SPAIN, FRANCE…AND BELGIUM – 2026.
Quick reads.
10,000 words.
This newsletter comes in at about 10,000 words. I tried, but I couldn’t find 100 words I didn’t want to share. If 10,000 words is too much for you, then you have my permission to skim. We good?
Everybody is different.
That’s why they have so many brands of peanut butter on a grocery store shelf.
For me, I don’t know how I could have lived and enjoyed my retirement without constantly traveling. Yes, I know that very few people do that, especially in retirement.
This month I’ve got Europe and South Africa. In May, it’s China with Carol. June brings Argentina, and July follows with Scandinavia, again with Carol. After that, there will be a lot more jet-setting.
I’ve got feelers out to some very unique places all over the world for my trackchasing. This is a lot like fishing. You never really know what you’re going to catch, but you just keep your hook in the water and see what happens.
No chores; no way.
I can do this because I don’t do chores at home. I can do this because, although Carol says she doesn’t like doing chores, I think she really does. If she can’t do the chores, I will hire somebody.
Randy saves the day.
Last night, the refrigerator started leaking water onto the floor. I quickly used Yelp to get a repairman to come over, and for a $99 service fee, the problem was fixed in 20 minutes. I guess I do do chores. I checked Yelp, didn’t I?
Tesla? No!
The repair guy was from Israel. Soon after asking me a series of questions, he dubbed me a “car guy.” I’m not, really. He was shocked that I drove a Tesla. He told me I needed to drive something that was much louder. No, thank you. I have watched too many 1985 Pontiac GTOs sounding louder than a jet plane but struggling to get to 60 mph in 10 seconds. I will stick with my Tesla. Is it fast? Carol is a church-going girl. However, when I hit the go pedal without her expecting it, I know Carol is going to spout a string of expletives every time!
Wanna go, Carol?
Oh yeah, you should know that Carol is invited on every trip. However, like some of you, she thinks I’m crazy. She doesn’t want to be THAT crazy, so she only goes on the trips I badger her into joining me. She is the kind of person who just needs to see China.
Oh, and one final thing before we travel to France. In most weeks between these international trips, I will be in Sac City, Iowa; York Haven, Pennsylvania; or someplace in Wyoming. How do I pick the destination? It’s pretty much anywhere that the wind blows me. All I need is a WhatsApp message or a Facebook Messenger contact to send me rushing to my MacBook to check out the logistical details to make these trips happen.
Now Paris…well, not really Paris!
Have patience; will travel.
Traveling requires a good deal of patience. To me, patience is simply putting mind over matter. I can look at my options and pick the best one. I don’t want to waste my time trying to consider things the way I might like them to be when those options don’t exist. I’m actually pretty good at that.
Europe. Week 2.
Today, I am transitioning from England to France. There are a lot of little steps that all have to be taken to make things a success.
This morning, I am leaving the Hyatt Place hotel in Cambridge, England. That means packing everything up just a little bit differently than if I were just relocating to a different hotel in England today. I’m flying today.
I gotta bring less.
I brought too much stuff. My wardrobe typically consists of shorts, T-shirts, and underwear. However, given the cold, windy weather in England, I brought a couple of pairs of long pants, three or four windbreakers, and sweatshirts. That stuff takes up space.
This is why I’m here.
I am a trackchaser. As a trackchaser, I travel the world, trying to see auto racing at as many different race tracks as I can. Almost everyone reading this, even most auto racing fans, has never ever heard of trackchasing until they ran into me.
Let’s say that you wanted to become a trackchaser. You might start by putting a red dot on a world map at every location with a racetrack. There would be a lot of red dots on your map.
My red dots have disappeared.
I’ve now seen racing at more than 3100 tracks. My “universe’ of tracks to be seen now excludes more than 3,100 of those red dots. In order for me to see a new track, each of the remaining red dots is much farther away than when my world map had all the red dots on it. Understood?
Do NOT miss this vignette.
I have discovered in France, even when they have modern convenience stores and petrol stations, the men’s restrooms have only a toilet bowl, no seat cover, and no seat. Just a cool, vibrant feeling of a white porcelain toilet bowl. Don’t worry. You get used to it.
United States Marine Corps – 1971
Not an ounce of exaggeration.
I am a former Marine. During Marine Corps Boot Camp, facilities were nearly as luxurious as what they were offering in a French convenience store.
By the way, you have probably seen this type of Marine Corps photo before. Here’s how it works. You’ve been busting your butt all day in the trenches. They bring you in, slap on a “vest” which looks like a real uniform, and give you a cover (hat). You sit in the chair for maybe 20 seconds, and then you’re sent back out into the field. I’ll bet you weren’t thinking that’s the way it went down, were you?
When I was in the Marines (that’s me, lower left trying to optimize in a card game), we were still staying in Gomer Pyle-style Quonset huts. There are 72 Marines in a platoon. Every day we did drills. We would stop once or twice during the day for a “head call.” That simply means that it would be time for the Marines to go number one or number two if you get my drift.
Inside the bathroom building, there were 18 toilet bowls, one next to the other, with no partitions separating them. The Marine Corps sergeant would alert everyone that we had two minutes to complete our head call. Since we might have been marching all over the place for the last four hours, people were ready to make the most of these two minutes.
Run!
As soon as we were released, everyone ran into the bathroom at full speed. Under the best of circumstances, we now had 72 Marines peeing into 18 toilet bowls at the same time. Do the math. This was no place for bashful kidneys.
Each Marine stood around the toilet bowls, relieving themselves as quickly as they could. If you returned to the platoon formation beyond the two minutes allowed, there would be hell to pay.
The sit-down head call.
Of course, as God had designed things, some marines needed to make a “sit-down head call.” If you don’t know what a sit-down head call is, you might think of it as “going number two.”
For those unfortunate Marines, they were now sitting on a white porcelain toilet bowl trying to “do their business“ while 71 other Marines furiously filled the remaining 17 toilet bowls. It sounds pretty comical to explain it 50 years later.
I can tell you this. After completing Marine Corps Boot Camp, I had a lot more confidence that I could do just about anything that I could imagine. When you are forced/encouraged to do something that you’ve never done before, it becomes just a little bit easier to do. The more things that you can get done with mind over matter, the more successful you are likely to be. Those toilet bowls in France were nothing compared to my Marine experience.
I optimize for the deal.
I had booked a flight on British Airways using Alaska Airlines points to get me from London to Paris. I think I got a great deal. I only needed 7,500 airline points plus $74 for the one-hour-and-20-minute flight. Those flights are typically very inexpensive on a cash basis, but with points, I would be able to check one or two bags for free.
Have you done this?
I am not a huge fan of driving on the left side of the road, as I did in England. I can do it, and I’ve done it a lot, but it’s not my preference. I was looking forward to getting into France and driving on the right side of the road, even though France is a huge stickler for staying within the speed. I’ve gotten several “speeding” tickets over the past few years in France.
When I returned my rental car to London’s Heathrow airport, I filled up my gas tank. The bill came to $132 U.S.
When I returned the rental car, I was happy the agent agreed there was no damage. Then, I hopped on the rental car bus carrying all of my luggage. It was a longer ride than I expected. From there, it was the process of checking bags, getting ay boarding pass, and all of the routine stuff.
2 liters? Really?
The next step was clearing security. I’ve had some problems with Heathrow in the past with extra scrutiny over carryon items that would never be a problem in the United States.
Surprisingly, Heathrow has a new policy on liquids. You can bring up to two liters of liquids through security. Previously, the limit was like it is everywhere else, 100 milliliters.
I arrived early for my flight to Paris. That gave me time to complete my four miles of daily walking. Airline terminals are great for getting your steps in. The rest of the time was spent in the American Airlines terminal lounge.
Are you comfortable with uncertainty?
Yes, you need lots of patience to travel and even more to travel internationally. I am comfortable with uncertainty. If uncertainty bothers you, then you might spend all of your time asking why the system doesn’t do it differently. If you have experience, then that knocks down anything that might be worrisome because you kind of know how things are going to work.
People ask me how I have the energy for this. I don’t know how to answer the question other than to say that I have the energy, the motivation, and the willingness to take these trips.
Status matters.
They say size matters. I think status matters more. Today, I was flying on British Airways. American Airlines and British Airways are part of the Oneworld Alliance. That means that if you’re a big deal status-wise with one airline, other airlines in the alliance will respect that.
I am a lifetime “Executive Platinum” frequent flyer with American. That translates to “Emerald” with Oneworld Alliance carriers. This allowed me to bypass all of the normal check-in lines and go straight to the British Airways first-class check-in area.
There would be no charge to check bags. I wanted to carry on my 22-inch rolling bag and my computer bag. Both weighed well over 50 pounds. Normally, that wouldn’t be allowed, but today the lady looked at my bags, shrugged, and told me, “No problem.” That’s what I wanted to hear.
Security was super-fast; there was no one in line in the special “first class” security area. I walked a few more steps, and I was suddenly in the British Airways First Class lounge. This was an outstanding lounge with excellent food. I scanned the QR code where I was sitting and they delivered a Coke Zero and their own special house margarita. A little while later, a couple of employees walked up with a tray of cocktails, I grabbed one and they took my photo. I might be appearing in their newsletter!
You can’t do that!
Once on board my British Airways flight, I had an exit-row seat that provided plenty of legroom. Foreign carriers are pretty anal about exit row seats. They wouldn’t even let me have my sweatshirt, which was lying on the seat beside me.
My international rental car strategy.
I had rented an economy car for only €340 for six days. That IS a low price.
I normally rent a budget-class car, expecting to be upgraded to something bigger and better.
When I asked “Hugo,” the National Car Rental agent, if I had any choice of cars, his immediate response was “no.” Of course, in my world, “no” simply means we need to talk about this just a little bit more, which is what he and I did. Soon, he found a potential upgrade for me. It was a two-class upgrade to a Renault Espace. The car had only 1800 km on the odometer. He told me he would have to charge me a small amount for the upgrade. Small amount?
Sometimes an upgrade fee is OK.
He said the upgrade would increase the amount from €340 to € 406. I tried to get him to give it to me for free.
This comment got a reaction!
At one point, I told him that “he was taking money from my grandchildren” for charging me for this upgrade. You would’ve thought I had shouted “fire” as loud as I could based on the reaction of everyone within earshot. When they heard that Hugo was taking money from my grandchildren, they stopped what they were doing immediately, turned in my direction, and let out a cumulative, “Oh.” Hugo was a friendly guy, but I had to settle for his offer of an extra €11 per day.
Hugo was a sly one.
Hugo was explaining all of the dos and don’ts and slyly asked me if I would be driving the car outside of France. I could have said no, but that wouldn’t have been true. If I had a problem in Spain, where I would be driving the car, that could be a big problem, right? With this new information, Hugo informed me there was an additional 55 euro charge for taking the car to Spain. Sometimes you eat the bear, and sometimes the bear eats you.
The Renault Espace SUV rental car is huge; the Cadillac Escalade is huge. I drive a very large SUV, a Tesla Model X, as my personal car, but I would really prefer a sedan most of the time when I’m renting a car.
Issues in France.
Driving in France has never worked out all that well for me. Once Carol and I were in a rental car in Cannes, France. A guy ran into the back of us. It is true that I might’ve been stopped in the wrong place, but he still ran into us.
The guy was late for work. His workplace was only a block away when he hit me. He gave me his brand-new iPhone as a “deposit,” pointing to where he was headed to work and saying, “I’ll meet you there.” In the end, it all worked out like it always does.
Ma and pa places.
Where I’m going to be visiting in Spain and France, the only options I have for earning Hyatt credit are the Mr. Smith & Mrs. Smith properties. Those are all ma and pa, one-of-a-kind, smaller, upscale, and expensive properties.
I used to come to Europe or most other worldwide locations, and just stay for one week, not two. Then I discovered it was easier and more fun just to hang out for a couple of weeks. I would see racing on the weekends and then merge those two weekends into a Monday-through-Friday touring block. For this trip, because I saw racing on Friday and then Monday, my touring time was limited to just Tuesday-Thursday.
I usually don’t stay at many boutique hotels. I probably should because they’re so unique and lovely. I try to add every possible hotel stay I have to the Hyatt program. Most Hyatt brands are not boutique hotels.
However, the Hyatt brand chain does have an affiliation with “Mr. and Mrs. Smith Hotels. These properties ARE boutique hotels. They range in price from $150 to $2,000 and sometimes more. My next three nights would be in Mr. and Mrs. Smith hotels.
Where the zero is is very important.
Even though I am always telling you that I practice the Die with Zero financial/lifestyle, I don’t want the zero to get there before I die. I won’t be paying $500 a night for a Mr.& Mrs. Smith property.
However, Carol and I did stay at the Alila Ventana Resort & Spa up in Big Sur, California, a couple of months ago. The lowest rate for that property was $2,400 per night. Of course, we didn’t pay, but we still enjoyed the same experience.
Wine country and more.
I would be staying in Bordeaux, France, which is wine country. I chose the Clos1906 hotel in Saint-Émilion, France. Google the property if you like.
This was an impressive property. It was small. They had just four rooms and an apartment. When I checked in, they were expecting me. Why? I think I was their only guest on this early April evening.
I always discreetly, my words, try to get myself upgraded from a regular room to a suite or from a regular suite to the presidential suite. I obviously think I have a bearing on the outcome, or I wouldn’t do that.
The property’s owner assured me that he had upgraded me to a suite, and he did. My room was elegant and 100% modern. It had a fireplace and a stairway down to the bathroom. I learned that Edward and his partner bought the property eight years ago. They refurbished it and started in business in 2019, just before COVID. I don’t think I would want to be a hotel owner, and maybe not a hotel owner of a property with only four rooms and an apartment.
Fancy French restaurants.
The property was just a 15-minute walk through the vineyards to the little town of Saint-Émilion in southern France. Edward wrote down a couple of restaurant recommendations on a piece of paper for me. I had been gone about four minutes heading into town when I realized that I had left his restaurant recommendations back in my room. I was too lazy to turn around and go back. It was a small town. I figured I would find the restaurant recommendation he had so glowingly described. Despite walking about a mile and a half inside the town, I never found the places he told me about.
And nevertheless, there were still quite a few French bistros in town. I picked one. It was fine, not great.
Prices were in Euros, and they took credit cards. I went with a Coke Zero, a glass of wine, the ribeye steak entrée, and a dessert of crème brûlée.
Driving the French countryside.
The next morning, Google Maps took me for an hour along narrow French roads that had vineyards in various stages of growth on both sides. Vineyards, Vineyards, Vineyards. I’ve never seen so many vineyards.
I had all day to make a 3 1/2 hour drive today. I was in no rush. Breakfast at the 1906 Clos 1906 Hotel was European. Breakfast was not like the full English breakfast I’ve had for the past week. Everything was prepared by a woman who told me she was from Cuba. You just never know, right?
Apple Pay, the only way.
I used Apple Pay exclusively on this trip. I’ve been gone for 10 days, and as I recall, I’ve only spent local currency one time. Right now, my current “go to” credit card is the Bilt 2.0 card. Luckily, I have a decent credit limit on this card, since the expenses for this trip are adding up.
Postcards!
When Carol comes with me on these trips, she always buys lots of postcards. Postcard stamps in foreign countries are expensive. She mails the cards to our friends and young relatives. I think the highlight of her trip is sending postcards.
When I travel by myself, I don’t send postcards that often. I don’t want to take the time to find an international postage stamp. But today the hotel gave me a beautiful postcard with a photo of their hotel on it. This seemed like a nice souvenir for Carol.
I was there. They told me this.
When I was in one of the medium-sized French towns, I asked Google Maps to take me to a local post office. That worked out very well. I used my Google Translate app to explain what I wanted. I was looking for an international postage stamp to mail a postcard to the United States. I found the post office.
As soon as the woman saw the translated message on my phone screen, she started shaking her head vigorously and saying “No, no no.” What was the problem? It was soon explained to me. Her English-speaking counterpart said that the reason she could not sell me an international stamp was “Because of Trump.”
I have always promised you that I won’t waste your time sharing my views on religion or politics. I think you will agree I have lived up to that promise.
Today, I am just telling you what they told me. They said that from Christmas through April 26, 2026, nothing can be mailed to the United States. I was incredulous. All I could get out of them was, “because of Trump.” I wanted to get to the bottom of this. I asked, “You won’t mail my postcard because you don’t like Trump?” The reply was, “He doesn’t like us.” Folks, that’s all I can tell you. I hope you don’t think I am talking politics. I am just telling you what they told me.
Tonight, Spain.
Tonight, I was staying in San Sebastian, Spain. This was another Mr. & Mrs. Smith, a Hyatt-affiliated location. It was the perfect stop between last night’s Bordeaux wine country and tomorrow’s circuit racing in Las Arcos, Spain.
The hotel was modern and upscale. Although it was a Mr. and Mrs. Smith property, the clerk swore up and down that there was no affiliation with Hyatt, only with Hilton.
The hotel had an underground parking garage. I’ve been in several parking garages on this trip, and each one was a near disaster.
I’m driving a Renault Espace SUV with side mirrors that stick out nearly 10 inches out on each side. Every one of the parking garages that I’ve used has had huge support poles. They look like they were designed only for a Volkswagen Beatle to drive through.
Tonight’s hotel was only $125. In Mr. and Mrs. Smith’s currency, that’s almost free. At the same time, it was a beautiful hotel in a suburban neighborhood.
I would need some dinner tonight. The hotel restaurant didn’t open for dinner until 7 p.m.. Yes, they eat late in Europe. I had a choice to make.
Hang back or explore?
I could play it safe and limit my new experiences by simply eating in the hotel. For some reason, I never liked to eat in hotels. I had another choice.
I found out I could take the city bus into the old town section of San Sebastian, where there would be plenty of restaurants. I chose the bus. I got some good directions from the desk clerk, who told me the bus number and the stop I needed to take, and where I needed to get off. This would be fun. I rarely ride city buses.
This plan would also allow me to get my steps in for the day. Along came my bus. I used my iPhone’s tap-to-pay feature to pay the fee. I haven’t looked. I have no idea what it cost. It couldn’t be that much, right?
Tap to Pay saves my day.
I don’t know if you use tap-to-pay in your daily life. I get mildly annoyed if the place I am spending money at doesn’t accept Apple Pay on my iPhone. I use it 90% of the time to pay for things on trips like this and at home as well.
The old town section in San Sebastian was buzzing with people. It seemed like most of them were local. English was definitely a far second language compared to Spanish.
I did a quick Google search to find the best restaurant near me. It gave me a recommendation for a place that wasn’t opening until 7:30. That gave me some time to walk along the Bay of Biscay. When I arrived at the restaurant, there was a line of people out the door waiting to get in. Fortunately, I started up a conversation with one of the other diners. I was looking to eat some paella, a dish from Spain. I learned this restaurant didn’t serve paella but the guy gave me a recommendation for a nearby eatery that did.
Paella…for two.
If you’re not familiar with paella in Spain, it’s a rice dish typically cooked in an iron skillet with a variety of meats and seafood.
I found the paella restaurant. I got a table right next to the kitchen, which let me see what was going on through large, clear windows as they prepared the food.
One of the items on the menu was a 250 g T-bone steak for €36. Then I looked at the other offerings. The paella started at €54! That’s about 60 bucks. I made some inquiries and found that this was the price for two people, and they only serve two people. What the heck, right?
Die with Zero. I ordered the paella. It was delicious. I took nearly half of it back to my hotel and had it for breakfast, since this particular Mrs. and Mrs. Smith Hotel did not offer complimentary breakfast.
This is a fun and worthwhile project.
I’m trying to help a young Angolan woman learn English while she studies at a South African school. When her English improves, she can immigrate to a Western country for a better life with more opportunities.
Visas are difficult to obtain and typically only last 90 days for visitors. Getting a South African visa extension is less than intuitive. The process definitely taxed my brain. I worked on that as long as I could, then headed out to find a post office in Spain to mail Carol’s postcard.
I asked Google Maps to send me to a post office in San Sebastian. They did. However, when I arrived, there was no post office. I did get a chance to talk to several locals. They spoke to me just a little bit in English, and I finished the rest of our conversation with Google Translate.
Siri, take me to a post office.
I noticed I had time to try for one more post office discovery attempt. I said to my iPhone, “Siri, take me to a post office.” She/her informed me that a post office was within a half a mile of where I was located. I went there, parked in a handicap spot because some people feel that I do have some mental deficiencies, and still couldn’t see the post office. I used Google Translate to ask a couple of women for directions, and soon I was inside that post office.
I arrived at 2:20 p.m. The post office was closing at 2:30 p.m. I just made it. For 2.65 euros. which is a bit more than three dollars, I could buy a stamp to mail this card to Carol. Then, they had to WEIGH the post card! She won’t get it for a couple of weeks and maybe longer but when she gets it, she will be thrilled.
Along the drive to today’s circuit, I had my leftover paella with scallops in one hand, my Coke Zero in the other and my phone in the final hand. I steered with my knees. Yes, I am a multi-tasker.
Carol’s a homebody.
I love these trips. I don’t mind doing them on my own simply because I’m comfortable traveling 175-200 days a year. Carol taps out at about 60 or 70 nights. Luckily for me, she is very comfortable letting me take a trip on my own while she stays at home and practices being a homebody. If I had a wife who didn’t feel as good about my travel as she does, I probably wouldn’t have a wife.
There’s a lot of communication going on between various other countries and me. I honestly cannot believe how busy I am and how many “irons in the fire” I have with people and I’m retired. It’s exciting.
Who gave me $2,000?
I just paid all of my federal and state income taxes with my credit card. Doing that gave me about $2,000 in travel credits. Traveling all over the world and especially in Europe is expensive. $2,000 will not come close to paying for this trip but as I always say “$2,000 is better than nothing” Maybe, you’ve said that! I got that $2000 by simply paying my taxes with a credit card!
No pickups.
This ain’t Texas. One thing I find most unusual about Europe is that I could drive on the highways and through the small towns all day long and never see a single pickup truck. I have no idea why that is the case. I am not exaggerating. I don’t know if I’ve seen a pickup truck during the first 10 days of my trip!
Trackchasing in Spain.
After the trip to the post office, it was time to go trackchasing. I was headed to a modern circuit track in Northern Spain. This is what Wikipedia had to say about the facility.
Circuito de Navarra is a motorsport race track that opened in June 2010 near Los Arcos in the Navarre region of Northern Spain. It is a 4.313 km (2.680 mi) permanent road course that hosted the Superleague Formula series and the FIA GT1 World Championship.
The weather was beautiful and warm. I wasn’t as interested in the racing as I was in exploring the entire facility. That is exactly what I did. This was only the third track where I had seen racing in Spain, and my third separate visit.
I don’t speak Spanish, but I know how to plead ignorance.
I didn’t meet anyone who spoke English. I had not made any advance contacts with anyone at the track. I was on my own. I went everywhere, even when I knew I didn’t belong there. What were they going to do to me? Put me in a Spanish prison?
When I had explored every nook and cranny, the racing began. This was a beautiful track, but most of the racing was far from where I was watching. I’m not a fan of road course racing, but I do enjoy checking out these modern big-time racing venues.
I guess you can call me an active trackchaser. I’ve seen racing at 3,131 different race tracks in 93 countries. That’s about as active as it gets. For me, trackchasing is really not so much about racing. It’s about travel and adventure with a racing backdrop.
This was longer than I wanted to drive.
When I left the track in Spain, I had 20 hours until the racing would begin in France. It was going to take me about 12 hours to make the drive. That left me with eight hours of free/hotel time. Most people don’t plan trips like that, but I do.
My mind was conflicted.
My internal debate was whether to pay $170 for a Hyatt-affiliated Mr. & Mrs. Smith hotel for up to 8 hours, or simply sleep overnight in my car.
“Sleep overnight in your car?” you might ask. You don’t do that? Yes, I’ve slept overnight in my car well over 100 times in my life. As a matter of fact, I spent 43 nights a few years ago sleeping overnight in my car, on an airplane, or in an airport.
At the last minute, I decided to go with the hotel route. I would drive seven hours in hopes of arriving at the hotel in Tuilières, France by midnight.
I called the proprietor to make sure that was OK. He told me I was being assigned to room number six, which was an upgrade benefiting my Hyatt global status. He said the key would be in the door when I arrived.
It would be a five-hour drive from the track in Spain to the hotel. I did arrive at 11 p.m. The restaurant was still going strong when I slipped into room number six. As planned, I was out the door at 7 a.m.
A 4-hour endurance race at the Circuit Dijon-Prenois was scheduled to begin the next day at 2:14 p.m. That seemed like an unusual start time. After just a few hours in the hotel room, I set off at 7 a.m. for Northern France. I planned two stops along the way. One for petrol and one for human needs.
The drive was uneventful; the tolls were continuous. I didn’t have to take the toll roads. However, if I took the free roads, I wouldn’t get to where I was going until next Tuesday.
I stopped for gas once. I told them to put a €100 credit on the pump, which is about $116 U.S. I thought I would fill the tank and get a refund. I didn’t fill the tank. I didn’t get a refund. €100 bought me about 3/4 of a tank for the National Rental Car racing Renault Etrace hybrid SUV.
Things don’t always work out.
There are going to be times in life when things don’t go your way. As long as you have a backup plan, there’s no problem. Having options is what life is all about. The only time that you really have no more options is when you die.
Carol and I always joke that there is going to be something unique, something I have never seen, when I visit each track. That’s saying something considering my current track total. However, the photo above is nothing if not unique.
There were no signposts for the Circuit Dijon-Prenois track until I was about 1 km from the track itself. Doing this without GPS support would be extremely difficult. Back in the day, I did it with paper maps, but since GPS didn’t exist, I didn’t know what I was missing.
More difficult than I expected.
When I drove up to the entry gate, I encountered the French equivalent of a Barney Fife security guard. I figured he would wave, open the gate, and send me through. That’s not exactly how it worked out.
The guy only spoke French. No English. He told me I could not be admitted to this private event unless I had a password. I didn’t have a password. I still wasn’t worried. I can talk my way out of most things.
I asked him to get on the radio with one of the race directors, so I could talk to them in English. I would explain that I came all the way from California just to see this, which was, for the most part, true. They would have sympathy for me.
Do you know who I am?
I gave him my trackchasing business card. I heard him trying to translate the word “trackchaser” to someone over the radio. Ultimately, the response was negative.
This was a little bit concerning, but I am a sales guy. I get a negative response from time to time. That doesn’t concern me in the least. I just keep talking.
However, this guy was taking his security responsibilities way too seriously. I watched car after car of “civilians” drive up, say a few words in French, and then be allowed to pass. One elderly guy, maybe even younger than me, just walked on through when the security guard was busy handing out wristbands. I don’t know if that guy was authorized.
How about a bribe?
All of my talking wasn’t getting me anywhere. I came up with another solution. Cash. I offered him €10 if I could “buy a ticket”. This was met with some chagrin. He repeated that this was a private event. I could see the “Fun Cars,” which is a division of Volkswagen Beetles, lining up for the start of the race. This was getting serious now.
What’s the password?
I was using Google Translate on my iPhone to translate English into French. I asked a group of French fans for their “password.” I gave that password to the security guy. Nope. He wasn’t going to fall for my trick.
Finally, I told the guy I would park my car outside the fence. I’m tall. I would watch from there. I think the security guard was happy to get rid of me and said “whatever” in French.
I hopped in my car and took a side road. This road looked as if it was going to get me actually inside the track without anybody knowing. In reality, the road led me to the go-kart racetrack on the racing property. This was going to be a good solution.
From the go-kart track, I could stand within 30 feet of the racing surface of the Circuit Dijon-Prenois. I could see the cars lined up on the starting grid. I knew the race was beginning in five minutes.
I don’t give up until the buzzer sounds.
I had skated past adversity once more. I had certainly faced down the fire of uncertainty. I was pleased. I had a story to tell. Had I been admitted to the paddock, I could not have seen as much of this large road course as I could from my position at the kart track.
This is what Wikipedia says about the Circuit Dijon-Prenois.
The Circuit Dijon-Prenois is a 3.801 km (2.362 mi) motor racing circuit located in Prenois, near Dijon, France. The undulating track is noted for its fast, sweeping bends.
Opened in 1972, Dijon-Prenois hosted the Formula One French Grand Prix five times, and the Swiss Grand Prix in 1982.
51 VW Bugs!
Today’s Fun Car event started with 51 Volkswagen Beetles for their four-hour endurance race. I could see them racing on the entire main straight until they hit turn one for 20-30 seconds. That’s not unusual with road course racing. There are times at road courses or street races when I can’t see that much. That’s why I don’t like watching road racing.
Just as the cars took the green flag, it began to rain. It was a cloudy Saturday afternoon with a wind of 20 miles an hour so not the best of days for spectating.
Don’t get me wrong. If it had been the best weather day in the history of France, there was no way I was going to stay four hours for an endurance race when I can only see a very small portion of the track. I probably watched 30 minutes of the race. Given the weather conditions and the limited site availability that was more than enough.
I had already driven six hours. I still had four hours to get back to my hotel in Paris. I would stay the night there and then drive four hours over toward Sunday’s track. When I was finished there, I would drive four hours back to Paris before I head home on Monday.
This could be nice. Let’s try.
At about 4 o’clock on the drive back to Paris, I decided that it might be nice to dine in an authentic upscale Paris restaurant. All I had to eat that day was a tiny chocolate croissant.
I used Google search with the keywords “French restaurant near me that is open now.” I was hoping against hope. Most fine-dining French restaurants are open for a couple of hours around lunch, then closed for three or four hours, and open again around 7 o’clock for dinner.
Yes! This could work.
Google identified one and only one restaurant that was open from 12 noon until 9 p.m. It was about 10 minutes off the toll road, and that’s where I headed.
When I walked in, I encountered a husband and wife, likely the owners, who explained to me that they were NOT open at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. Google had bad information. AI is commonly not right! Nevertheless, the woman, who spoke English well, told me that I could have a drink, a piece of cake or a cookie, and maybe some ham and cheese. I settled on a chunk of lemon poppyseed cake and a Coke Zero. This was fine, but not what I was expecting.
It didn’t all work out today, but I tried.
Yes, there will be days when things don’t go your way. It happens to everyone. In my case, being the world‘s most laid-back guy, none of this was going to be a big problem. It just was what it was.
I’ll take the high road.
It was actually a fun experience to meet up with such a conscientious security guard who wouldn’t even accept a bribe. I still got to go count the Circuit Dijon-Prenois as lifetime track #3,132.
I didn’t get the authentic French fine dining meal at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. That might be more difficult to do than getting past the security guard I encountered today.
Last full day of the trip.
Tomorrow, Sunday, is my last full day in Europe on this trip. One more track to see. On Saturday night, while doing some late-night research, I found that the track I was planning to visit in France on Sunday had canceled the event two months ago! At least by knowing that, I saved the seven-hour round-trip drive. Getting up-to-date information on some of these places, especially when websites are not in English, can be challenging.
I went to work, trying to find a replacement. This is only the second week in April. Many European tracks have not yet started racing. This limited my options.
I did find a track racing in southern France. Had I known that six hours earlier, when I WAS in southern France, that might have been a good choice.
This would be my last good idea.
I continued my search. The country of Belgium wasn’t that far north of Paris. Would they have anything?
Yes! I found a track, but it was midnight in Paris. I needed to get some questions answered. I sent out a mass email to everyone who had posted a “like” on a Facebook message about the track I was considering.
I heard back from one person. He was already a Facebook friend of mine. He told me the track I was considering in Belgium had canceled their show. Back to square one.
Two heads are better than one.
My friend, at well past midnight, recommended another option I had not considered. In Belgium. I have seen racing at 11 tracks. However, I had never seen the race in Essen.
It would be an eight-hour round-trip ride. I figured if I left at 7:30 in the morning, I could be there by noon. I could watch racing all afternoon and be back at my hotel in Paris by 9 o’clock. I would take a few minutes to jam everything into my travel bags so I could fly from Paris to Philadelphia, then to Los Angeles, on Monday.
No, it’s true. This stuff never stops.
I wouldn’t arrive home until midnight California time on Monday, which would be 9 a.m. on Tuesday morning in Paris! I would crash at my son’s house near LAX. On Tuesday morning in the States, I would then rush up to the Chinese embassy to give them our passports and visa applications for a trip we are taking to China in May.
Not ready for the recliner just yet.
Yes, I’m retired. I don’t sit in a recliner very much, mainly because we don’t own a recliner. When we built our house, our space planner forbade the recliner idea. I didn’t like her edict at the time. That’s another story.
Sunday morning proved to be a clear day in Paris, with blue skies and low temperatures of 10°C (about 50°F).
OK, this might be true. I cause my own problems?
I would need to get gas on my way to Essen, Belgium. My fuel tank showed less than 40 km of driving range left. The car’s orange low fuel warning light was burning brightly.
I saw a sign that said gas was available in 10 km. No problem, right? Then I got busy texting a guy who lives in Holland about a future race trip and drove right past the petrol exit. I hate it when that happens.
I drove on. Soon, I was down to 30 km of fuel, then “poof.” The fuel gauge went from 30 km of fuel remaining to zero. A petrol station was coming up in 20 km. O.K. I squirmed a bit. Then I tucked in right behind a semi-truck and used its draft to pull me along. You should know that I once ran out of fuel on a toll road in Chile. It slowed me down, but I’m here now to tell you about it.
My National Car Rental Racing Renault Espace is a hybrid model. When I’m going downhill, the battery charges, and it doesn’t use gas or electricity. To show how effective it is to pull up about one car length behind a big truck, my gauges changed from gas-burning to EV mode. This is just like the NASCAR guys do it in Daytona!
For some reason, I enjoy trackchasing on Sunday afternoon. Of all of the day and night combinations during the week, Sunday afternoon is my favorite. That might be because NASCAR always raced on Sundays and I’m a big NASCAR fan.
Europeans drivers are better than Americans.
I continue to absolutely love the idea that European drivers do not park in the fast lane. The rules are simple. Unless you are actually passing somebody, you should be all the way over in the slowest way.
If you don’t understand the rules of the road, European drivers are happy to educate you. Let’s say there are three lanes, heading in one direction. If you are driving in the middle lane and not passing anybody, a driver from behind will drive past you in the fast lane, crossover to the middle lane a few feet in front of you, and then cross over to the slow lane. This is them saying, “Get over to the slow lane!” Other “educators” will simply tailgate a driver not driving in the slowest lane until they move over. I am always telling Carol that people need feedback.
Essen, Belgium.
Today’s trackchasing effort would take me to Essen, Belgium. They were offering Belgium Autocross. What is that? This is where they construct a track right out of the farmer’s field and race. These are temporary tracks. This is early April. Today’s track will probably be planted in an agricultural farm crop starting next week.
Essen is about four hours north of Paris, where I was staying. The drive was easy, not much traffic on a Sunday morning. I had been given driving directions by a Facebook friend, whom I only discovered at about midnight last night. It is true that I travel on the seat of my pants.
Trackchasing in Belgium.
The track was well signposted. I pulled in to find a very well-organized parking lot. Europe can sometimes be famous for having people “boxed in.” Being boxed in is never a good situation.
Today, the cars were all parked neatly. I discovered that the entry fee would be €15. They had a small portable credit card reader, about the size of your phone, that processed my payment using my Bilt 2.0 card.
Bilt Pilladium 2.0.
If you don’t know about the Bilt card, it’s a card that allows you to earn credit card points on your mortgage payments. I’m knocking down about 6,000 points a month, 72,000 points for the year with Bilt and my mortgage payment. Those points are worth about $2,000 in travel credit to me. O.K., $2,000 will not make you rich, but I would still bend over in a parking lot to pick up $2,000 if I saw it. Would you?
And now, for the first time ever, somebody is giving me $2,000 just because I was smart enough to take out a big mortgage, pay only the interest on that mortgage, and charge it all to my credit card! Remember, there are pearls. All you have to do is bend over and pick up the pearls.
Autocross in Belgium.
Often, Belgium Autocross attracts over 100 race cars. Today, they only had about 60 in the pit area. It’s early in the season. When I arrived, the unique, three-wheeled automobiles were racing.
Imagine taking a small four-cylinder 2L-powered car and cutting it in half. Then you throw away the rear half and build a suspension contraption with only one wheel in the back. That’s what a three-wheeler is. Take a look at the pictures, and you will see exactly what I saw.
These three racing machines are not very stable. Maybe that’s why Henry Ford decided that four wheels would be the best choice. I saw a few of them flip over today. Nobody was injured.
The three wheelers were racing on a large dirt oval. I would guess the track was about 1/3 of a mile long.
Today, I arrived a little before noon. Three-wheelers were the last class before they took a brief intermission for track preparation. The black earth farm field surface breaks up easily under the pressure of spinning race car tires.
What were they offering for lunch?
I took the opportunity to visit the concession stand. I entered a large tent playing recorded polka music, of all things. I soon learned I would have to buy tokens with my credit card in the exact amount that I would need for food and drink today. To do that accurately, I checked out all of the signage to see how many tokens I needed. I bought six tokens for nine euros.
I exchanged two tokens for a Coke Zero that was poured from a 2 L bottle into a plastic glass. I know that they make more money doing it that way.
I went around the corner and spent four tokens or six euros on the Boodje Mexicano. This was a meat sandwich on a white roll, with a large slice most people might think of as fried spam. I engaged my server in conversation when she recognized my accent. A few people did that today. I didn’t even think I had an accent. She slathered my sandwich with mustard. As a youngster, we didn’t have much, but we always had spam, Vienna sausages, and fried bologna. I had a lot of protein as a kid!
When the track preparation was complete, they got back to racing. The first couple of classes raced on the same track they had competed on before the break.
They had a couple of classes of youngsters. They raced on a smaller track. That would not count as a new track for me because the founding fathers didn’t like kids, apparently. Racing by kids, when limited to kids, doesn’t count.
Let me introduce you to Pierre.
About that time, I saddled up to an older man who I thought looked quite a bit older than me. He was actually two years younger. He probably thought the same thing!
The man’s name was Pierre. He was a lifelong resident of Belgium. He had worked for Exxon for forty years and retired 12 years ago. I enjoyed the conversation. He was surprised that anybody would be crazy enough to do what I do with my track. I get that reaction a lot.
Pierre had a track program that showed when each car would race all day long. Racing started at 10 a.m. and was going to go until 7 PM. Essen was having their one and only event for the year. It was a three-day show finishing up today.
Pierre was a personable and friendly man. He spoke English well. He told me that the “Green party political group” was strongly opposed to auto racing in Belgium. He said they helped close down many racetracks. I told him I knew the feeling. Environmentalists in the United States aren’t that wild about racing either, so many of the tracks I saw many years ago have now closed.
The next couple of races were races for “bangers.” I learned on this trip from my buddy Frank from Holland that the word “banger” simply means an old car. I always thought the name came because banger racing has lots of banging.
This was a big deal to me.
The bangers ran two heat races with about 10 cars in each race. They came on the track, took a couple of slow warm-up laps on the smaller track that the kids had raced on. That wasn’t big news. I figured when they actually started racing, they would go onto the big oval, but they didn’t.
As God is my witness, as backed up by several video clips, the bangers actually raced on the smaller oval the kids used, which might’ve been about a quarter mile in size.
This was fantastic news for me as a trackchaser. In the world of trackchasing, this would allow me to count two tracks during my trip to Essen, Belgium, today.
This gave me a total of eight tracks that I’ve seen on this trip over a period of 13 days.
So long, Pierre. See you next time.
When it was time to bid farewell to my new friend Pierre, I gave him my trackchasing business card. I have met thousands of people literally just like this. Oftentimes, I will run into them 20 years later, and they will give me every detail of our conversation where we first met up. I normally just smile because I don’t remember the visit at all, but I’m happy that they do. Pierre declined my offer to take his photo.
From there, it was a four-hour drive back to my hotel near the Charles Degaulle ton airport. The motorways were smooth, and there were lots of wind machines dotting the landscape.
Heading home.
Tomorrow I’ll be flying on American Airlines. I used 30,000 American Airlines miles and $134 to buy a coach ticket in premium economy. That seat came with free drinks and would take me from Paris to Philadelphia, and then I’ll change planes to fly to Los Angeles.
I know that folks think I spent a lot of money on this hobby. It’s all relative, really.
Doing this is more expensive than playing canasta with your neighbors on Thursday nights. This is not as expensive as flying to outer space. I can afford it.
You get to decide.
If you’ll get to a point in life where you think you might have passed the midpoint, you might think about life this way. Have you earned, saved, and invested enough money to enjoy your life? I hope you did. At that point, you have a decision to make. You can spend the money and enjoy yourself. Or you can save the money, stay at home, and enjoy yourself. I know. Some folks think that staying at home is a good time. If so, why did that person bust their butt earning money to keep in a safe deposit box? The safe deposit box is a metaphor!
I did my best.
I did my best on this trip to stay under the speed limit. In France alone, I drove nearly 3,000 km (2,000 miles) in five days with my rental car. I tried to stay under the speed limit. I wasn’t perfect. On virtually every trip I’ve taken in Europe over the past few years, I’ve received a speeding ticket months after the violation. In France, those tickets are sent to me in French. That’s more than annoying. When that happens, I take a screenshot of the letter and mail it to my buddy in Belgium. He translates things and tells me how much I owe. I send him the money via PayPal, and he pays the ticket.
Everyone I met in England, Spain, France, and Belgium was nice, except for that security guard at the track in France. It’s true. He was only doing his job, but I think he could’ve let me slide a little bit. Nope. He chose not to, despite all my efforts to persuade him.
No rest for the weary or even the jet-lagged.
Within hours of getting home, I have to run up to the China Visa Center in downtown Los Angeles to drop off our passports and visa applications for a visit to China next month. I hope they don’t keep those passports for very long because I’ll need them in a couple of weeks to go to South Africa.
Thanks for reading along. I hope you found something entertaining, and maybe even a travel tidbit or two you can use on your own trips.
One of the folks pictured has never been president of the United States. We are all within two years of each other in age. I think it might have been better to pursue a career in trackchasing.
Randy.