A Sweet Set Of Wheels

Good on Jenson Button. I hear he won the Grand Prix yesterday. This time last year I followed Formula One (no, not just because Lewis Hamilton was getting down with that Pussycat Doll) – I actually had a mini pash for F1 ever since I was given a press pass to the Melbourne track in 2002. I even paid to see it in Montreal with the Kiwi a few years back. It's pretty exciting what with all the gut-vibrating noises, smell of burning rubber and eye-straining speeds – if a little difficult to keep up with. In Canada '08 we found ourselves standing in the Brazilian section (the only place with shade enough for my pasty skin) and cheered alongside our amigos. "How terrifically sporting to support Lewis Hamilton as well as their own driver", thought I, as I merrily whooped along. We later found out that we were actually cheering for Felipe Massa, who was also in a nice shiny red fast car, and that Hamilton had crashed out after the 19th lap. Whoops.

This year, I am driving my own Maclaren. No, I haven't had a midlife crisis and bought myself a sports car (seriously, where would I put the baby seat?). And no, I'm not doing a red letter day – a couple of hundred quidditch for two laps in the passenger seat? No ta. The Maclaren I speak of is beautifully sleek though. It has a smooth steer and superior red and black bodywork. Its sturdy wheels have traversed many a terrain from Cricklewood Broadway to Hampstead Heath, and pit-stop confusion has been lessened thanks to an easy-on rain cover. When it's not parked in the boot of the car it's full of big, squashy baby, muslin squares and fleecey footmuffs. It's a Maclaren buggy, and a jolly good purchase it was too. Not quite as expensive as a McLaren motor, but infinitely more fun.