Sunday 17th July
Sunrise and with slightly sore heads the Rub a Dub Dub team donned their garish suits and made their way into the paddock ready for a lap round the famous Goodwood circuit. We were then treated to some traditional Mongolian wrestling in which competitors appear to wear little more than an oversized thong, presumably to minimise any shirt pulling in the box. After several intense rounds observing overweight men swing their tackle about, “Village Falcon”, the people’s champion, was handed victory. A mini awards ceremony was then held to crown the “spirit of the rally” and the “no hoper” who this year was presented to a 1979 3-wheeler with no roof and no reverse gear. Good luck! The party piece was the “wiener award” which was given to an American team driving a 3L turbo charged car. In true Mongol Rally style, they were shamed for their lack of ambition and forced to carry a traffic cone all the way to Mongolia. After the obligatory team photo, 315 cars and 20 bikes revved into life to the deafening cacophony of novelty air horns and ambulance sirens.
Sunrise and with slightly sore heads the Rub a Dub Dub team donned their garish suits and made their way into the paddock ready for a lap round the famous Goodwood circuit. We were then treated to some traditional Mongolian wrestling in which competitors appear to wear little more than an oversized thong, presumably to minimise any shirt pulling in the box. After several intense rounds observing overweight men swing their tackle about, “Village Falcon”, the people’s champion, was handed victory. A mini awards ceremony was then held to crown the “spirit of the rally” and the “no hoper” who this year was presented to a 1979 3-wheeler with no roof and no reverse gear. Good luck! The party piece was the “wiener award” which was given to an American team driving a 3L turbo charged car. In true Mongol Rally style, they were shamed for their lack of ambition and forced to carry a traffic cone all the way to Mongolia. After the obligatory team photo, 315 cars and 20 bikes revved into life to the deafening cacophony of novelty air horns and ambulance sirens.
Once lined up on the starting grid, the
announcer gave us his last words of wisdom – “I hope you have the worst time
and break down loads” – to which everyone cheered. One might think that taking
it “steady” around the track was a good idea to ease yourself in gently, however
this was not the case. Cars were tearing round Goodwood, up the banks, on the
grass, smashing all the apexes. 900 nutters driving their nan’s car around a
racing track as fast as they could, and we absolutely loved it!
For the rub-a-dub-dub team it was a slightly hollow send-off as we
had to stay another day in the UK to pick up our Iranian visas from the embassy
- not the best start! As we waved off our families it was more of a case of
“we’ll see you for lunch” rather than “see you in 10 weeks”! Nevertheless, on
the Monday we picked up the visas and headed for Dover to catch up with the
convoy.
Posted by: Rich
Posted by: Rich