Editor’s note: Jeremy Hart, an occasional contributor to Wired.com, is driving around the world with a few mates in a pair of Ford Fiestas. He’s filing occasional reports from the road.
Driving around the world as opposed to flying is meant to negate jet lag and culture shock. But you can't drive across the Atlantic, so the pond is one of two bodies of water we must cross by plane on our round-the-world drive. The culture shock of Big Apple to the Emerald Isle is huge.
NYC was 98 in the shade when we left. The next day we're in Ireland and it's barely breaking into the 60s. The Atlantic is violent over here. We touch a toe in Galway Bay as if to make a link to the place from which we have just come. Before we head inland to Galway and pick up the new fast road to Dublin we stop in Lisdoonvarna for the annual matchmaking festival.
We want to meet County Clare's very own cupid, the amazing Willie Daly, master matchmaker.
Willie Daly has been responsible for some 2,000 trips down the aisle. Matchmaking got its start because rural farmers had great difficulty meeting potential partners, what with there being barely any time to leave the crops and all. Lisdoonvarna’s modern matchmaking festival is the biggest singles event in Europe and lasts the whole of September. Daly expects a women’s rugby team and a group from Japan. We opt not to stick around for the nuptials.
Leaving Lisdoonvarna’s lonely hearts we hit the N18 to Galway and then after a few miles take the new motorway towards Dublin. This leg from the Atlantic to the Arabian Gulf will be all about puddle jumping. Our first of many ferries on this leg of the Fiesta World Tour 2011 is the massive wave-breaker Irish Ferries run across the water to Wales.
Wales is part of the UK but has its own language, one that nearly died but is bouncing back. For a flavour of the tongue-twisting language we meet a man who can explain the mysteries of the Welsh language: Gwyndaf Evans, ex-rally driver, ex-school bus driver and a Ford dealer with two garages in Dolgellau. We present him with a game of Welsh language Scrabble. The fact that Gwyndaf’s first language is Welsh will give him the upper hand in our Scrabble game. Right off, he sees a problem.
‘There’s a J in the game," he exclaims. "We don’t have J in the Welsh language!"
This is a serious matter. The sales manager is summoned. They consult. It seems there is some debate in intellectual circles as to whether or not the J does exist. We're still not sure. Onward.
This being the Fiesta World Tour, we stop in Bridgend in South Wales to meet the blokes who built the engines in our cars. Nice lads. We're driving Euro-made Fiestas because it would have taken ages to ship our Mexican-made models over from the states. We've only got 57 days to make this drive, after all.
We pay a visit to Big Ben, where a government minister meets us. He makes a big deal out of our trip. Good on him. I suddenly recall a famous headline from a few years ago -- "Fog In Channel, Europe Cut Off." It neatly sums up Brits' attitudes toward the rest of the continent.
There's no fog at the White Cliffs of Dover as we catch another ferry, this time to France. France and Belgium go by in a blur. Germany took a bit longer, and with good reason -- we're in the land of the autobahn and, more importantly, the Nurburgring Nordschliefe. Two things any true petrolhead hopes to experience, and we're going to do them both.
Better yet, we'll end the day at Italy's Stelvio Pass (main pic), which Top Gear calls the greatest driving road in the world.
The 'ring is amazing. Absolutely amazing. It winds through the Eifel mountains with a change of elevation of 1,000 feet and 174 -- count 'em, 174 -- glorious corners. Equally amazing, it's classified as a toll road, so anyone can drive 'round it at €22 a lap (about $28.70).
You wouldn't think so to look at it, but the Fiesta is a fine car for Nurburgring noobs. It's got predictable handling, strong brakes and decent power. A lot of people head to the 'ring in something fast and quickly get in over their heads, often with disappointing results. This is not a circuit that you can learn in one lap, even if you’ve played it many times on a computer game.
Everyone who drives the Nürburgring has a favorite section. Some love the attention-focusing downhill to the Fuchsrohre or Foxhole. It is motoring's version of a rollercoaster. The road falls steeply and there is a succession of corners you can take in a straight line. You're really hauling by the time you get to the bottom. Others love the unique Karussel, a tight, almost hairpin, banked corner. Entering it is a weird sensation as the car feels almost like it is on its side.
There is barely anytime for recover from the surprise of Karussel before you are into a deeply wooded section of the track. You are now over halfway round the circuit. It is twisty here and, like most places around the ‘ring, there is little room for error. This is not like a modern grand prix circuit with large run-off areas. Fall of the road here and metal will be bent. Not today. We haven't the time for that. These cars are bound for Dubai with us at the wheels. Puts 24 hours 'round Le Mans into perspective.
The 'ring run, we aim for the autobahn. The autobahn is a byword for speed. Now, there are some sections there is a speed limit. But there also are hundreds of kilometres where you can drive flat-out. You’ll find that traffic is the most limiting factor but we since we have around 600 kilometres of autobahn ahead of us we will have plenty of opportunity to let the Fiestas’ 1.6-liter engines open up.
North of Munich we find the perfect spot. We crest a hill in fifth, revs rising. The car is surprisingly quiet with hardly any wind noise as we pass by 160 km/h, the magic ‘ton’ in imperial terms. Easy. One-eighty, 190... we pass 200 km/hour. Just past 210 (125 mph) we run out of space. Good thing. That’s fast enough for a very hefty fine most places, and fast enough for us.
Onward. The countries pass by. We've rolled through six countries -- almost one-third the number we'll visit on this trek -- in 24 hours. At last, Italy. There are many passes in the Alps -- Brenner, Simplon, St. Bernard -- but they all pale next to Stelvio. If you love driving, that is. Top Gear calls it "driving heaven" and "15 miles of asphalt spaghetti draped on an Alp." Forty-eight hairpin turns and glorious scenery.
We're in heaven.
Photos courtesy Jeremy Hart
