Another Coffee Please… BSB Free Practice Saturday 01/05

By the time I arrived at Oulton there was already nowhere to park and people walking down the middle of the road despite the fact there were grassy sections either side… why do people do that… Wander down the road eating ice creams whilst their kids ride around on bikes and ignore the fact that my front bumper is almost hitting their knees? I want to honk my horn really loudly so the plump woman jumps and plans her 99 on her nose, but I think better of it. After all, she could probably floor in in a single move, oh, and I don’t want to give her already strained heart a cardiac arrest.

Anyway, now that my little bitching session is over and I’m parked up and buried in my copy of the BSB programme, it’s time to check out some hot riders… I mean racing… To be honest with you, not that much happened today in terms of exciting racing… it was more a case of Matt Sayle (the photographer) and I wandering around the circuit with me begging him to teach me how to take pictures with his massive camera. It’s not as easy as it looks you know, what with having to juggle the massive lens, ‘follow the bike’ and press the button with your right hand even though you’re left-handed.

my first photo taken on a 'proper' camera
My first photo taken on a 'proper' camera

Luckily for me though, I was still carrying the camera as we crossed over the bridge at Clay Hill only to find Tommy Hill walking towards us after skidding off on his practice run out. He did not look at all happy with me as I snapped away as he walked down the steps with his leathers gaping open and blood running down his arm… but I gotta do what I gotta do Tommy, everyone wants a story. Needless to say, I think I can cross him off the list of potential husbands.

So, on a high from the excitement of pretending to be a paparazzo, we crossed the bridge and I reluctantly let Matt go and do some ‘real’ photography whilst I hung about looking pretty… It wasn’t long before two uber-chavs came over and decided they wanted to talk to me. This decision was probably fuelled by the entire crate of Stella they had seemingly downed over the course of the day and to put it bluntly, I felt sick.

I had nowhere to escape to, and the woman next to me insisted on looking down her nose at me like I was some kind of Belle Du Jour every time I turned away from the pair of them to ‘watch a bike go past’ sadly this was not the same woman I had encounter this morning on my hunt for a parking space, otherwise I would have probably done my very best to act like Belle just to spite her.

After about 30 minutes of trying to decipher what drunk and drunker were rambling on about, I made my excuses and legged it down to Knickerbrook to watch the last of the days practise sessions before heading back to the campsite for a beer, burger and a warm by the portable heater with my good friend Roger.

Lesson of the day: Pretend not to speak English when weirdos try to speak to you.

Useful Links;
British Superbikes –
Oulton Park –
Tommy Hill Official Site –
Matt Sayle Photography –

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