The alarm blared at 04:30 and I didn't know where I was. "When did we get a get a ceiling fan? Did we change the drapes?" At least I recognize the clothes on that sofa in the corner but what sofa is that?" Oh, right! I'm at the cheapest hotel I could find within walking distance to Copenhagen Airport — and I'm headed to France for work and I've got a plane to catch.
My first stop en route to Circuit Paul Ricard was Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris where I would sit on my ass for nearly four hours before departing on a connecting flight (is it really "connecting" when the flights are so far apart?) towards Marseille. It had been 15 years or so since I last visited France so I reckoned a refresher on what a proper french baguette tastes like was due, but that turned out to be a disappointment wrapped up in cellophane.
Look closer
Closer...
There!
The GT4 Scandinavia entourage had arrived to Marseille on an earlier flight and we had a short rendezvous on the parking lot outside of the airport by the car rental company before we headed our way. After an hours drive through a shit-show of traffic out of Marseille we got to the countryside and passed vineyard after vineyard.
Eventually we reached the serpentine road leading up to the plateau where the track is situated. Hairpin, 100 meters straight, another hairpin and another 100 meters going straight before the next hairpin. It went on for thirty minutes and along every other corner there were flowers, crosses and keepsakes for the fallen that was a somber reminder that the scenery was every bit as treacherous as it was beautiful.
