’s a wonderfully poetic moment when you get a bend right in the RS called the slingshot. Get your angle right, as you wind off your lock coming off a bend, hit the throttle at the right spot on the apex and the car is slung with supernatural efficiency onto the straight, reinforcing the slow in, fast out methodology of the GT3. It’s devastatingly rewarding and demonstrates the absurd levels of mechanical grip offered by an off-the-shelf car. I can only imagine how insane it could be with a track geometry set up.

After an hour and a half of abuse, the heat build up in the car brought on a sweat in me (no air con guys, c’mon!) so I decided I’d had enough. As I pulled it in, it was quite clear by the onlookers which car was getting the most attention. And who’d blame them? The RS really does look fantastic. Incredible given how the internet was so scathing of it when wraps were first taken off. Can’t help but feel I’m smitten.

Walking away, I stepped towards my car with those comparative thoughts of ifs and whys. The most comforting thought is that I’ve got £30k sitting in my bank – ultimately, is it £30k better? Probably not, no.

But then that’s a logical, pragmatic decision out of sync in a world born from passionate ideals. And who wants to be sensible when you have a Grey and Red in the garage?

That wasn’t so much of an issue, most of you will know that I have no fear of the rain and in fact can take great enjoyment out of it. Thankfully, the rain cleared and we were blessed with a dry circuit for the whole day. But there were high stakes at play here, with most of my fellow racers come track day regulars were here in force to prove superiority over one another.

Oulton really is a unique circuit and is a great shame that it’s so far away from my house (about 3 hour drive in clear traffic). It’s got incredible, sweeping undulations, with more blind crests and bends than any other place I can remember, bar the Nordschleife. Like the 911 RS, it’s a multi-faceted place with layers of difficulty peeled off the better you become. It can reward and punish with equal measure, with very little run off on some of the massively hard braking areas, requiring you to depend on your hardware more than any other circuit I know of.

However, I simply was not on the pace. Good friend Glenn McMennamin, who recently won his ProAm 2 championship title in the Porsche Carrera Cup, was always a great benchmark. Even though he was always faster overall, I was able to at least make comparative judgment on the differences. At Oulton, however, I don’t know what happened, but he was simply in a different league, as was Ken, who competes in the Lotus Elise Cup. All three of us in 997 RS’s, I just simply couldn’t maintain the pace. I’d also just picked the car up from Fearnsport after a track geometry and suspension set up, together with that, I exchanged my standard discs for a set of awesome Alcon discs and Pagid RS29 pads all around. The discs, although expensive at £1600 for the pair, provide absurd levels of longevity, with my last set on the white car having lasted about 15 trackdays. The pads are also standard GT3 fare. Finally, brake fluids are changed to high boiling point Castrol.

No matter, I couldn’t get my power down, brakes just weren’t biting and ABS was not cutting in. It doesn’t take a genius, but at the time, I couldn’t see the problem, even though I was staring it down the face!

This was a major dampener for me so I consoled myself by resorting to drifting everywhere. Even on and off the circuit as I went out to buy petrol from the local Shell garage. Unfortunately, this earnt me two different warnings, both outside the circuit and inside! “Compliments of Race Control sir, but please could you stop your tyres from squealing everywhere?” Game over for me…

The GT3 comes with the Michelin Pilot Sport Cups (the tyre on the right) from factory. I knew that my tyres were original from new, now over two years old. Although they had some tread good enough for the road, Cups really need to be fresh to get the most out of them on track. I still wasn’t convinced until I stole Glenn’s spare set from the tyre support crew and got them fitted to my car. These were the new Pirelli Corsa R’s. Not only are they a better compound, offering some high tech science behind its grip levels, but they were also oversized, comfortably fitting a 325 section over a regular 305.

Oh. My. God.

It quite literally felt like a different car from the very moment I turned my first corner on track. Sure footed, solid, extraordinarily grippy with an almost total elimination of understeer and oversteer. It felt so amazingly different that I immediately knocked at least 5 seconds off a lap with them, perhaps even more. It truly was a revelation and I’ve never before felt such a stark contrast in tyre performance and technology.

The curious thing is that I’ve actually had these tyres before on my white GT3, but I do not ever remember being so blown away by them.

There are, of course, caveats. They cost £1700.00. Got back up yet? Here are a few alternatives for your £1700.00 :)

Are they worth twice the price of a set of R888’s? Are they worth a 50% premium over a set of Michelin Pilot Sport Cups? Well, how much do you value those seconds? And to be frank, it’s not just about the laptimes either, they are soooo surefooted, they present a new dynamic to your car previously unexplored. For me, there simply is no question, they are a necessary investment for anybody looking to get good performance on track.

I’ve waxed lyrical about them, so I’ll just end on saying the day was finished on a high note.

Full album can be found here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/blowdog/sets/72157623613201356/

Highlight photos:

I’m both terrified and extremely excited by the prospect of driving this car. Naturally, I’m as keen as anybody to see how much difference there is between not only my current RS, but also the Gen2 GT3, and the new Gen2 RS. It’s all getting complicated. However, I’ve also placed a mind-block upon myself, I’m psychologically blocking all RS.2 related material from cranial considerations. If I can’t get one, then they don’t exist right? Why torture myself!?

Autocar have just launched what is probably the best review of the car I’ve seen. Not only is the guy well informed, but we’ve got some real nice video footage of the car. :

There are a multitude of other video and magazine reviews out now, Porsche have no doubt just done the Press launch. Keeping a media black out on these reviews is proving to be very very difficult and I just hope that I’ll get in it and, well, hope it’s not all that better.

To boot, weather is looking spectacular :(

Having suffered an irksome spell of snow and bad weather over the past month, I was happy with anything other than more snow. So when the weather report said ‘Heavy showers all day’ I was jubilant. I’m no alien to a bit of damp and as I hadn’t yet had time to change my discs and pads to more powerful items, what better way to consummate my relationship with my latest GT3?

So the soldiers with me, Henry in his beautifully pristine Cobalt Blue 997 GT3 and Guy in his powerhouse Dark Grey Metallic Nissan GTR. Warriors into battle, not a shred of fear amongst us. As a threesome we’ve together done a multitude of international events. We’ve probably travelled to Europe together dozens of times. We know the best viewing points at the Nurburgring (They’ve done the Scuderia Hanseat 3 times each) We’ve done trackdays together in the 100’s. And this has been going on for nigh on a decade. It’s this experience that we’ve collated, not only as trackday drivers, that allows us as a trio of guys to anticipate each others moves in such a safe and fun experience, regardless of environmental influence. I remember once in Papenburg, northernmost Germany, I had severe tyre damage on 2 wheels. I had to drive back from Germany to London at 30MPH through the night. It took me 9 hours to get home. Henry and Guy (with chest infection) did not leave my side and stuck with me the entire journey.

It’s this trust that allows the three of us to attack a trackday employing the ferocity we desire, with zero visibility, without risk to ourselves or others.

Enough with the pleasantries. How was the RS? [broken record mode]Absolutely bloody brilliant [/]. I have no other word to describe it. Rain or shine, this car is the king – undisputed. It really was non-stop rain all day and the GT3 is not a car to take liberties with. But I know this car, I’ve lived with it for years. I know its habits, its foibles and its idiosyncrasies. I know when to press it, I know when to submit.

The RS was so similar to the cooking vanilla GT3 that I’m really struggling to find some difference. I do notice an eagerness to rev – this is down to both the free-revving nature of the lightweight flywheel and also an effect of noise driven by the lack of rear window insulation (it’s made of lightweight plastic). I also noticed that when provoked into a drift (which was practically a permanent state yesterday), the car had a tendency to snap back into your line of sight with aggression. If not checked, this can lead to snappy fishtailing. I’m blaming this on a number of things; Firstly, the road conditions were totally chaotic – with the deep freeze over winter, this was followed by monsoon-like weather. What this did to the track surface is anyones guess. Secondly, I hadn’t had a geo done on the car yet, so I’m not sure what kind of camber this car has out of the factory. Rumour has it that camber settings from factory are often inconsistent and need adjusting, regardless of setting. Finally, and almost obviously, we have a wider track on the RS. This would possibly account for more grip on the rear, something you’d notice when coming out of an oversteer/drift moment.

Two other things I’ve noticed about this car. There’s the noise. It really is a stupendous, epic, shrieking banshee wail that entices at 3k rpm, exhilarates at 6k rpm and brutally rapes the senses at 8.2k rpm. Halving the thickness of the rear window and turning it into plastic has amplified the acoustic brilliance from inside the car and the pursuit of revs continues over and over again. The other thing to notice is the fantastic braking stability with that spoiler. It has none of the shifting, fidgety nature the GT3 has, allowing you to haul in under hard braking time and time again with sure-footedness. It’s reliable, dependable and controllable right up to the stopping inch, allowing you to focus on your approach line with clarity.

As it’s thinner brother proved before it, the RS is a delicate tool. The GTR a crushing carpet bomb of excellence as it devours anything in its path with utter abandon, the RS choosing instead to surgically remove its targets one by one, micro-managing inputs, gracefully crafting a line from one corner to the next and allowing itself to be adjusted minutely as it communicates the level of each and every wheel, one by one. It really is a revelation in driver communication and the low level seating of the fixed carbon seats places your arse right bang in the middle of the front and rear wheels. I have full dolby 7.1 DTS surround and I’m watching Avatar from the best seat in the house. It’s still no match for the GTR’s power on the straights, nor its incredible technology when juggling drive distribution through its four wheels. Coming out of a chicane onto a straight, the RS is no match for the GTR as it just opens its maw and chews through metal, tarmac, flesh and bone combined. The only hope you have is to fix up a number of consecutive bends – at this, the GTR struggles to contain it’s leviathan weight as gravity simply cannot be overcome – regardless of how many GB of processing power you throw at it. Still, I know which car I’d rather drive home in and the GTR is no doubt worthy of the many international accolades it has collected. Speaking of, has anyone questioned why Michael Bay hasn’t used one in Transformers? It’s perfect!

What was surprising was the wet weather ability of the RS – especially given it was on Michelin Pilot Sport Cups – horrible wet weather tyres. I suspect with the Pirelli Corsa R Systems, the car would have ripped a hole in the fabric of space time continuum. Although grip was severely restricted, the sheer level of communication allowed for healthy progress.

Henry in his GT3 provides the comedy. We’ve always enjoyed the odd black flag at Snetterton as we cannot resist the odd showboating. Today was a little different with the marshals as they appeared to be quite laid back and relaxed, considering there were only 20 cars on the track that’s no surprise.

I still maintain that there’s very little difference between a GT3 and its RS stablemate. It’s just as competent and equally effective in both rain and shine. I really am loving the colour scheme though, as loud and offensive as it may be, it’s quite suiting really. The ultimate test will be on a dry day after I’ve done my track geometry set up. Then I will be in a position to compare and that day can’t come soon enough.

My name is Cem. I am a GT3 addict.

As my predecessor elected to retain the car upon the inverse of his garage, I came to the car and discovered it buried underneath 2 inches of snow. Anyone who’s anyone knows GT3’s hate the cold for long periods. They are wild, feral beasts that choose to dance upon warm environments and work themselves into sweated frenzies. Anything more than a couple of weeks in sub-zero temperatures, the battery dies.

And my battery was dead.

First trip to Halfords and I bought another trickle charger (typical when you REALLY need your trickle charger, it’s actually 50 miles north because a friend borrowed it). This was plugged into the car and after 6 hours, ignition turned. Great, still nothing. Another trip to Halfords and I returned with a new battery and £120 lighter of pocket. Official Porsche one costs £300.00 – I hope I will not need it come warranty inspection time, later this month.

At last, I’m out, winding down doing 40 mph on the North Circular with pleasant satisfaction upon myself. Not much can do this, I find being in a familiar car environment is the great antithesis to stress.

This is my first 997 in RS guise. After periods of ridiculing RS buyers for having too much money to burn, I find myself open to revenge criticism.

Comparisons between the two inevitable of course, but I’ll not be qualified to do so until limits are explored on track. What I can say from the off is how incredible susceptible the RS is to tramlining, the wheels finding solace amongst the rutted valleys within the tarmac. Especially so of late, as the snow and low temperatures have made a mockery of UK asphalt. I inadvertently went over pot-holes tonight that were violent enough to shatter my spinal column.

Noise is also amplified. Not only is the rear window made of plastic, so less able to insulate noise, but also the single mass flywheel makes for a very noisy clutch. The acoustic effect is there to accentuate the ‘trackday’ aspect of the RS, but what I found it does is make the standard GT3 so much more hospitable in times when you aren’t on the racetrack.

But these are minor negatives to what is, of course, a staggeringly good car. Perfect heel and toeing – not because I’m a heel and toe master, but simply because the car’s been built to allow me, nay, entice me to do it. In the same way the steering wheel position, relative to your seating height and arm length is just spot on and even when you’re at a traffic light you can’t help but feel you’re on the grid. It feels like that scene in Avatar where the Na’vi connect with various animals via the nerve receptors at the end of their hair. It’s just a raw, primal, fleshy connection between man and car.

Tonight’s weather conditions were treacherous, given the amount of crap on the roads, that wasn’t surprising. But the GT3, being the delicate tool that it is, is subtley attuned to these variations in road and weather conditions. Care and attention is required to avoid any heart in mouth moments that require quick flicks of the wrist and brave maintenance of throttle and steering alike, lest you end up like the poor Z4 driver tonight who inexplicably buried himself into the very foundations of Hammersmith flyover at 50 MPH. I couldn’t find the front of that car for the life of me. It simply was no more.

2009 was an appalling year, both commercially and personally. After having been subjected to countless burglaries and various episodes of the law working against me, it’s nice to be back in something that is familiarly excellent.

It doesn’t make 2009 alright, but it does make it easier to swallow.

Spot the coffee cup.

How quaint

However, in my deliberations concerning the continued reasoning of these opportunists, I’ve come to the conclusion that they are perhaps after the Focus RS. As a result, I made a rather hasty decision and sold it back to Perry’s Ford.

Hindsight always does cast a rose tinted projection of the past as I’m already missing it, despite hardly having used the car in the past few weeks.

I still maintain that it was one of the best and most dramatic looking cars on the road. It is positively overflowing with aggression and machismo with it’s bulldog like stance and flared and winged decorations. I wonder if it actually shares any panels with a normal Focus.

I do have a disadvantage, however, in comparing this to other cars of this genre. Fact is, the last hot hatch I owned was back in 1992 when I owned a Mk2 Vauxhall Astra GTE 2.0 8v so as a result, I have no experience in casting any benchmark comparison. I do, however, understand the concept of driver involvement and fun and for that reason, allow me to place judgment…

There seems to be a lot of press lately about the gross exageration of the Focus RS power figures. Although stated at about 305BHP, many journalists are claiming to have dyno’d no more than 275 – bringing it down by 30BHP. Coupled with a 1500kg weight, you’d expect a minor struggle, but it simply isn’t case with a ferociously addictive lunge that reels in cars in the horizon far quicker than any figures should give it credit for. It feels powerful, weighty and absorbed and does not let any of those qualities deter its delicious turn in. Even in the wet, sharp, quick turns of the wheel are followed by obedient, crisp adjustments. It feel dialed in completely, even with my tyres part worn.

But it’s also in the wet where the frustrations start to creep in – unfortunately, it’s pretty much rained the entire time I owned this car. Anything over than 50% throttle will spin the wheels in 1st, 2nd and sometimes 3rd gear – even with traction control on. Now, I don’t normally mind wheelspin, in fact I find it challenging. But in a FWD 300BHP car, it’s simply annoying. You see, the wheels don’t just spin away, the entire front section of the car jumps up and down like an agricultural pile driver. It makes an awfully embarrassing show of itself and I often wonder if people on the outside hear the massive bangs the suspension arms perform as the chin of the car makes out like Bruce Forsythe. It really is unseemly and all it does is stop you from accelerating hard again which kind of ruins the fun.

Another really annoying thing is the bloody mindedness of the entire lux pack 2 system. For a start, why oh why does it not come with the iPhone connecter cable from the begining? I mean what’s the point in providing all the technology and then leaving the owner to then subsequently go out to Ford and buy a £20 cable? No sense. However, that’s only the start of the problem as you try to define some logic in the arbitrary success of the unit. Sometimes it recognises your iPhone, sometimes it doesn’t. Today I spent 30 mins trying to fix the bluetooth, then realising that I’d arrived at my destination. Except the sat nav dropped me off 10 miles away from where I wanted it.

Finally, there’s the build quality, which is appalling. First, I had a large piece of plastic fly out from under the sat nav and land on my lap. I couldn’t fit it back on again so back to dealer. Except this time, the whole dashboard kinda punched itself out by about 2 inches on the left. So it went back to the dealer again, but not before deciding to vomit out all the screws that keep the inner wheel arch linings together (apparently a Ford recall).

However, get a few choice moments behind the wheel where you’ve connected up a couple of tight bends and it simply doesn’t matter anymore as the Focus RS bathes you in waves of comedy character. It’s boisterous fun, it sounds superb and just knows how to show you a good time.

I’m certainly going to miss its immense practicality, with its full 4 seats and massive boot space, with reversing camera, keyless ignition, pray-and-beg bluetooth and ipod connectivity, sat nav and telephone module. If I was in the market for a £25k hot hatch, there would be no contest! But I’m not. I’m in the market for a GT3 aight?

Huge thanks, meanwhile, to Perry’s Ford in Aylesbury who were cracking to deal with.

There were three cars there on view, photos below (Many thanks for the assumed permission for the photos from Layo, a user on Pistonheads). They really are quite abusive and shocking in their appearance with the GreyBlack and Red appearing the most suitable. White and red looking fantastic, but I’ve done White way too much lately with the last 997 for two and a half years.

That carbon spoiler is a work of art, though, and it is a fantastic combination of sculpted carbon and crafted alloy. All in all, the car is a sharpened tool that leaves no doubt in the mind as to its intentions and capabilities.

I managed to enjoy some good lunch with Geoff Turral, MD of Porsche Marketing GB, where we had a good head to head about Porsche’s current ordering and vetting processes which have caused me much deliberations of late. No promises were made but good headway was reached regarding my issues.

There’s no question, there has been a LOT of work gone into the recent RS with considerable effort to make the distinctions between GT3 and RS. However, there is also pressure on the driver now. If you turn up to a circuit with this, nothing else than ‘fastest’ should matter.

1) I place order for a GT3 gen2 at Porsche Reading
2) Car arrives, I’m deliriously happy – so much so, that I want to go for an RS gen2
3) I get an opportunity to take a friends order for a 1st place RS. Dealer in question agrees to the swap.
4) I decide to sell the GT3 in anticipation of the forthcoming RS. Porsche Reading make me an offer and I accept.
5) Porsche ask questions about this ‘RS’ I’ve organised. I say very little. Shortly after, a memo gets sent around to all dealers – “No order transfers are allowed”.
6) I lose my slot on the RS
7) I ask Porsche to sell me back my GT3 – they agree on the Friday. I ask for some short time to arrange finances
8) I call back Monday multiple times and email them to arrange transfer
9) Tuesday I receive email that explains car has been sold to somebody else.

This makes me sick to the teeth. I’m pretty much convinced Porsche Reading have had a hand in ensuring that this RS order got rescinded. Still, having just purchased my 3rd GT3 (only parted £90k with them a month before) I’d have expected a little common courtesty over the weekend by way of “Hi Cem, I’ve got somebody interested, do you definitely want the car back?”. Nothing.

Even now, I am sending emails to them asking for Dealer Principle names and I am being ignored.

Perhaps I should have done what any other budding opportunist would have done by way of making a massive premium on the car when I sold it. I could easily have put a £10k sticker on top.

Ugh…

Have always loved this car from launch. Even after having seen it at the Geneva motorshow for the first time, I was smitten by how ridiculously agressive the design was, from its drooping fat chin, to its over exaggerated spoiler on the boot. It was basically a charicature of the hot hatch and in no way could it be launched in concept trim!

Except it was.

I need a car to enjoy over the winter and what better way than a White Focus RS. Nearly new with 2k miles on the clock, the Focus RS is a pretty special play toy. With over 300 BHP and 325 ft/lb torque, any hard acceleration can simply be regarded as nothing other than comedy! I know for a fact that I’m going to be chewing through tyres in this car. Slam your foot down in 2nd, 3rd or even 4th and your arms suddenly start wrestling with the wheel as it tries to break free from its shackles and throw itself out the window in a glorious escape to freedom. It’s also ridiculously cheaply made. I’ve already had bits of plastic trim from the facia fall off in my hand. But then, this is a £26k car. It’s basically a Ford Focus 1.4 underneath, only with anabolic steroid abuse.

Have you ever seen such an aggressive front before?! It’s positively drunk and off its face and you look it in the eye and you’ll be guaranteed to house a bottle in your temple before the nights out.

So, agressive looks, hyperactive steering – is there anything that is vaguely normal about this car? Actually, no. Weirdly enough, it’s about 100kg heavier than the GT3, weighing in at about 1500kg. So it’s not light, but without appearing blatantly predictable, it’s actually pin sharp in delicacy and pointedness. Even in damp conditions, roundabouts are adhesive and it’s only with aggressive use of mid-corner throttle does the car look you in the face and shout ‘LOL PHYSICS’.

There’s something wonderfully endearing about owning a £25k hot hatch. With a 90k GT3, you can’t talk to people about it without them thinking you’re a wanker. The Focus RS is the Barry McGuigan of the car world, a people’s champion, not concerned about false pretences but merely tasked with getting a job done without compromise.

It’s also got a wealth of toys that put the GT3 to shame, especially given its price tag. Reversing camera, touch screen sat nav, keyless entry and go, ipod connector etc. Those seats are also pretty darn rad.

I’m at Silverstone this weekend with a bunch of others in hot hatches – the GT3’s are being left at home. This time, I don’t mind so much :)

Oh and watch this bleeding video!

Frankfurt show was huge and I must have walked at least 10 miles today, glad to have got off the plane and into home. Some truly spectacular stages were set, especially the BMW stage with its elevated circuit across the stages. Some fantastic design and use of video and audio created a wonderful motorshow experience. Some of these sets must have cost in excess of multiple millions, it shows that the car industry is not quite knocked out yet and showed how important the German market is.

Porsche GT3 RS was fabulous. In the flesh it’s looking the proper tool of function we’ve come to expect from Porsche, as you use a hammer to drive a nail in, so you use a GT3 to best circuits with. Previously, the GT3 was good enough, but this new iteration has a wealth of differences between cooking vanilla GT3 and RS to warrant my interest. I’ve got a first place position and cannot wait.
Colour is interesting, it’s called ‘Black Grey’ and is one of the four options. However, it HAS been confirmed that there WILL be colour to sample, which means a variety of different colour options. However, these will not be offered before early summertime 2010. LHD deliveries are expected to start November / December with RHD UK deliveries due February time.
The good: That spoiler is a work of art.
The bad: The cloth door pulls are really wrong.
The ugly: Clashing colour schemes?

Panamera had the most ridiculously big brakes.

Ferrari 458 looks much better up close and personal with some dramatically futuristic design cues. Very angular, very sharp – it’s a future proof design, but often they’re the kind that age quickest.

New BMW 7 series looked fantastic in white. Really loved that car and a proper highlight.

Sanity is still fighting with emotion, but for the first time in many years, the RS appears to inherit all the characteristics of the GT3 but with a key number of added wow’s.

Not an exclusive list, but:
Short ratio, short shift gearbox
15bhp +
Titanium exhaust
Wider front track
RS specific PASM suspension
Bigger wheels
Dynamic engine mounts as standard

As for looks, opinions are divided. At first I was bewildered by the choices afforded, but time has been sympathetic and now I want one pretty badly.

I’ve rang pretty much every dealer in the country and the order books are already filled. My dealer says he can get me one – but I’m looking at 5th place in the queue there. I guess it serves me right for not acting quickly when I had the chance!!

Still, here you’ll find Glenn in his 997 GT3RS (host car with camera) chasing me in my white 997 GT3. It’s a pretty good video and shows the differences between the two cars (read: none!)

I’ve really just spent the whole weekend driving it. A very addictive piece of kit. Very fast, very hardcore.
When you get into the ‘zone’, everything just fits together. Gears, steering, throttle – such awesome synergy. It really is a pleasure to drive.

And I can’t stress how good it sounds from inside. And the desire to make that noise between 6-8000rpm is so strong, you’re always in dangerous territory.
It’s also a new experience for me, driving a NA car so powerful for the first time. Slot it into any gear and just use the available low down pickup and torque.

Incredible turn in communication through the wheel too, creates an unimaginable sense of road holding and grip. Going around roundabouts are great fun, even at real low speeds, just making a sudden movement turns the whole car in without a single grumble.

Even though this car is the stripped out, track ready version of the 996, it’s still incredible well built. The doors close shut with a reassuring thud. I guess coming from a Japanese stable we have different thoughts on what’s acceptable and what’s not.

Absolutely sh1te stereo though.

I’ll be going out to drive again soon…

Cem

p.s. did I mention the noise?

For those who’ve never been, you’d think it was driving nirvana. And you’d be somewhat right. Germany has some of the most breathtaking roads in the world, combining fast autobahns with awesome mountain passes.

The reality of it does include the fantasy’s above, but there are setbacks. Traffic being the main problem, but 2 lane motorways and zero night-lighting means you have to be at the right place at the right time to put your car in its paces. The steep mountain roads can be deadly if not treated with a modicum of respect and driving through them in the rain at night can be treacherous, but insanely rewarding. The Evo 8 in our party was in its element on these roads and comfortably left everyone behind. Having a 400bhp lightweight car, powering the rear wheels with it’s engine behind the rear axle makes for potential entries to the yearly Darwin awards ‘ the GT3RS doesn’t suffer fools gladly and will consistently remind you that it IS better than you will ever be.

Most of the time, you’re looking a kilometre ahead, noting all the bunched up cars and waiting for them to pull out with no warning whatsoever. It really is an exercise of study, requiring a pre-emptive examination of the behaviour of all cars ahead of you. When you’re doing 150MPH +, you approach the rears of cars quicker than your brain tells you.
But the flip side is that any resident traffic quickly vacates the fast lane immediately after, making progress swift and painless. Still, opportunities to max out your car are frequent, but almost impossible to plan.

But this is a story of the Tortoise and the Hareâ?¦

We’ve been doing the Ring24Hr race for a number of years now and despite the great attraction of the race itself, the drive up there and back is the highlight for me. Happy to see the start of the race for a few hours and some nighttime racing, give me then a number of de-restricted roads and I’m in my own heaven.

My love of driving cars fast in Germany (I’m terrified of doing it in the UK with the fear of losing my licence being clear and concise enough motivation to keep things real) often means that our small convoy is often split up. With varying degrees of comfort and vehicle practicality, it regularly means that distances between convoy cars can sometimes span miles, requiring frequent stops and 30MPH autobahn cruises.

Thus did the conversation start after a bleary eyed dinner at the hotel with a magnificent Chateau Briand followed by a number of the local Pills beer. Opinions expressed and experiences relayed, we came to the rather obvious conclusion that our levels of performance on the road are vastly dissimilar, leading to the many convoy separations touched upon above. Where I was claiming that the party was moving too slow in the fast sections with no efforts to maintain high convoy speeds, I was backhand volleyed with comments that a healthy cruise at approximately 100MPH was more than enough to ensure good progress and fun driving. I wasn’t convinced.
Considering the next day marked our departure from fine Koblenz, plans were now afoot in organizing the ‘Whacky Racers-esque’ trip back to Calais. Convinced that I was more comfortable piling on the miles in a Gumball Rally style fashion, I exclaimed rather proudly that I’d be setting off first thing in the morning and would see everyone back in England. Auf Wiedersehen mon petit enfants.

‘I’ll be leaving at 9am sharp folks, lovely seeing you all!’

10:30am, Q strolls out of bed claiming that he’d be man enough to follow me at my pace. ‘Fine, stick with me’, I says to him ‘You’ll go far’

Oh how the young are easily fooled.

By the time everyone is fuelled up, there are 3 different parties on the road. Ian in his GT3 had petrol enough in his tank so didn’t need the fuel stop. Alex in his R33GTR was first to fill up and first to leave the forecourt, which meant I was the one waiting for the fine German specimen of a man (approximately 20 stone) to ease his un-waif like physique into his driving seat ‘ an incredible show of dexterity as it took no less than 20 minutes, by which time everyone else had at least a 20 mile head start. Not a fine way to prove a point. Doesn’t matter, I’m in a GT3RS, I’ll make up the time.

Heading out of Koblenz on the autobahn, I’m on a mission. I’ve got a point to prove and now’s not a time to be eating humble pie. I pile on the revs and aim for the horizon. 3rd, 4th, 5th and finally 6th ‘ I’m cruising at speeds of 120-150mph, Q in tow in his Evo8. The car’s proving to be more than capable at these kind of speeds, but the GT3RS is incredible. Simon and I are sitting at 150mph and I’m tuning into a radio station during a conversation. The flat 6 singing to me time after time, driving this car at anything less than 7/10’s is an exercise in reservation. But I’m unable to keep this desire to go fast in check, so I go another 20mph. I’m now sitting at between 150 and 170mph. The following Evo8, impressive looking with its xenons, is now losing breath and I see it slipping into the distance.

But, I’m now part of a team, leaving the soldiers behind is not acceptable behaviour. Oh and Q doesn’t have a map. So I’m on the slow lane at about 80 and the now familiar xenon headlamps have appeared over the brow of the hill. From 6th into 3rd I go and I bury the throttle ‘ I love this sequence, going from gear to gear full throttle, the engine sounds fab with a hot engine and exhaust ‘ the wail going operatic from 6000rpm to the 8200 redline and coupled with a final breath shove in the back. Each up shift is met with a ‘blip blip’, and then all over again.

Just as Q is catching up, a BMW 5 series cuts in behind me, blocking any line of sight I had with Q behind. Another exec saloon on a German autobahn. I’m sitting at a steady 120mph so he’s dropping back and I’m getting annoyed at the fact that I’m going to have to pull in again to wait for him to catch up [EDIT 1 - See below]. But I’m mistaken. The 5 series BMW is game for some action and he’s fast closing in on me. What the hell, let’s have some fun. I drop it into 4th gear for some singsong. Haha, that’ll teach him to mess with Stuttgart’s finest. I’m now pulling away quite confidently but I’m amused at his tenacity. That’s what I love about German drivers, they play a good game and don’t give in easily.

Then his blue lights come on.

There’s always a feeling of utter dread when faced with this situation. A million excuses start to run through your mind and you’re totally prepared to lie, cheat and steal to secure any chance of walking away scott free. ‘The dog ate my speedo’ comes immediately to mind, but the warped sense of British humour would be lost on my German hosts I feel.
Pulling over, Q drives up beside me and attempts to stop too. Discretely, I usher him to ’sod off’ and get away whilst he can, saving him from whatever outcome I’m about to face.

Stepping out of the car, I know straight away that stepping out of a GT3RS, white with bright red stickers and wheels, just aint gonna pull his sympathy strings much. No amount of butt smooching is going to work here, so out comes the Amex and I’m 365 Euros lighter of pocket. Shockingly, I was only caught at 150kph in a 100kph limit, despite the slightly more aggressive reality. Still, I was surprised at how polite and professional the officers were and in no way did I feel threatened or intimidated. I was also privy to a 10-minute lesson in German road signs.

It’s a hard pill to swallow, but I’m positive about the whole affair. We’re not angels on European roads and I’ve been over at least 10-15 times now with no police problems. So I’m happy that we’ve had a good spell and I guess I had it coming.

My passenger and I are now miles behind everyone else and despite our earlier enthusiasm, we’re now pretty keen to just cruise at a sensible speed and get home without any further Euro casualties. A quick phone call to Q confirms he is at the next service station, so, with a look of doom and gloom, we casually roll into the service station. Q has a map, which is good ‘ or is that bad? Now that we’re no longer responsible for the navigation, is the temptation too great for us to speed off again? Who knows! Stay tuned!

We pull out of the service station and start an easy cruise at 100mph towards the new motorway, E48. With zero speed restrictions. And it’s barren. And brand new. Oh dearâ?¦

RS goes into serious mode again and we’re sat at 150MPH the whole way. It really is a joy, with that lovely dual tone engine note ‘baaaaaaaaarp’ and a feeling of solidity through the steering wheel, the very design of the autobahn eradicating any potential tramlining. The road is practically empty and it’s only the odd occasion when we come up to traffic that we slow down to 120mph. Ahem. The scenery is magic too, with massive banks of coniferous trees and beautiful, gargantuan bridges that go up hundreds of feet. Typical German engineering. Its pure function makes it beautiful.

Coming over a fast sweeping bend, I’m faced with an even better sight. The longest, straightest bit of autobahn you’ve ever seen. I can’t help myself but drop a gear and nail the throttle. 5th gear goes on forever, I slick it into 6th gear at 160 and nail it again. My previous record is 185mph indicated on the Nur speedo (183 in this car) so I’m keen to hit 190mph for a new personal best.
160mph comes and goes and I look into the mirror, Q is slipping slowly away and I’m reaching for 170. 180. Q is now nowhere to be seen in my ‘Days of Thunder’ mirror, complete with shaky-cam effect. Bingo! I’ve hit 190MPH. But I’m not satisfied, plenty of room still left and I’m gunning for the big one. For a moment, I felt like Marty McFly at 88.5mph, I don’t remember anything between 190 and 200 apart from sweaty palms, millennium falcon style blurring stars and the baboon like shouting from my passenger after every incremental digit on the speedo. And then bang, it hits me ‘ 200mph on the digital read out. My heart cries out as I’ve just realised I haven’t been breathing for 60 seconds. Approaching traffic means I have to start slowing down and I’m reluctant to use the brakes, as I don’t want to turn the wheels into 4 blazing fireballs. Eventually, the wind resistance does a good job of slowing me down to 120mph, at which point it feels like we’ve stopped. Incredible. What a feeling.

After I allow some time for Q to catch up, we set out on a easy pace at 120 for a couple of hours. We make fantastic progress and despite me leaving last from the petrol station back in Koblenz, I’m convinced I’ll be first onto the channel train. A quick phone call to Alex in his 33GTR confirms that we’ve somehow managed to get 40km ahead of him. Super. But that pesky Ian in his GT3 managed to keep ahead at his almost dangerous 100mph cruising speed. I’ll get him.

Eventually, we arrive in Calais. Ian is in the vicinity and I’m keen to catch up with him. I’ve been driving with god as a passenger for 400 miles and I’m keen to get over to the UK now. But it wasn’t to be. Queuing up at the Eurotunnel booths, I’m asked for a paltry £30.00 fee to pay to get on to an earlier train. I’m trying to explain how I’ve already paid a fee on my outbound journey, which should have made it a flexible ticket, but she’s not listening and is keen to remind me of her working policy. Stubborn Cem steps into place and I refuse to pay the fee. Cue her manager.

I’m trying to be reasonable now, and I’m asking him questions as to why they change times when they see fit and when it benefits them, but when it suits me I’m charged £30 for the privilege, despite my insistence that I’ve paid the extra fee from before. I may as well be talking to a door that’s just been slammed in my face. The rear of the lane is now blocked off and Q and I are trapped in the booth entry. I’m being asked to now leave the premises. Incredible. My passenger is now trying to convince me that paying the £30 fine is probably a better bet, and curse me for being this way, as a man of principle I’m being stubborn as hell. Throughout all this, an SMS from Ian tells me he’s on a train and he hopes I have a good journey home. Hmmâ?¦

Then the police arrive. Not sure, but has anyone ever had to deal with French police? Deal being the wrong word, my passport is snatched from me and I’m ordered in no uncertain terms to move my vehicle to the side of the police control centre. Great. The weather is now scorching and we’re in full view of the entire Le Mans fraternity now. I step out of the car as I now realise we may be in a spot of bother. The policeman was a fully clothed and armed officer who made absolutely no eye contact. I was after this point in, as good as a murderer and treated as a criminal. Foolishly, I assumed that if the Police arrived, I’d be able to conduct a civil conversation based on the civility demonstrated by not only the fab British Police, but also the German counterparts who pulled me over for speeding only a few hours earlier. Meanwhile, Q drives past, shouts that he’s boarding the train and says he’ll see me later. Bye Bye Q.

20 minutes pass and I’m now getting a little worried. My passenger has been pacing the road up and down and generally curses at me for not curbing my ‘fantasy-land’ iron principles. I’m slowly starting to agree with him. With thoughts of dark dungeons and anal probes, I quickly pick up the mobile and start to dial the wife back home ‘If you don’t hear from me in 2 hours, call the consulate’ I say. ‘Oh and don’t panic’ I lieâ?¦

Just then, he walks out of the office, Robocop style ‘Monsieur, Prennez votre voiture et partez d’ici maintenant’. He’s not in the mood for a laugh. His sidekick manager friend walks over, like the monkey he is, and tells me my ticket is no longer valid on the Eurotunnel as he doesn’t want me on the train in fear of me causing more disruption. Of course, based on my violent background and string of criminal records 3 books thick, he made the kind of decision I would expect from someone who shared a brain cell with a biro.

So, we’re now kicked off the terminal, no tickets, it’s Le Mans weekend in Calais, we have a 365 euro speeding fine, I’ve got a certain amount of humble pie to eat back home and I’ve some explaining to do to the wife who probably thinks I tried to smuggle 4 kilos of pure white into the country. Certainly sounds more dramatic than ‘I didn’t want to pay the extension fee’. All in all, it’s been a bloody good day.

Just had a phone call from Alex in the GTR, he’s also just boarded the train and is about to drive off, despite some heavy handling of his car by the authorities there.

A short drive over to the Ferry port confirms a space for us in 90 mins, the same amount of time it takes the ferry to cross. So we’re now 3 hours behind schedule. The sour experience I gain from the tunnel means I savour the moments on the ferry. A superb meal and some nice coffee on the outside deck later, I’m ready to get in my car and kiss planet England.

My journey back from Dover is conducted at 80mph and I enjoy it like I’ve never driven before. It’s a beautiful day, my company was superb and I get back home for 7pm, hours after everyone else.
There’s a bleedin obvious moral to this story, but I’m too tired to come up with something witty.

This is as literal an adaptation of the tale, Tortoise and the Hare, as you can get. It was an adventure, some good, some bad, but an adventure none the less.