Assen here we come - Moto GP tomorrow.
29/6/12

After a leisurely breakfast we pointed the bikes toward Assen and pinned the throttles. About an hour and a half later we rolled up to the front gate of the Assen TT circuit. Wow! We bought our tickets for the next day and to say I was excited would be a huge understatement. I’ve been to GPs before in Australia, but I’ve heard that crowds of 140,000 are common at Assen. How’s that for atmosphere?

Got my tickets. Who's a happy boy then.

Hair style courtesy of Shoei helmet venting system.

Then it was a quick squirt over to the camp ground to set up camp and meet the Dutch boys. They were there, and they were well equipped. Four fridges, a sound system linked to a computer that blasted out great music, a huge grill, and a portable bar that certainly made a statement.

Our little camp set up...

...and the boys set up.

The crew: Willy, Sjang, Skippy, Mark,Joris, Peter, Pieter, Roger, and Robert.

The bar, with our camp in the background.

A plastic blow up sheep made a surprise appearance.

These guys come here every year and Leigh invited me along this year. The deal is the boys bring along a truck load of booze (Literally, I saw thirty crates of beer, plus what was in the fridges) and everyone chips in to a kitty to pay for it. Our little group headed into town to buy some rations (Sue’s Gin and wine) and get some cash. When we got back I asked how much I had to put into the beer kitty and was told they had discussed it while we were in town and we were not required to contribute. I tried to argue the point but was firmly told that the decision had been made. Then they all proceeded to run around after us and make sure we had drinks, were happy, and everything was OK. We sampled Dutch hospitality at it’s finest. Thank you all very much guys.

Then the fun started, and when I say fun, I mean fun. These guys know how to have a good time. There was no shortage of very loud fire crackers, and once the guys worked out that Suzanne would scream “F***” every time one went off near her, all the crackers seemed to migrate her way. The other thing Suzanne loved was the giant spud guns. Take one milk churn, you know, the old ones that the milko used to carry on the cart behind the horse. Place a mixture of chemicals and water in the churn, force a soccer ball into the mouth of the churn, and light the resulting gas through the pre drilled hole near the base. It’s a huge BOOM and the ball shoots a few hundred feet into the air. These things were all over the camp ground. Like I said, Suzanne loved them. . . . . insert "no Simon I did not love them ! they scared the crap out of me every time one went off !"

Igniting the giant spud gun.

The result. You can see the ball on it's way up at the top of the photo.

Then the moped came out. There is no shortage of mopeds, scooters, mini bikes, etc hooning around the camp ground all day and night.

The boys weapon of mass destruction.

German version.

Why wouldn't you?

A Simmonchelli Replica scooter, complete with replica rider.

I think Marco would have liked this.

A little tow grass surfing is always fun.

Did I mention these guys aren't exactly politically correct? The Burkas were a hit with everyone though. In fact, pretty much everything that happened at the camp ground over the three days would be politically incorrect or illegal in Australia. I’m so happy I’m being protected from myself when I’m at home. NOT!

What do you do when your mate goes into his caravan?

You tip it over of course!

Early in the evening Suzanne got her face and body painting gear out and went to work on some ugly heads.

Ugly heads...

And not so ugly. One of our friends is missing his Triumph Buff.

Does anyone recognise what Suzanne is wearing?

Suzanne was very popular, especially with a couple of the German guys who came over to get painted, and came back, and came back, and came back...

Of course as the night wore on the inevitable happened. Firstly Annmarie went for a ride on the pink moped. She got faster and faster until…she went down.

Annmarie's riding lesson. FAIL!

No real injuries, just a few little cuts. So hubby Leigh decides to have a go. Now Leigh’s crash wasn't particularly spectacular, but the results were. He had a big gash in his finger from his wedding ring, a few scratches, but best of all, some bruised or broken ribs. Just what you need when you’re riding a fully laden R1200GS with pillion.

The fun and games went on and on and consisted of all of the above plus:

Extremely loud truck horns blaring.
Bikes being held on the rev limiters for minutes on end.
Burn outs on bits of wood or grass.
Huge bonfires
Fireworks galore
Smoke flares
Emergency flares
Huge music systems

I think the last noises I heard were at about 5.30 am.

The boys decided that to finish the night off they would offer their expertise in beauty management to a (very, very, drunk) German gent who obviously needed their help. Firstly a haircut was required. Out came the clippers, but they weren't fast enough, so duct tape was applied to the gents hair and it was removed much more quickly and efficiently. That looked much better, but there was something about his eyebrows that just didn't look right. It was decided that he fact they were there was throwing out this whole make over. They were quickly disposed of. Perfect. What a stunning man he looked when the transformation was complete. I hope he liked it in the morning when he woke up sober.

Tomorrow, the Dutch TT at Assen. Wow!