Silverstone Classic is incredible. A three-day celebration of everything a big kid (like me) could want: fast and very loud cars, stunt bikes, fighter planes, and erm… shopping.
But what I love most about it is the inclusivity of the event; this is no millionaire boys’ club, segregated according to the number of passes dangling from your tweed jacket, and you’ll very rarely – if ever – see a no entry sign.
At Silverstone Classic, ordinary punters (like me) can get up close and personal with seven-figure classics without the need for a peerage or a Swiss bank account.
So I did. And here are the photos.
According to the pedometer on my phone (and the state of my poor old tootsies afterwards), I walked over 14 miles that day. And yet I barely scratched the surface of things to see. I can’t wait for next year’s event.
If you’d like a print of any of the above photos, contact me for details.