I've also actually not got much to say about race day itself. We basically headed straight down to our assigned seating in Stowe and stayed there all day. There was less in the way of on track action, with the final races for each of GP3, GP2, Porsche and of course F1.
I didn't take quite so many pictures, either, as from experience I tend to try to take photos on the less important days and concentrate on the actual racing on Sunday.
So here's the last batch of photos:
In between races the martial's were often out on the track, giving it a good clean.
This is the second of the GP2 races. Both the GP2 and GP3 support formulas have multiple races. They're a bit bonkers in the lower formulas - young kids with no sense of self preservation and a desire to prove themselves good enough to advance to the next level, so you get a lot of overtaking.
In years gone by there would be loads of odds and sods by way of entertainment, but not so much in later years - they tend to have the big concert at the end instead. This is Fernando Alonso going around in the first ever car entered by Ferrari, which was 60 years ago.
Alonso gave it some beans and actually got a few power slides on in the car. It's owned by Bernie Ecclestone and we were having some fun imagining what he was saying to him about driving like that when Alonso got out. Amusingly, the driver's parade actually set off without Alonso as it was straight after this.
During the race you're normally too into it to take photos, but here's a shot of a Red Bull during the actual race.
And here's one of Lewis and Alonso, I believe.
Overall it was a cracking race. We got to see some overtaking at Stowe and, as always, there's so much going on that before you know it the race is over.
We had about an hour to wander back and so hung around to watch the post race interviews on the screens, then it was back to the hotel for dinner and bed. But this time it was bed knowing we could have a nice lie-in!
Of course the holiday didn't actually stop there.
Tuesday we drove back to my Dad's and I have to confess I was rather unimpressed with my Dad. The drive up he'd been really careful and cautious, but on the drive back he drove like a loony.
Basically, I think this was due a conflation of circumstances. On the drive up it was very early in the morning, so it was dark and it was also raining horribly, plus he was totally unfamiliar with the car. On the way back it was early afternoon by the time he got behind the wheel and was now somewhat more familiar.
But also he was insistent about using the A303 on the way back. I thought this was a bad idea as it's more complicated than the motorways, but it's also a longer route and if you encounter any problems, it can easily grind to a halt. You can also easily get stuck behind a tractor or caravan.
Now that's okay if you're just doing the journey to Devon, but we would only get to the A303 having spent about 3 hours on the road already. And guess what - we got stuck because some van had broken down near Stonehenge and was blocking the road. That added the best part of an hour to our journey time. And that was after we'd had to follow some old fart pootling along on the road to get down to the A303.
And because of that and the deadline for picking his dog up from the kennels, he put his foot down. What also didn't help is that when we eventually got to Devon and went to pick up the dog, the route was all country lanes, so he's bombing around, nearly crashing into everything from fences to other cars and tractors.
I was not impressed.
And not least of all because he's insistence on going down the A303 clearly added 2 hours to the total journey time.
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