My blog is a testimony to this wonderful world on most days, and it is wonderful, but today here are various kinds, levels and meanings of wonderful.
Today Slovenia turns 30, and this is wonderful. On July 1st it takes over the European Union Presidency and let’s hope it goes wonderfully. In case you missed my monster post Friendly Friday Flashback: War, posted on Monday, be my guest.
Today it’s Strawberry Full Moon, and this is wonderful (except that I don’t eat for 24 hours, but this is my choice).
Last week the annual 1000 Miglia race of oldtimers passed 40 minutes from me. I witnessed this event once before, in 2015 with my parents and already took an incredible amount of photos back then, so this was a wonderful opportunity but not absolutely essential that I went again.
When I mentioned it here in a comment, not so eager to go as it was really hot, Sue replied “Oh, you lucky person!” This was wonderful because it made me pack the dog, some water and off I went.
When I sat in the car (previously moved to the shade for half an hour before departure), it showed 28 degrees C. As I was approaching Manciano, where I was to intercept the racers between their lunch in Castiglione della Pescaia and dinner in Viterbo, the temperature (outside, the car is air-conditioned) went 29 – 30 – 31 – 32 – 33 – 34 – 35 – 36 (96.8 F).
When I stopped just before Manciano to take the photo above, the heat of the tarmac hit me in the face, a snake swished to the right just where bestia moved to pee, a huge hornet was seen on a nearby bush, and it was hot hot hot hot hot. Really not all that wonderful.
Alas, I was on a mission, so I drove into town around the roundabout, guarded by the police, and then immediately it started.
You must know something about this race: they don’t close the road for it. They let you mingle among them as you wish and go on your errands, and Manciano is a busy town. You can stop anywhere (where it’s safe, of course) and take photos or cheer (I hollered and yelled Bandiera rossa). There are some closed sections of the race which are timed, this is a race after all, but mostly it’s just… well, posing.
But still, I didn’t expect what was coming from the opposite direction. I swerved into the first courtyard I saw and found the only shade I could under a tall tree, calmed bestia who was giving me his “you must be mad” look and trembling a little, since how could he have known that what was going on was wonderful and not scary? It certainly sounded like war, like bombers flying over, like tanks deploying, but what it actually was, and my timing couldn’t be more perfect, was the Ferrari tribute drive-by.
One hundred and twenty Ferraris (here is the list with details, if you’re interested) passed me by (well, I might have missed some) and I caught 62 of them on camera – so the selection above is just the crème de la crème.
It took only twenty minutes or so for all these photos. Luckily, there was the speed bump at the crossing just before they reached me, without it they would have been too fast for my camera.
As you can see, all their starting numbers come after 500 (with 501 the most beautiful and obviously oldest of the bunch, manned by a couple of Russians).
But it’s the first 500 which are the contestants proper. Later, when I moved out of town a few turns nearer Terme di Saturnia in the woods and they started coming, the shade was better, bestia could rest in the car most of the time, and in a little less than two hours I took photos of one half of them. As you will see (another time), the photos are not all that wonderful, really rather terrible, but I had a great time. How fortunate that I’m not a pro.
But the Ferraris? They are too new to compete. The Ferraris were there just for the show. Hm… moral support? Intimidation?
To show how wonderful they are.
Crisis? What crisis?
But of course, we’ve got all this oil and gas and who is going to use it if not us?
Bestia was starting to enjoy himself once he realised there was no danger, but driving home I felt nauseous from all the noxious fumes and had to have some milk. Next year, if there is still no crisis, I’m going to see where the cars are parked while the drivers have lunch.
I will not leave you with a different Wonderful World song that came to mind from 1993, sung by certain Scandinavians. Well, maybe just one stanza:
meanwhile in a suburb some fancy boulevard there's a couple in a house with a dog on guard 3 cars in the garage they keep everything inside afraid of the violence afraid to go outside money ain't funny if you're afraid to use it you grip it too hard when you're afraid to lose it working as a lawyer in some upperclass area alone at home his wife goes into hysteria a gun under her pillow too tense to relax too rich to face reality too scared to face the facts they stick to what they got and they try to make it pretty hiding from the life that's going on down in the city such a wonderful world
For Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, hosted by Amy at THE WORLD IS A BOOK…: It’s a wonderful world
This day in my blogging history