The one guy had a Licence to Kill. I’ve got one for the racetrack. Part 2: Taxi rides, parts hunts, and electricity on instalments

    A few hours earlier — Friday morning. Sitting in a taxi on the way to the track felt like some parallel universe. I was technically heading for a racing licence — something that should smell like control, precision, and “I’ve got my life sorted”. And yet there I was in the back of a taxi, while my own car was six kilometres away, parked up somewhere, probably having a quiet little pity party. The road to Poznań was harmless. The taxi was warm, quiet, reliable. I realised my body was reacting to every normal bit of acceleration like it didn’t trust it — as if it was asking: “Hang on… so it can move without drama?” I leaned my head against the window and stared out, and somewhere between exhaustion and adrenaline an annoying thought popped up: maybe today would actually be… easy. Luckily, day one was theory. No car needed. No starting. No chasing volts. No praying for 14. Just a classroom, rules, flags, behaviour, safety — all the stuff that makes motorsport feel like...

Le Mans 2018

 

                                 

A Holiday with Far Too Many Decibels

It was supposed to be a relaxed little holiday.
An old Mercedes, the Loire, and then on to Le Mans.

Instead, it turned into a trip of absolute contrasts: on one side, the old châteaux —
sleepy parks, manicured down to the last blade of grass,
the scent of herbs, flowers, history, and silence.

And then… Le Mans.
Loud. Roaring. Moving day and night.

It smells of oil, petrol, and burnt rubber.
Nothing is quiet here.
Here, the moment matters — and every second.

Even here, so much is planned, prepared, organised down to the minute.
But a racetrack isn’t a garden. It isn’t a park.

This is where people and machines reach their limits —
and sometimes go a little beyond.

Then it happens.
A bang. Something breaks.

But that doesn’t mean the end.

You wrench, you improvise, you repair, you patch things back together —
a fight against the clock.
More chaos. More stress.
And everywhere: adrenaline in the air.

To be continued soon. 

                                    

                                    

                                    

                                    

                                    

                                    

                                    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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