Hols!
Let's see if I can remember how to do this...
Just come back from a lovely relaxing holiday. Last time we went on holiday it was horsie related and a long time ago, 2002. We accidentally came back with two horses. This time we went to stay in a stately home and play with classic racing cars. Sadly, this time we came back with neither of those...
Despite Piceur's best efforts to kill herself 36 hours before we left we managed to get the horses and cats sorted out and left, somewhat belatedly, to head over to my parents' house to pick up my mum's shiny MGB, since that seemed a better thing to travel in than a ratty old Citroen van.
We arrived at the hotel late and tired (having failed to take the motorway to get clear of the hideousness that is the lands west of London), and so didn't see the lovely exterior until the next day. The interior was very pleasant, and our suite had 15' ceilings, our own corridor, and a four poster bed, which was nice.
The view from our window, over the formal gardens and across to the deer park and Picturesque Sheep:
The hotel, Thoresby Hall, from the front (our room was the one with the oriel window above the front door):
The side is equally pretty:
Up far too early the next day we breakfasted on sausages in the wine cellar and headed over to Prestwold race track, based on the WWII Wymeswold Airfield. We'd signed up for a "classic car experience" as part of the hotel deal. After a quick safely briefing DVD (mostly aimed at the people going to the race track for a non-classic experience and which roughly translated as "please don't spin our nice Ferraris into the bushes you horrible spotty oiks or we won't let you drive again") we got taken out in groups of three for a quick tour around the track in a MkII Jaguar so that one of the instructors could point out the breaking points and entry/apex/exit cones.
Then it got scary. A Series 2 E-type is a bit of a squeeze when you've got a crash helmet on, the bonnet heads off somewhere the other side of the horizon in front of you, and you can see something large and shiny jiggling away through the air vents. Very loud and scary. It felt rather like a big powerful MGB that wasn't hugely stuck to the road. Two laps and I don't think I even managed to get above 80. Much jibbering with adrenaline when I got back in.
After waiting for the rest of the attendees (of which Cheryle and I were the only ones younger than the cars...) to finish their first laps I went out in an Aston Martin DB6. This went much better, not sure if this was due to less nerves having already been out on the track or better handling.
Zoom zoom:
Coming back into the pits past one of the more modern cars there (what a shame it wasn't a Vantage passing when this photo was taken):
While waiting for my last drive out on the track I got to go (as a passenger) out in a Le Mans Corvette, an enormous American thing that was indecently quick. 500+bhp meant that its 0-140mph time was quite respectable.
Finally, out in a Jaguar MkII. This was rather different to the others and felt very genteel, the instructor had to remind me to accellerate when I pulled out onto the track, it felt far too respectable to be doing something as grubby as racing... In the right hands (ie. not mine) this car was very quick, with Cheryle as a passenger and the instructor driving they overtook a modern Ferrari round one of the corners...
Sunday was far more relaxing, we took meandering walks around the Hall's park and had several bouts of Afternoon Tea with Scones in the Great Hall. All very pleasant. A spot of exploring around the hotel revealed several sets of Back Stairs, the designers of the Hall went to great lengths to make sure that the owners never had to see the staff unnecessarily...
Deer in the deer park:
The great hall, from above:
The hammer beam roof of the hall:
The staff and utility buildings stretching off into the distance:
The stables(!):
Far too soon we had to head back to reality, deferring it as long as possible by zigzagging the MG back down the country in order to avoid having to drive through any towns (and in order to drive through the splendidly named Sheepy Magna and Sheepy Parva (more villages should have ovine-derived names)).
And now back to work (where I'm spending a year as a civil engineer for tax reasons).
Just come back from a lovely relaxing holiday. Last time we went on holiday it was horsie related and a long time ago, 2002. We accidentally came back with two horses. This time we went to stay in a stately home and play with classic racing cars. Sadly, this time we came back with neither of those...
Despite Piceur's best efforts to kill herself 36 hours before we left we managed to get the horses and cats sorted out and left, somewhat belatedly, to head over to my parents' house to pick up my mum's shiny MGB, since that seemed a better thing to travel in than a ratty old Citroen van.
We arrived at the hotel late and tired (having failed to take the motorway to get clear of the hideousness that is the lands west of London), and so didn't see the lovely exterior until the next day. The interior was very pleasant, and our suite had 15' ceilings, our own corridor, and a four poster bed, which was nice.
The view from our window, over the formal gardens and across to the deer park and Picturesque Sheep:
The hotel, Thoresby Hall, from the front (our room was the one with the oriel window above the front door):
The side is equally pretty:
Up far too early the next day we breakfasted on sausages in the wine cellar and headed over to Prestwold race track, based on the WWII Wymeswold Airfield. We'd signed up for a "classic car experience" as part of the hotel deal. After a quick safely briefing DVD (mostly aimed at the people going to the race track for a non-classic experience and which roughly translated as "please don't spin our nice Ferraris into the bushes you horrible spotty oiks or we won't let you drive again") we got taken out in groups of three for a quick tour around the track in a MkII Jaguar so that one of the instructors could point out the breaking points and entry/apex/exit cones.
Then it got scary. A Series 2 E-type is a bit of a squeeze when you've got a crash helmet on, the bonnet heads off somewhere the other side of the horizon in front of you, and you can see something large and shiny jiggling away through the air vents. Very loud and scary. It felt rather like a big powerful MGB that wasn't hugely stuck to the road. Two laps and I don't think I even managed to get above 80. Much jibbering with adrenaline when I got back in.
After waiting for the rest of the attendees (of which Cheryle and I were the only ones younger than the cars...) to finish their first laps I went out in an Aston Martin DB6. This went much better, not sure if this was due to less nerves having already been out on the track or better handling.
Zoom zoom:
Coming back into the pits past one of the more modern cars there (what a shame it wasn't a Vantage passing when this photo was taken):
While waiting for my last drive out on the track I got to go (as a passenger) out in a Le Mans Corvette, an enormous American thing that was indecently quick. 500+bhp meant that its 0-140mph time was quite respectable.
Finally, out in a Jaguar MkII. This was rather different to the others and felt very genteel, the instructor had to remind me to accellerate when I pulled out onto the track, it felt far too respectable to be doing something as grubby as racing... In the right hands (ie. not mine) this car was very quick, with Cheryle as a passenger and the instructor driving they overtook a modern Ferrari round one of the corners...
Sunday was far more relaxing, we took meandering walks around the Hall's park and had several bouts of Afternoon Tea with Scones in the Great Hall. All very pleasant. A spot of exploring around the hotel revealed several sets of Back Stairs, the designers of the Hall went to great lengths to make sure that the owners never had to see the staff unnecessarily...
Deer in the deer park:
The great hall, from above:
The hammer beam roof of the hall:
The staff and utility buildings stretching off into the distance:
The stables(!):
Far too soon we had to head back to reality, deferring it as long as possible by zigzagging the MG back down the country in order to avoid having to drive through any towns (and in order to drive through the splendidly named Sheepy Magna and Sheepy Parva (more villages should have ovine-derived names)).
And now back to work (where I'm spending a year as a civil engineer for tax reasons).