03 – Race Day
Grand Prix of Canada ‘07 Photo Gallery
On Sunday, we were up relatively early and hoped to have plenty of time to get to the track early when disaster struck again. It seems that after all that trouble to find a hose connect the camper to the water hookup at the campsite, the pressure from the city water caused a leak and our shoes were completely soaked. I’ve mentioned Brenda’s affinity for fashion previously but, when it comes to shoes, this seems more like an obsession. (I affectionately call her “my little Imelda Marcosâ€.) She was almost brought to tears by the sight of her silver BCBG pumps soaking wet and leaking silver and brown die onto the shoe bags she had so lovingly placed them in. Brenda swore that her fowl mood and lack of energy earlier that morning was due to telepathic messages being sent to her by shoes screaming in pain. (Yea, right…)
Needless to say, we had to spend precious time drying out but we still managed to get to the track with plenty of time to spare. Once again, the bus stop at La Ronde was relatively empty but the bus seemed to take a lot longer than usual. This gave me time to look around and catch a glimpse of a sign by the bus stop. I was a having a particularly difficult time recalling what I learned in my college French lessons (Brenda says it’s early Alzheimer’s) but I am pretty sure it said “Due to the Grand Prix, there will be no bus service to the casino on Sunday, June 10th from 1330 to 1700.” At first I thought that the bus wasn’t coming at all but, after looking at the time more closely, I realized this only applied to the return trip after the race. I shared this with Brenda who thought it made no sense and that I must be reading it wrong (surprise!). When we arrived at the casino, I asked the driver in French whether there would be bus service from the Casino that afternoon. She pointed to the sign and read it back to me so I was sure we would be walking all the way down to the station that afternoon.
I fully expected the race to be less exciting than the previous day’s qualifying. I knew that if Hamilton came ahead at turn 1, he would pull ahead and probably win. Even if there was some passing during the race, it was very unlikely to take place within our field of view. As it turned out, there were plenty of offs in turn 1 to keep us occupied and snapping away on our cameras.
One thing I learned in our first Grand Prix experience is that it is not so much about watching the race-after all, you can get a much better view of the action on TV-but it is about actually being there and participating in the spectacle. The international crowd itself provides much of the entertainment. In our section alone we had a couple from Mexico to our left, two Colombians behind us, a group of Italians sipping wine in front to our right, Scandinavians directly in front of, a group of guys from New York to our right and a large group of Latinos in front and to our right. Soon we started chatting with the Mexican couple and learned that the husband had been traveling to races for years but liked Montreal the best. The leader of Latinos in the front row began to organize a pool and recruited the Mexicans and the Colombians. The Italians later joined in. Once a price per ticket was agreed, the group drew names at random and the jokingly cried fowl when the same person drew both Alonso and Massa. We all got a good laugh out of it (even the Italians after someone translated what was going on into English.)
Another source of entertainment during the entire weekend was Alonso’s fan club. We first ran into them on Friday while returning from our failed attempt to catch the practice session. They marched in lock step, flags flying, as they chanted odes to Alonso in perfect unison. They added new elements to the procession each day until finally on Sunday the women were wearing Flamenco dresses and the men Matador costumes. One of the men had a boom box playing Alonso’s theme strapped to his backpack. The fan club marched around in the front yard during the driver’s parade and as the cars pulled out to take their place in the grid. After they had their 15 seconds of fame on the big screen, the group marched up the steps of the grandstand and took their place behind us.
Once the race started, it ended up being one of the most unusual races I’ve witnessed in my short career as an F1 fan. It all started when Alonso missed turn one in an uncharacteristic mistake similar to the one that cost him pole on the last sector of a killer lap the previous. He would go off several more times and could not seem to match Hamilton’s or even Heidfeld’s pace. The race was marked by no less than three safety car periods, one of them after Robert Kubica’s horrific crash. The talk around the stands was that Kubica was probably seriously injured or even dead. Thankfully, we later learned that Kubica was conscious and escaped relatively unscathed.
The race would turn even more bizarre as Massa was blacked flagged for leaving the pit during a red light. Alonso was penalized with a pit drive through because of a similar incident earlier in the race and fell even further behind. Alonso managed to pull ahead of Kimi after a pit stop in a brilliant bit of crew work but lost the place again after another off. By the end, Alonso’s car was so messed up by all the off-track excursions that even Takuma Sato’s Super Aguri managed to pass him much to the delight of Ferrari fans in the audience. In another incident within our field of view, one car (I think it was Trulli) slammed into the wall after just having exited the pit. When all was said and done, we witnessed Hamilton’s first victory and my man Heidfeld finished second. After the race, the fans flooded the track through suddenly open gates and broken fences.
Back at the Casino, my suspicions were confirmed as the roundabout and the road leading up to the hill were now a parking lot of tour buses packed bumper to bumper with just inches to spare. The lane leading down from the casino was closed to traffic and open to the flood of fans leaving the track. There we no taxis or buses coming or going much to the dismay of the elite pass holders getting off the little boats in front of the casino. We began the long walk back which ended up being not as painful as this route was much shorter than the way we had come the first day.
Once we crossed the bridge into Ile Saint-Helene, we were ready to keep going as we had never come this way but another fan asked us whether we planned on taking the metro or following the crowds that were leaving the island on foot. We replied that we had planned on taking the metro and he pointed the way to the station which was off the main road at the end of the bridge through some dirt paths. We inquired of some locals whether it was better to walk or take the metro and they replied, “Either way it is an hour. You either walk or you wait.†We decided to wait.
Back at the station it was pretty crowded as a whirlpool of people circled the entrance. Brenda began to dive in but I held her back while an ambulance split the crowd since I feared getting separated. Brenda is much smaller than I am and can squeeze through crowds much quicker sometimes without realizing that I cannot do the same without elbowing a few people, something I try to avoid. This led to a small argument and Brenda, wanting to avoid the whole situation, decided to ask if we could catch a cab somewhere nearby. I’ve never seen a group of cops laugh so loud or for so long. (They’re probably still laughing about it.)
We rejoined the “whirlpoolâ€, this time near the edge closer to the direction of the downtown-bound train. After all that strategizing and arguing, we were inside the station in no time and on the first train shortly after arriving on the platform. I am still amazed at how they can move so many people in such a short time! We even made it downtown with nearly an hour of shopping left for Brenda before the 5 pm Sunday closing time.
After shopping, we had dinner at a fancy French restaurant on Rue Peel, stocked up on pastries for the long drive home and said “Au revior†to Montreal. Despite some frustrations, our first Grand Prix experience ended up being a memorable one and we can’t wait to do it again.
