Sunday Magazine 11 October 1981
A full-scale British Grand Prix sweeping through Parliament Square with Big Ben showing a new lap record was a piece of artist Geoff Hunt’s imagination. But racing cars tearing along Park Lane at 180mph, braking hard into the sharp right-hander by the Hilton Hotel, and going flat out in fifth gear past the Serpentine— all very possible and long overdue, according to Innes Ireland, veteran of 50 world championship races
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Sebastian Vettel’s Azerbaijan podium surprised everybody. Commentators maybe remembered there had been a Formula 1 Aston Martin once, but it wasn’t on their crib sheets. They had forgotten Jim Clark. He had been contracted in 1960 to drive the overweight and clumsy Aston DBR4/250 but Colin Chapman trixied him out of it.
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John Colum Crichton-Stuart (1958-2021). Dilemma of the regal or the celebrated. Anonymity was impossible. Second fiddle to Ayrton Senna at Lotus 1986; winner at Le Mans with Jaguar in 1988. No 774 on The Sunday Times Rich List with an estimated £158 million.
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Nothing distinguished what trendy young people in my day called a “den” so much as precise, geometrical framed prints. For me it was sometimes a tramcar, an aeroplane but most usually a car. All they needed was a modest caption with title, date and maybe a few technical facts. Prints like that made a statement. Maybe they are now passé but I still treasure some; Glasgow tramcars recall my youth, aircraft like a BEA Pionair (a Dakota really) in which I made landmark flights to London. I have one of a 602 (City of Glasgow) Squadron Spitfire that flew from RAF Westhampnett, the Goodwood circuit where I covered races and drove many memorable laps.
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Motorcyclists, if they are any good, make great drivers. On a motorcycle you examine roads carefully for a surface change or a manhole cover, or a slippery patch that could send you to eternity. Nothing sharpens the mind so much as the thought of falling off. pic: Roger Cucksey Velocette
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