GP Press rooms sure are nice. Here's the view from table center.
(wow, got some nice real estate on the RX main page, I better get busy on this Weekend Window!)
It's 10:30pm Friday, the Bellpuig press room is ready but empty, and its pouring rain outside. I might get stuck trying to get to my hotel. Tomorrow will be a muddy practice, not much else, maybe some meetings and some news. At least the room is nice here, and the Red Bull is low carb and cold.
But, before the news, a road trip log, the longest Friday the 13th ever!
This trip to round 2 of the GPs started in Dallas, about 2am Thursday to catch up on some work. Then it was waiting out plane changes and problems getting into Newark because of storms. Michelin and I made it, Bad Billy didn't - stuck in Pittsburgh, a dump of an airport. I'm not too sure about this trip to be honest, because I have a double toothache that's spreading and acting up. Not good.
My friend Mario Marini says, hey, come on to Europe, they have a doctor to see just like Asterisk in the US. Better yet, one of the guys at Solo Moto Off-Road magazine knows a dentist, he will hook it up. Friday is just nap day anyway after the redeye.
The flight to Barcelona is a redeye like many in Europe. At least I got to sit by some rare American soccer fans that were going to Spain to spectate at a soccer game. After customs, I find Pep Segales from Solo Moto waiting for me, who I remember meeting in press at Daytona a few years ago. He's going to take me into Barcelona after a redeye, and go right to a dentist!
If you are used to fancy American medical offices and their long waits and big bills and weak "take this and call us" approach, this is not that. The office is humble, just one room for the dentist and assistant, and you wait in a real hallway! I'm thinking, "what did I get myself into?" OK, I'm good, these people are not going to dig around in there. They are just going to give me some killer pill to make my weekend nice, and I can worry about it later.
So I thought.
"Wow, 2 molars really need to come out."
"Doh!"
Pep got 3 implants done at this office, and he says go for it. To make a long story short, they see my hesitation and the dentist, a very attractive young lady, pumps me full of shots and says go have coffee and come back in 20 minutes and you won't feel anything. So, after spilling cafe con leche on me since I can't feel it anything, I'm ready.
By the time the pulling starts, it's noon and my Friday the 13th is already pretty long. These people are not timid about going to work once it starts, the tools are out. It went quite well actually, much easier than expected, except the last two bits. This is a very informal office, and Pep stays and sits in, and they don't mind. At one point I'm looking up at a big light and two faces with masks, and the one with the grinder is getting frustrated. The last bit doesn't want to grind.
"You have a small mouth and a big molar," she said. Now she's putting her weight into it a little bit, and it doesn't hurt at all, just taking a while. In the light I see little tooth pieces flying and its grind grind grind. Everyone in the room is laughing that its taking this long. I feel like a 2-stroke cylinder on a tuner's workbench.
"Haha, now I have American molars for my collection!"
Finally it's all good, and I walk out of the pharmacy across the street with three things, one some strange fluid in a tiny glass bottle you break the end off and drink.
Pep from Solo Moto really went out of his way to make this work. Who else would pick a near stranger up at an airport and walk them through a dentist and pharmacy? We get out of there about 1, and, its just half over.
Now I need to get a rental car and find the hotel and the track, about an hour away, and its going on a full 24 hrs.
I turn down the Mercedes and get a diesel go-cart, about like they use in France. Hertz doesn't have any maps, so I dig around and find something and take off, with cotton in cheeks, who knows what chemicals buzzing around and I'm in Spain, and it's still Friday the 13th, and I don't even know if I can follow the street signs!
The hotel is pretty cool, a little old-school Europe, where everyone eats at the same time, and the internet is terrible. To get on line, its back to dialup. That would be OK but the chair in the room was made for kids, and it broke. (I shouldn't admit that)
I want to post something and sleep, and Mario is "Hey, the press room is 5 min away, get over here." OK, I'll sleep tomorrow. I drive over to the track about dark and we raid the nice Italian restaurant in the pits.
So after a lot of eating and talking, its back to press where there is good internet!
It's been raining steady since this blog entry started, so I have about 30 min of Friday the 13th left to get out of here. I've been up 2 days, had 2 teeth out, and drove across Spain, and made some new friends. I'm still amazing how well I got treated today, even when I was probably not myself much at all.
BTW-when you see visitors at the races in the US, treat them right.
Tomorrow is day 1, Bellpuig GP!
Everts new office.
