A buzz is in the air. Or rather a hum—the distinct sound of F1,
audible kilometres from the track. I may not be car racing’s biggest fan but I
do know the names Schumacher, Villeneuve (Gilles and Jacques), Senna. I get caught up in the F1 vortex. The road baubles are certainly shiny and eye
catching. A bright orange Lotus, pink
Ferraris (quel sacrilege!), Lamborghinis galore.
A street party is happening in front of
Jacques’ Newtown on Crescent Street.
Ferrari is hosting a party at Hotel St James, a
few doors from my home. I try to spot a
F1 driver or two. Knowing what they look like would help.
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