Wednesday, 19 June 2013

Top Gear Festival 2013

A thousand apologies for I have been dealing with incredible writers block and haven't written in so long. Also a word of caution, it seems that my new writing voice is incredibly self indulgent - you have been warned! Also all images and videos are courtesy of Yashen Moodley. 

Yup
Does anyone else remember last year’s Top Gear Festival? I do. I remember lots of guidos fighting; I remember plastic cups of black label, the smell of petrol fumes and dust so thick it made a line on my teeth where they stick out from beneath my goofy smile. I said to myself: “Not this time girl – you have come too far to be picking miggies out of your mouth.”  So this year I went as a guest of Shell. Oh friends what a delight it is to experience the VIP hospitality that is Shell at Top Gear. Let me count the ways ...

Because walking is so Top Gear 2012.

My colleagues and I got escorted to the media centre at the Moses Mabhida stadium. This is critical information because what I am saying is that we did not have to queue – I hate a queue. We got our media passes and from there the world of Top Gear was ours. All access, free food ... the only problem is that once you get a taste of VIP – Oh friends you cannot enjoy Top Gear without it.

We made our first stop at the Shell stand where I got to sit in an F1 car simulator as well as change an F1 racing car tyre. I was told that it takes the pros 5seconds to change the tyres and refuel an F1 car. It took me around 14 seconds to just pick up the heavy drill. I was the model for the day so I got to do some fun things of the girl’s - day - out - at - Top Gear variety. I think it was pretty amusing for my colleagues because I can barely drive. I was shown some sort of special car that had travelled Siberia and was told by Shell to point to the oil thingy for a picture. So embarrassing, I don’t even know where one places their car oil. The man had to show me, eventually placing his hands on the oil thingy because I don’t understand where “next to the engine” is!

Is it there?

They had the sexiest Greek men working for them; I guess it is the equivalent of eye-candy for bitches. Unfortunately for me these men where all business –there was no time for silly girls who don’t know car things. I had to do a small video and pretend that I had raced a circuit and they acted like it was their worst day ever. The video below is an example for you taken just before we made the official video. Look how angry this man looks, and look at me trying so hard – bless. Back in my youth the men used to check out my rack, now he looks like he is having the worst day of his life (I learned later that he was in fact dating the other sexy Greek man)



After that humiliation, Yashen, my wonderful colleague, and I went and hung out in some VIP car place. I don’t know cars, but I do love a shiny new beast of a machine and I have a weakness for Audi’s. So whilst Yashen gushed over something called a Bumblebee and something else with numbers and Z’s in it, I sat sipping my champagne staring at my Audi.  There is something wonderful about lounging on a chaise sipping Champaign and eating strawberries whilst the general public looks on from behind the velvet ropes and bouncers – and there was a pianist!

Sorry dahling ...

Ok, so I am milking this VIP thing and you are probably puking by now, so let me move on. We got escorted to the Shell hospitality suite in the stadium where we were greeted with a table full of beers. Yashen and I caught up with our Motoring Editor at the bar. He was on his fourth cider. We were called a bunch of pussies for not being drunk. “When I was a cub reporter we would be laying in a pool of our own vomit before this thing even started. Free drinks – you are a disgrace”. Well forgive me but I thought this was a work outing ... However, so as not to disappoint anyone I ordered a nice glass of merlot and headed into the VIP suite. Ladies and gentlemen – how will I ever enjoy the stadium again? Those suites have the best view, there was a private bar, and there was Lasagne for Christ sakes! It was as if Top Gear had just said “Crumbles - let’s make this girl happy”, and so they did.

The show was cool, there were cars, and babes and jokes about Oscar Pistorious (perhaps too soon). I was happy because I had done some really fun things and all it cost me was 200 words.

Can I have this one?