02 – Qualifying
Grand Prix of Canada ‘07 Photo Gallery
We didn’t arrive back at the camper until after 10 pm on Friday completely exhausted. The next morning we got up before 9 am and quickly began to get ready. I figured we should be at the track 2 hours before qualifying, which was scheduled for 1 pm. (I made sure to recheck the schedule several times after having missed practice the previous day.) We had an errand to run before heading to the track so I was eager to leave by 10 am.
This was the first time we had used the trailer this season and have had a bit of trouble getting it ready. First, the tongue jack froze late last season and, even though we got it replaced under warranty, the caster wheel that goes on the end wasn’t there when I received the new part in the mail. Thinking that it would be less hassle to buy a new wheel, I didn’t bother with it until the same week we were due to leave when I discovered that the wheel was an odd size and I could not find a replacement within a 100-mile radius.
Additionally, the hose that feeds water into the sink broke and I had some trouble finding one that would fit. We though we had the issue worked out until we stopped at Albany on the way to Montreal and the pump that pressurizes the water system stopped working. At the campsite, we had full hookups but were missing the hose to connect the camper to the water spigot as the old one had gotten all moldy during the winter. It was becoming a pain to have to go to the bathhouse every time we needed water so I decided to buy a new hose.
The store at the campsite didn’t have that many camper parts unlike most KOAs in the US but the attendant gave me a map to a nearby RV-supply store. She pointed to the place on the map and said I could use the back roads to get there. I should have known better! The “back roads” didn’t seem to have any relation to what was printed on the map and, after half an hour of driving around, we decided to take the main road. The main road didn’t match the map either but at least we knew we were going the right way. All this time wasting only served to remind me of the previous day’s debacle as well as all my back luck with the camper the previous week. I was in a fowl mood. Our second day of Grand Prix weekend wasn’t off to a great start and we weren’t even at the track yet.
We arrived at Longueuil just after 11 am and went straight to the parking lot from the day before. This time the parking seemed to be filling up more quickly than the previous day so we were glad to be there early. We had come prepared as for a long hike in the woods. I was carrying my LowePro camera backpack full of water, sandwiches, binoculars, sodas, earplugs and some pastries we had bought the day before. Since our video camera had broke just before the trip (I know, more bad luck), we took out the divisions on the camera compartment and used it as a cooler for several water bottles. This worked out well and we had plenty of cool water for the entire day. Brenda also brought an umbrella to shield her from the sun on the walk to the stands that also came in handy for fending off the crowds afterwards. I neglected to wear sunscreen for the qualifying and ended up getting a rather-itchy “farmer’s tan” but just in my forearms and a spot in just above my knees as I was crouching in the stands the entire time.
Just out of the metro, Brenda spotted La Ronde bus stop and this time we did see the arrow pointing to the entrance “closer” to Tribune 12. Once again, the bus stop was remarkably empty except for a group of seniors nervously waiting to go play the slots. After a quick pit stop at the casino, we were at the stands almost an hour before qualifying was due to start. What a difference a day makes!
As we took our seats I discovered that the view wasn’t as great as I had hoped. We could only see the first chicane and the pit lane exit. The map of the track on the Grand Prix of Canada website makes it seem like you can look down the front straightaway and into pit lane from 12 but the elite suites block much of the view to the right. The best view is probably from grandstands 1 and 2 (the most expensive ones) or the rightmost sections of grandstand 11. For general admission, if you get there early enough, you can set up in front of grandstand 11 and get a great view; however, there was a lot trash there on Saturday and Sunday and many birds hovering around picking at the trash, which made it a rather unpleasant place to be. I am not sure if I would buy grandstand tickets the next time. They are expensive, crowded, there’s no shade and you may not get the best view but it is nice to have a guaranteed place to seat in case you cannot get there early enough. In the end, the seats were not that bad as a lot of the action took place right in front of us. There was also a big screen nearby so we could clearly be see the standings and on board shots. People at the f1weekly message boards recommended renting a kangaroo TV monitor but I never saw where they had them nor felt I needed one with the big screen so close.
Qualifying was exciting as always. There was a nice battle between Alonso and Hamilton for pole with Hamilton emerging victorious. The Ferraris could not keep up and Heidfield ended up in the second row on the BMW, which is probably my favorite F1 car. (I root for McLaurent too and Renault occasionally but own only BMW gear so I guess they are “my” team.) It was shaping up to be an interesting race with the BMWs placing well and the possibility of a Hamilton first victory looming.
After quali, we joined the crowds once again as everyone wanted to get over the bridge at the same time. Once outside the bridge, we walked back to the casino where, once again, bus 187 was relatively empty. The metro was crowded but the cops did a great job of crowd control while one officer kept everyone in good spirits with comedic high jinks. We were on the yellow line in no time. This time we jumped over to the orange line at Berri-UQAM and headed for Mont Royal to check out the view from the top and the other festival scene at La Main also known as Boulevard Saint Laurent.
We emerged into a much more serene environment at Mt. Royal station. Another excellent tip we had picked up at the Casino’s information center was to take bus #11 up the mountain for a great view of the city. We sat down at the park for a few minutes while I tried to orient myself and see if I could figure out where the bus stop was. I finally identified the direction we need to take towards La Main but there was no sign of the bus so we started to walk when we saw some tents in the middle of the street a few blocks up from the station. I knew this wasn’t the direction toward La Main but I think Brenda didn’t believe I knew where I was going (or maybe she could sense there was shopping to be done that way) so we ended up going towards the tents.
Once there we saw it was an open-air market but Brenda was disappointed since it looked more like crafts and funky clothing. (She is more a high-fashion kind of gal and not very much into shabby-chick much to our bank account’s detriment. I guess I should not complain as I am more a BMW and Boston Whaler kind of a guy than Honda and Bayliner.) We did find a great little bakery where they sold the “cutest”-Brenda’s word not mine-and most delicious cup capes. She’s been going through a cup cake phase and was delighted to find the place, although we were able to exercise restraint and order just one cake for the two of us.
We began walking towards where I knew we would find La Main, when the #11 bus stopped nearby. Brenda decided we should get on (I was starting to get the feeling she really didn’t want to get to La Main). I reluctantly agreed despite not being sure if we were taking the bus in the right direction. We tend to avoid buses in favor of trains during our travels because they are less “user friendly” as their routes are frequently more difficult to figure out. To make matters worse, you must push the button for the driver to stop so you have to know ahead of time which is your stop or you may miss it. In some cities, however, buses are an integral part of the transportation system and one must jump in knowing full well that it could lead to hassle and embarrassment.
As we sat near the back of the bus, we could overhear the conversation of some Hispanic youths who sat nearby. They were discussing where they should get off to go to the park, which is they very thing we were wondering. They finally resolved to get off at a large green field near the base of the mountain but, since the bus hadn’t climbed very much at all, we figured this couldn’t be the viewing area. The bus climbed half-way up the mountain and stopped near a parking lot and viewing area. We thought this had to be the place and got off.
We snapped our pictures of the awe-inspiring 180-degree view of the city and began to wonder if it was worth climbing up some more. Perhaps there was an even awsomer view further up. As we pondered this, the bus coming down the mountain came and went so we decided to go ahead and stand on the bus stop at the opposite side of the street. We waited for what seemed to be a really long time while I tried unsuccessfully to figure out the bus route. As we waited, we marveled in disbelief at the bikers struggling up the insanely steep mountain and those speeding down the other side.
The bus finally came and we climbed on. As it turned out, the top of the mountain wasn’t very far away and, no, there wasn’t a better view up there. The only highlight of the long trip down the rest of bus #11’s route was the large Notre-Dame-des-Nieges cemetery. The rest were just austere-looking apartment blocks followed by a long wait at the end of the line. On the way down, the topic of discussion was: “Where should we get off so we are as close as possible to La Main?” I managed to identify our position on the map and figure out the bus’ approximate route down Mt. Royal Street. The only other question was “How long do we wait to push the button?” Luckily, there was a stop right at Boulevard St. Laurent and another passenger pushed the button for us, so our patience paid off.
We strolled down La Main all the way to Sherbrooke. Left and right there were stalls offering everything from messages to surf clothing to remote control cars. For the first few blocks the street were lined with highest concentration of contemporary furniture stores we have ever seen in one place. (Where we live, you would be hard pressed to find anything that is not traditional or country in any furniture shop.) Further down there were a few funky boutiques selling dresses from local designers and some sidewalk cafés and restaurants. At one restaurant near Sherbrooke, the outside terrace was packed to capacity with boisterous parties of thirty-somethings who strutted and danced to 70’s disco as diners in the more sedate establishments nearby gawked at the spectacle. In front of one store called Himalaya, they were playing Caribbean Reggaetón music for some reason. There were Capoeira exhibitions and, in one park near the middle that was lined with tables selling art and posters advocating everything from “Free Tibet” to “Spade/Nutter your Pets”, a soloist played acoustic rock upon a stage. Interspersed among it all, were vintage and custom car exhibitions although the machines were nowhere as rare or impressive as those in Crescent Street.
The whole scene was just a little too Bohemian for us, so we headed back downtown to see if I could find the Formula 1 store and buy some gear for the race the next day.
Back on Crescent Street, things were more chaotic than ever. There were even more booths and now there was even more stuff on display in the blocks behind the main stage such as a Canadian Army Mercedes Benz armored vehicle. We looked around for the Formula 1 shop but missed on the way up and initially on the way down as it was hidden on the basement of another shop. When we finally found it, I was at first disappointed about how small it was but when I started browsing through all the models and gear I was overwhelmed. It was just too hard to make up my mind.
I guess I should comment at this point on the prices for Formula 1 gear. Down at the track, you would pay $50 for a hat and $75 for a T-shirt. This seems to be pretty standard for genuine Formula 1 gear everywhere we went as well as on the Internet. In my opinion, the coolest stuff by far was the McLaren stuff made by Hugo Boss (which just happens to be my favorite designer even if I can only buy their stuff at the outlet and even then it’s like, “ouch!”); however, you could pay $75 for a hat and over $100 for a T-Shirt. There was no way I was going to pay that much for stuff that could get ruined the next day by my own or someone else clumsiness with the snacks. For BMW and Ferrari stuff (sometimes Renault) the Puma outlet stores sometimes have good deals even though their stuff it not cheap either. Judging by the amount of gear everyone was wearing, I think that the marketers had correct guessed the amount of money that fans were willing to pay for cool F1 stuff.
We asked how late the store was open and the response astoundingly was, “2 in the morning.” “We turn into a nightclub after dark,” the attendant explained. We left the store and walked over to a Lebanese restaurant next door to think it over. Inside, the place wasn’t that crowded but there was a long line that didn’t seem to move at all. Next to meet stood a lady that seemed unable to understand the concept that the combo cost $6.75 and came with potatoes and pita sandwich while the sandwich by itself was $4. Even after I finally got my food, I had to stand there while the owner argued with her in French about the price and what was included.
Back at F1 Emporium, I finally decided on a Nick Heidfeld BMW commemorative hat and model car. Not that I am a huge Heidfeld fan but the cars are made each year at the end of the season and most of my other favorite teams and drivers had changed since the end of last season. Also, I hoped my investment would bring Nick good luck as he was the best placed BMW. After that we tired and fed up with the crowds so we went back to the trailer to rest and prepare for the next day. (I know; we’re party animals.)
Grand Prix of Canada ‘07 Photo Gallery
Next Page: 03 – Race Day
