By 
If you've been thinking about going to Goodwood, only to delay the trip year after year, I must tell you that getting there is easier than you'd like to believe for an excuse. There's a reason why all the rich folks live around there: it's almost as close to London as it is to the sea.
You hop on a train at Victoria Station in London, and an hour later, you're in Chichester, which is the town next to Lord March's estate. The coffee might be forgettable at the train station, but from there, a £10 taxi ride will get you to the Goodwood Circuit, and since everybody should see the great city of London anyway, there's no reason why not to go the extra mile, timing that visit just right for one of Goodwood's three annual events. All are fun, but the Revival is probably where you should start, taking up the challenge of finding the right clothes for the character you'll play over the weekend.
I've done two Revivals, all three Members' Meetings and two Festivals of Speed so far. Low budget has always been the key word, so when I stayed at the cheapest hotel in town, I got to the action by taxi. When I stayed at the cheapest and closest hotel in town, I walked to the Circuit on the side of the road, being careful not to get hit by a Rolls-Royce. And when everything was sold out in Chichester, I rented a 1.0-liter VW Polo at the airport, only to spend two hours in a traffic jam every morning, mostly because the British are just too damn polite at the roundabouts.
There was even one time when I got the opportunity to camp on site with two former Goodwood employees in a tent, doing handbrake turns in the parking lot with a Nissan Micra once everybody but us left through the gates. That was quite a weekend.
Running around in the crowd all day long while taking thousands of pictures and writing stories on the spot can be tiring for sure. Don't feel too bad for me though, because this time around, being uncomfortable was way out of the question. Subaru of America called, and they had the golden tickets. And helicopters.
Since Goodwood is a historic airfield as well as a racetrack, you get in one of their original Series 1 Land Rovers, Willys Jeeps or Dodge military trucks, after your chopper lands. At this point, the only thing that can stand between you and the gates of automotive nirvana for a brief moment is a Supermarine Spitfire, a North American P-51 Mustang or Britain's last flyworthy Avro Lancaster bomber taking off. Or this thing:
Overall, they had 30 aircrafts on display, spreading from a 1917 Albatros DVa to a 1966 Morovan-Zlin Z526F. Parked next to those were all the military trucks the SAS used between 1940 and 1957. They also called in an equally impressive fleet of historic motorcycles, most of which raced over the weekend, with the oldest contender being a 1926 Brough Superior SS1000 R.
But get into the paddocks, and something with four wheels should make you forget about wings and bikes in an instant.
The rules are simple. Since everything needs to be just like it was when the Circuit was closed by Lord March's grandfather in 1966, only cars built until that year can play at the Revival. But Goodwood gets more than enough of those, from cars many could afford to the most expensive machines in the world. And be that a Mini Cooper S or a Ferrari 250 GTO, all get pushed to their limits, come rain or shine.
Goodwood is the only place where you'll hear David Coulthard complain about his 1958 Austin A35 losing a few horsepower in transport, or see Tiff Needell wave with both hands while crossing the finish line driving a crazy Lotus-Ford 30 from 1965. And make no mistake: if you stand behind any of the Shelby Cobras, big block Corvettes or the Can Am cars during their start ups in the assembly area, you'll go deaf for a while. Of course it's totally worth it.
The Revival is a family event, which is a good, because it's the kids who need to see, hear and smell these cars at speed the most. The next period correct ice cream van is never too far away, and while they take care of their frozen sugar needs, mom and dad can enjoy an equally chilled bottle of Veuve Clicquot for £75 a pop. If that seems too rich, a pint of Goodwood's organic ale or lager is just a fiver.
There's a reason why all Goodwood events are sold out, and it's that it is impossible no to have fun at Lord March's. The man and his crew have though of everything. They've been doing this since 1998. The safety cars are two Mark 2 Jags, one of which has the plates 'BUY 1'. All the support trucks are rare classics as well, and everybody who comes here plays along, because that's the game. This is not Monterey, nor the Le Mans Classic. Goodwood is the only perfectly conserved historic track, and for three days, it becomes 1966 again in the English countryside. Or 1948. It's up to you, really.
But since it's also September there, rain is always a possibility. What then?
Well, some will find shelter, but most will have to rely on their umbrellas. Which group you'll belong to is a wallet-related question. But what's certain is that the drivers won't slow down one bit, even if their cars can't get traction in any of the available gears while costing all the money, plus some change. And water is a great equalizer.
The job of keeping these cars on the tarmac doesn't get much easier on a perfectly sunny day either. Lots of power is paired with very little grip here, and since Goodwood is a very fast circuit, as soon as the brakes start smoking, the cars start spinning faster than their wheels.
When a Jaguar E-Type FHC almost hits a Series 2 Ferrari 250 GTO from 1964, the whole crowd stops breathing for a second. When the very same GTO's front gets wrecked during its next race, nobody is surprised. The least of all is Lord Bamford, the owner of not one, but two 250 GTOs racing at Goodwood. They all know the car will be fixed, and that it shall be back at next year's Revival, or as soon as that panel beater can finish hammering it a new nose. That's how they did it in 1964, and the fact that half a decade has passed makes no difference.
If you think that Americans buying so many Subarus somehow granted us with the best seats in town on Sunday, you're absolutely right. In my head, I even thanked Audi for making all-wheel drive so sexy, and Japan in general for their obsession with quality.
The Salvadori Pavilon puts you on top of a small embankment just by the chicane, complete with deck chairs and complimentary champagne. The fence is low, and it would be hard to get any closer to the action without driving the cars yourself. Except if you happen to be on the other side of the track, which is a public area with the same level of access. Deck chairs aren't included, but nobody is stopping you from bringing your own.
Once you found the spot, you won't leave until the last of the V12s gets turned off. Or maybe when they kindly ask you to leave the pits, because the sun went down, and Goodwood has been closed for about 20 minutes...
Bonus Images:
