I have very little interest in cars, seeing them more as method of transport than as a way of displaying my 'identity' to others, so, this weekend I felt a bit like how a gay man must feel in a lapdancing club, as through a random chain of events involving free tickets, I found myself attending the Goodwood Festival of Speed.

I went with an open mind - what I encountered was a load of (admittedly very pretty) classic cars parked around for you to look at; a load of
very very ugly and vulgar modern 'supercars'
parked around for small boys, thickos and arabs to look at; and the occasional earsplitting howl of some noisy racing thing whizzing past on the adjacent track. After about an hour I seemed to have exhausted the 'looking at cars' option, and I certainly wasn't going to watch noisy things going round on the track, so instead I had a pimms and then sauntered home. Loathe as I am to admit it, I think I actually enjoyed looking at the cars. Not hearing them though - I don't quite understand my fellow man's appreciation of a shrieking engine

The other people there were a fairly strange bunch, and the geek level was high - there were probably more white-sock/ sandal combos evident than is strictly safe in a confined space.