A Day at the Air-Races

It was reckless, totally insane, and way too much fun. It was the RedBull Air-Race and it was fantastic.

Ten magnificent men and their flying machines took to the skies and looped, spun, and soared at speeds over 250mph, reaching forces of up to 10G, through a series of 18m high inflatable gates arranged into an aerial slalom course.



Held in the pristine pastures of the eccentric Lord Bath's Longleat estate, the day promised that exquisite mix of thrills, danger and speed whilst also offering no chance of any particular harm befalling myself. A combination I'm particularly fond of. And better yet, it was free.

That's right. It didn't cost a bean, a sausage or any other foodstuff you care to mention. To be put in the draw to win tickets to the event all you had to do was register at the RedBull website. And I didn't even have to do that as a friend took care of those pesky details.

Over 100,000 people applied for tickets and after some quick calculations I reckon there were about 15,000 available. I've based this on the stated attendance of 60,000 people. So we were very jammy to have won not one, but two tickets.

RedBull did have a novel approach to the distribution of the prized tickets. You didn't win a ticket for yourself, you won a ticket for your car. You were then free to fill your car up to the legal capacity and bowl along.

So it was no great surprise when we found ourselves putting along the single lane dirt road to the parking field behind a massive LandRover crammed with shirtless youths hanging over the side drawing on fags (presumably to stop that smoky stench from polluting the smell of Mum's crisp tan leather), a bright yellow mini-van and a snow-white stretched limo.

There were plenty of parking attendants in the field and we were promptly herded into the "Green E" section, column 8. It was a smooth operation and filled me with what turned out to be misguided hope that getting out would be just as quick and easy.

After a short hike from the parking field to the actual grounds we found a spot, we picnicked and then we waited for the action. The day was all about excitement and it did not disappoint.

The aeroplane acrobatics were simply incredible. The pilots threw their little planes around the skies like madmen. The precise, accuracy of the pilots was a sight to behold as they engaged in manoeuvres like knife-edge crossings, horizontal eights, half Cuban eights and vertical rolls.

RedBull had erected huge television screens at strategic points around the grounds allowing you to get cockpit views of the action, which not only displayed the crazy skills of these guys, but also managed to induce motion sickness as from the cockpit the horizon spun wildly, disappearing from view only to reappear dangerously close to the ground before spinning 180degrees onto it's side and disappearing again.

Needless to say there were lots of "whoops" and "yeahs" and "holy shits" being emitted from the crowds. It was truly a breathtaking event.

And whilst there was no official betting it's a scientific fact that things are always more fun if money is on the line, so a few sneaky wages were placed. Unfortunately, my chosen flying ace Klaus Schrodt placed third, winning me the chance to hand over some cash to my pal Jam Davies.

But even losing to Jam couldn't detract from the spectacle of the day. It was truly great fun. Right up until it was time to leave. Then it was truly shit.

I don't know where all the parking attendants who had so competently got us parked into neat little rows had buggered of too, but there was none to be seen. At first everyone obeyed some semblance of order as neat lines began making their way to the parking fields solitary exit.

This did not last long. Things quickly dissolved into chaos as people attempted to queue jump, start new lines and push their way out of the field. Within minutes there was a full half-circle of cars surrounding the exit ramp all honking and swearing at each other.

It took two and a half hours to get out of the field. No joke. What added to the frustration was that RedBull must have realised that when thousands of people and their cars are all trying to get out at the same time, some kind of plan is needed. A much better plan than the "they'll all get out eventually" manifesto they had in place this year.