From Turin we headed toward Mulhouse in France where we’d arranged a visit of the Schlumpf collection (one of the worlds most amazing collection of motor cars … more later). The most direct route to Mulhouse necessitated a section of road through Switzerland. We approached the Grand St. Bernard Tunnel; the pass was already closed, and went through what nowadays passes for a border control. The sleepy customs officers (both Italian and Swiss) looked particularly disinterested in us and gave our passports nothing more than a cursory glance. Although, I could swear the Swiss dude actually raised his eyes and tutted as he looked at Gordon’s!

We exited this famous tunnel in Switzerland and progressed northwards passing through some typical ‘Heidi’ scenery with great big cows wearing even greater bells around their necks dotted all over the pretty steep hillside. We stopped at some services where in addition to food and beverages a brisk trade in cuckoo clocks and the ubiquitous Swiss army knives was being done. Have to say their motorway services seriously put our rabble to shame. They provide, in addition to clocks, chocolate and penknives, wait for it…. good, well-cooked, nicely presented food for an agreeable amount of money. It’s a novel idea I know but maybe someone should tell the mob that run our Motorway services that it can be done. Leaving Switzerland and entering France was even less of a fuss than entering was. We were however, still chuckling loudly as we had moments earlier passed the town of Wankdorf and as you might imagine this gave rise to much merriment and childish, schoolboy phnarf phnarf comments and innuendo.

At Mulhouse we headed to the Schlumpf collection housed in the French National Automobile Museum. It’s been at least ten years since I was there last and I must say it amazed me for last week than it had the first time I visited. It literally is an immense open plan space filled with original and pristine motorcars. Check it out on line at this website http://www.schlumpf-collection.com/collection-schlumpf-ang.html

From Mulhouse to Reims and an organised visit of Maison Mumm and its caves (cellars), one of the oldest and best known Champagne houses of them all. We fought hard, but couldn’t resist the photo opportunity which presented itself in the form of Jiri and Tereza’s Czech Republic Mini van… sponsored by and covered with logo’s of their brewery called Chodovar (damn fine beer too). Thus the famed courtyard at Mumm witnessed the coming together of beer and wine and on this occasion I think the beer won (see http://www.facebook.com/theitalianjobevent for photographic evidence of this fine kodak moment)

We were London bound the next day and as we journeyed ever closer to Calais from Champagne, the weather really began to draw in for the first time in the whole ten days. We knew we were getting close to our final destination when it started raining heavily and we employed our windscreen wipers on full speed.

We arrived discreetly at the Novotel, London West in Hammersmith early enough in the day to park our motors, meet our loved ones, check in and enjoy a few well earned beers in the bar before preparing for our gala dinner dance that evening. Our guests of honour – other than the Jobbers of course – were Variety Club ambassador Robert Powell, who played Yellow in the original 1969 movie and a delightful young lady called Jamie Lee Faulkner who was Miss England Runner Up 2010 and Miss Universe (she too works tirelessly for Variety Club).

I did my usual bit of saying a few words of thanks to all assembled, presented some sports awards to a number of teams with Giulia’s assistance, pulled the prize draw tickets out of the box and then introduced Mike Hazsko Deputy Head of Fundraising at the Variety Club and a very old friend of Giulia and mine. He spoke a little about what the charity does and thanked us all for our efforts. We then watched a really brilliant film about their work and collectively it felt as if we all began to realise what the past ten days had all been about. Raising money for children’s charity. That’s been our strapline since we began the Italian Job in 1990 and it still rings true today. Watching the Variety Club film was a poignant reminder that all teams who take part in the Italian Job do it selflessly and with the truly noble aim of making a small difference to the lives of other by so doing.

All participants in the Italian Job are heroes and worthy of an almighty slap on the back and shake of the hand. Together we have raised nearly 2.3 Million pounds and I know there is much more to be raised too. My enthusiasm and that of my mother Giulia to carry it on is without question. We do need help though, so please do what you can and I don’t mean give us money. Really I don’t. I mean don’t stop talking about the event and telling anyone who will listen why it is so special. Don’t stop directing people to http://www.italianjob.com or to our facebook page http://www.facebook.com/theitalianjobevent and most importantly, don’t stop taking part.

The more people who know about it the better. Your help in shouting about it to them is invaluable.

We were all feeling a mighty sense of euphoria following our time at Monza. I gave Ferrari dude a telling ‘I know you know I know you almost stuffed it’ kind of wave as we passed him at the exit, or at least that’s what I tried to convey in my friendly wave.

Following Giorgio’s now much respected road book towards the motorways and ultimately Turin was a mistake in this particular instance. It lead us out of Monza and smack bang into roadwork’s, traffic jams, signs which I know were illegible even to the Italians and more chaos than you could shake a stick at. I noticed pretty quickly three of our teams – two classics both towing trailers and a new cabriolet – go wrong but I guessed my girl like screams to alert them of their error was drowned out by the chorus of car horns, truck brake noises (great whooshes of air) and their owned panicked screams from within their cars as they contra flowed into an even more insane stream of moving vehicles. More by luck rather than by judgement we managed to take the correct junction and somehow followed the indecipherable yellow boards which said ‘deviazione’ and before we knew it we were smack bang in the middle of the city of Turin.

I’ve been lost before in Turin and it wasn’t a pretty or a very brief moment, so I was even more diligent than normal, determined not to let it happen again. I also believe Turin has these gaping Satnav ‘Bermuda Triangles’ which render devices little more than a box with a screen and some pretty shapes and arrows. Ken was my wing man so I was pretty sure we’d be fine … it was Ken after all and Giulia was at the back sitting behind Ken… well that’s where she started anyway. With no notice, not even a sharp intake of breath to advise me….. Ken screeched at the top of his voice LEFT… turn LEFT. He did so a mere nano second before the point of no return where even a joke driver like me knows it would be futile to attempt to turn. I yanked the wheel left with all my might and by the skin of my teeth we made it…. though Giulia was at this point sitting directly behind me and glaring at me via the rear view. I tried to ignore her and decided not to use the rear view again, which I think forms part of the Italian driving test, so I knew I’d be ok.

Next day we drove from Lingotto to the Grande Officine Reparazioni… which is a giant museum complex crafted from the industrial warehouses of the old railway rolling stock repair workshops. The museum celebrates 150 years of Italian Independence and by Jove it was blooming impressive. The series of exhibitions only runs to the end of November so if you’re going get in quick.

We were met promptly at 2pm by 2 Torino Traffic Police Cars, 6 Torino Traffic Police Bikes (yes 6) and a lone uniformed officer with the word ‘Ranger’ emblazoned across his chest and motorbike. Seems he is like a special constable, a volunteer who lends support as and when it is needed. He had this pretty ancient Moto Guzzi whilst the traffic boys were on new BMW’s and Suzuki’s and his trousers had a two inch wide yellow seam whist the traffic police had none. He did wear a scarf and a couple of times when he whipped up on the inside of the Minis I couldn’t help but wonder who was this masked, lone ranger.

These guys did us proud yet again and provided a completely unnecessary, much appreciated and greatly valued police escort to us from one side of their city to the other and high up onto the roof top test track, which sits above our hotel, once the offices of FIAT. They opened their throttles as soon as their two wheels hit the asphalt – even the lone ranger – and they all took the parabolic curve of the test track at full pelt… crazy dudes, but lovely dudes. They dismounted and accepted a round of applause from us all and our profound words of thanks. Speaking with them, it seems that this type of duty is what they love to do, and I know this to be the case too from previous conversations with UK traffic police who have in the past assisted us with convoys. The only difference is; in Italy and other countries the people in the offices see such a duty for what it is and approve it as PR exercise whist back home sadly the pen pushing bean counters run the show. We could have UK police support but it would cost us money I’d rather give to the Variety Club Children’s Charity! On the rooftop we did the last of our special stages orchestrated by Giorgio and demonstrated by yours truly. Upon completion, we performed another buzz round the curve and this time Jiri very nearly came unstuck sideways and was a fag paper away from messy end. We descended and returned to our hotel less than 500 metres away. We got suited, booted and that night enjoyed a delicious banquet in the restaurant on the roof top test track called ‘La Pista’. It was an amazing night and thankfully, we were all walking (having left our cars parked up at the hotel below) and relying on the single lift to the roof for our means of transport home.

Next day we were headed across the mountains towards Mullhouse ….

We caused Lucky Luciano, the garagista from the Florence hotel, a minor heart attack on Tuesday morning when we left but I’m sure he’ll recover fully and in time to berate the next motorist who dares to drive into his garage and presume he can park anywhere he chooses… huh, the very thought!

The road out of Florence is one of those roads which makes you question the notion that the ancient Romans were expert road builders. The motorway from Florence to Bologna which we were compelled to take, is notorious as one of Italy’s most congested. It is also one of the most twisting, uneven and unpleasant stretches of motorway I’ve ever driven. The road is littered with a never ending number of expansion joints which thud away incessantly as you drive over them providing an almost hypnotic, rhythmic and annoyingly repetitive beat. Though we left Florence in a convoy with the Cooper S being driven by one of our team we lost them pretty early on, but not by design I can assure you. It seems they too were suffering the expansion joint issue and thus decided to slow down to a more tolerable pace and increase the interval between thuds, whilst my logic was to go faster so as to merge the thuds into one long continuous drone.

Our destination was Turin but it was via the Autodromo of Monza, an not inconsiderable detour, but a very worth while one. We were looking forward to some more special stage fun and games as well as a blast around the circuit at the climax of our day there. We’d teamed up with a benevolent Italian outfit called ’Sei ruote di speranze’ (6 wheels of hope). These guys are awesome and use big fat cars such as Ferrari, Lamborghini, Porsche and even a Zonda to give wheelchair using children, their siblings and family members a day of abandon and carefree enjoyment. They enjoy thrilling rides around the circuit or in sidecars on classic motor bikes, or in a fire engine and police cars with sirens blaring.

The circuit complex was completely taken over by them so initially when we met up within the circuit we used the old pits from where we processed down past the crowds of families to a large parking area where we’d set up our cones for the next round of special stages. Smack bang in the centre of this parking area was a raised kerb. It was circular and was probably no more than 12 inches or so in height and around 20 or so feet in diameter. We were I guess around half way through the last of our three stages when a Ferrari 460 burbled past us and parked up at the entrance to our parking area. Please remember that all the time we had been at Monza we were being deafened by the sounds of cars pummelling around the circuit at what looked to us like supersonic speed, police sirens screaming and wailing and the deep ‘internal organ vibrating’ supercars which emitted either a deep bellow of a road or the highest pitch whine you’d ever heard! So, as I was saying this 460 stopped and a Ferrari dressed due and his son got out and started walking (I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you the guy was definitely strutting) along the line of our Minis. I approached and said hi and explained who we were and what we were doing. I asked him if he’d like to do one of our special stages for a bit of fun to which he replied no. Then Trina, who clearly loses all grip on reality whenever a Ferrari can be seen, approached and I thought hello hello, what’s she going to ask the dude? She asked him nothing. She asked me to ask him if she could sit in the car for a photo…. Ferrari dude said YES! So off they went back to his car. Thinking nothing more of it I returned to watching our teams performing the special stage. Then all of a sudden and completely out of nowhere, the Fwerrari, with Ferrari dude driving and a smiling Trina in the passenger seat screamed into life and sped across the car park with it’s engine whining at a decibel level that manages to hurt but not permanently damage your fearing. I was smiling now and so was Ferrari dude, who I think knew his audience was well and truly captivated. Everything seemed to stand still as this £100,000 + motor car zoomed across the asphalt with smoke billowing out from all wheels and thick streaks of black rubber being etched into the ground as Ferrari dude played the crowd. One doughnut, one handbrake turn and then near disaster…. I think he was trying a crowd pleasing J turn (the money shot) and as his back end spun round and more smoke billowed out I thought to myself, I hope he’s seen that raised kerb bit in the centre or else he’s gonna thwack his pretty shiny car pretty bloody hard against it. As he eventually came to a standstill at the end of the J turn, it was very obvious he’d had no clue whatsoever about where the kerb was. On later inspection the black track marks he planted with his tyres were no more than a foot away…. I thought to myself that it just goes to show that even plonkers drive really nice cars. Trina was still grinning like the cat that got the cream from within Ferrari dudes car though I did notice a little stomach turning look of phew! I’m pleased I had a light lunch earlier. Ferrari dude then dropped Trina off and disappeared off no doubt rehearsing with his son the story he would tell his club mates minus I’m sure the near miss.

We finished our stages and at bang on 4pm we re-assembled at the old pit lanes for our three laps of fun on Monza. The guys at Monza are great and pretty much told me we could set the speed of our laps ourselves with our pace car. So Ken stood out through the sun roof and took snaps, while Gareth drove. Speed increased to what I think was a discreet but enjoyable level and after three laps of the fairly long circuit our teams exited and all of them had big beaming smiles on their faces. Not everyon can say they’ve driven their car on on of the worlds most important and historic circuits. We fiannly left Monza at around 5pm and made our way towards Turin and the Lingotto Roof Top Test Track. Monza’s maze of very confusing roadworks meant a few teams took wrong turns early on but by 10.30 or so that evening all had made it in safely and without incident to our hotel.

I’ll bring you details of our Turin adventure tomorrow ….

The hotel we were staying in was fine (that’s the best word I can think of to describe it) and whilst there was nothing about it that shone particularly, equally there was nothing about it which caused me to vent my frustration in finger tapping style on TripAdvisor. The biggest niggle I had was the rather ungenerous proportions of the bathrooms. Ken told me later that he had figured out a way to sit on the toilet whilst simultaneously dangling his feet into the bidet for a thorough scrub. Car parking arrangements here were archaic and chaotic to say the least. It was’nt so much a valet service… more a thoroughly annoyed chap called Luciano (the garagista) who shouted at you in Italian when you drove in and gestured wildly at you pointing furiously at your keys. It seems that he needed to tell us all precisely where to park our cars before we could park. Then we had to leave our keys with him for ‘security reasons’. Not too bad you might think….. But it becomes a royal pain in the arse each time you need to return to your car to get something or check you hadn’t left something! But hey, that’s how they roll in Florence and who am I to question such traditions. The Minis all formed a block within the 20 Euro a night car park, which meant the majority were hemmed in by the minority. Not a problem though because Lucky Luciano was around to assist… only he wasn’t or at best he was hard to find….all the time!

On the morning of our departure for Chiantishire, having successfully found Luciano and persuaded him to hand over our keys we all managed to extricate our cars from the fume filled unventilated garage and make our way up top. Once up top and with a lung full or two of fresh city air we performed an operation for which the Italian Job has become pretty adept in recent years…. we took over the roadway behind the hotel and owned it presidentially, creating a hefty hard to shift mass of people, cars, mechanics, tools and other paraphernalia…. not intentionally of course, quite by accident in fact.  Not a great deal was moving and so what if a coach needed to reverse in to the area, or if a coach load of tourists needed to get off on the next stage of their ‘lets see Europe in 5 minutes tour‘…. We had Minis to get out onto the road and we were working to a clock…. Giorgio’s clock to be exact and by jiggery, those Minis would cross that start line bang on time come hell, high-water or an irate coach driver or two.

Out on the roads we headed away from the city and towards Greve in Chianti for a check in time control. The ‘Piazza’ where we parked in Greve was beautiful and clearly the centre of this small ‘steeped in centuries of wine making tradition’ community. We parked in such a way to show off our cars to all passers by, of which there was quite a steady flow. Nick Gerolemou, who the previous evening had paid £100 (at auction I hasten to add ) for a ride in the back of team 46’s Cabriolet prepared himself for what lay in store. He would be their prisoner passenger for the next stage through the cypress tree lined roads leading to our next destination, the fabulous Badia a Coltibuono. He donned his biggles goggles and they were away and we were all left wondering if we’d ever see him again or infact what condition he’d be in of he did make it back.

Badia a Coltibuono is a beautiful estate in Chianti which produces great wines and boasts one of Italy’s oldest and finest gourmet cooking schools. We parked all our cars in the inner courtyard and they only just fit (see pic)  Almost as soon as we finished parking, Gareth arrived to take his customary position squatting in a manly fashion beneath the now open bonneted E Type to check what was happening. We split into two groups and went our separate ways on guided tours of the gardens and the magnificent house which was once a monastery. Both groups then met again for a delicious lunch. The sun was really hot and we all sought shade in the garden beneath this incredible magnolia tree as we sipped our soft drinks and devoured our lunch. A most warm welcome was enjoyed by us all. Thank you Badia a Coltibuono. We will be back.

When the time came, we exited the courtyard through the regal arched gateway, pipping and tooting our horns and waving goodbye to our marvellous hosts. We headed back out onto the roads of Chianti following our road books back to Florence. Dinner that evening was at the hotel and the excitement about the next day at Monza was clear for all to see (more on that next time) The service van performed their last checks and thanks to a generous Florence Mini Club member who managed to find a fan for team 7 (aka: always hot and bothered) Gareth, Rog and Jono worked till pretty late putting it in its rightful place…. so far so good.

We will return to Florence one day for it really is a magnificent city. Our friends from the Florence Mini Club who coincidentally host the 2013 International Mini Meeting, were sensational in their support and friendship. I know we will work with them again on subsequent editions of the Italian Job. Grazie mille ragazzi!

So there we have it… another day gone and another city to say goodbye to…. Monza beckons now and all our heads are firmly focussed on that.

Day two of our road book took us deep into the hills to a place of mythical qualities where a bridge called Alidosi stands majestically. The apex of ‘Ponte Alidosi’ un-feasibly severe and often causes screams and yelps from Jobbers who attempt the ascent and descent. New traffic flow control lights have been placed at both ends of the bridge approach road now so as to avoid unpleasant exchanges between cars and their occupants who meet at the apex! The only problem is that not many Italians respect the lights…. and it pains me to acknowledge that some of our mob similarly felt that red did not apply to them!

From Alidosi our we wound our way along a particularly winding stretch of stunning yet stomach churning roads. Being surrounded by beautiful rolling countryside was sadly not enough to prevent the 16 year old constitution of Jono from giving in. Brings back such sweet memories of Paola being unwell in previous years…. Our route ended at a delightful Agriturismo hidden so far off the road that most teams felt sure they had gone wrong. A hearty Emilia Romagna luncheon of hand-made delicacies filled our bellies nicely. The return to Imola was less twisty and so by the time all teams had arrived and parked their cars for the night it was very nearly beer o clock!

We enjoyed our final evening at the Molino Rosso and I think most people had a pretty early night. My throat started to feel like I’d been chewing razor blades all day and convinced I’d contracted some nasty Italian strain of Asian flu, I retired to bed at 9.30pm remembering to turn my watch back one hour to mark the arrival of Winter.

Service Crew News Update: A brief interlude to appraise you of mechanical issues

Till now the service van had been kept pretty busy thanks to 3 of our teams who insisted in giving them as much business as possible. I’m beginning to think I should park these three cars close to one another when we stop anywhere to reduce the wear and tear on Service crew Gareth’s legs! The first is team 7, Gary and Adam from Aberdeen who had and still have recurring over-heating issues. The second is Doc B. and Emily (his daughter) in the 1971 E-Type which just cannot seem to hold it’s water. The third is Stephen and Lusan Li from Toronto who are driving the VAUXHALL engined Mini….No need to say more here really. Other minor ‘mechanicals’ include wiring up a CD player, dealing with the ‘damage’ caused by an exploding can of Red Bull… and playing with the gearbox of the service van which was, according to Gareth, beginning to give him a moment or two of concern!

Next morning we were due to leave at 8am for a pretty straightforward drive to Florence so I woke at 4am thinking it was 6am…. bloody watches! We left and bid a fond farewell to our great friends at the Molino Rosso and headed for a time control in a small town called Scarperia which is just a short hop from Ferrari’s second circuit Mugello. From here we would drive following our road books to an area of Florence called Michelangiolo to meet our chums from the Florence Mini club. The car park at Michelangiolo affords a stunning view over the whole of the city of Florence and is therefore particularly busy.

I arrived first at the Micheangiolo first and I couldn’t quite believe how mad crazy busy it bloody was. There were tons and tons of people all wandering around without a care in the world, oblivious to the traffic of cars, tourist buses which stopped anywhere they liked, horse drawn carriages with dreadfully sad looking horses pulling tourists, demonic devils driving taxis, lunatics riding bicycles, scooters and big fat tyred motorbikes which weaved perilously across all lanes in what I can only think was an attempt to cover every square inch of road. In short, it was bloody chaotic and me being me I began to fret for my poor teams who were about to enter this idiocy.

Our teams steadily started arriving and I waved my red IJ baseball cap as frantically as I could as high as I could in the hope of catching their eyes. Once caught I could thus direct them through the swathes of people to our reserved ‘parc ferme’ where we were joined by around 40 Italian Minis/MINIS. All our teams are colourful and eye catching, elaborately stickered with IJ logos and sponsors messages, so wherever we go we turn heads. Stephen and Lusan turned a few more heads than normal with their arrival, for the literally exploded as the arrived! They’d only overheated but it was a bloody spectacular overheat! There was steam (which looked like thick white bonfire smoke) billowing out from under the bonnet and what looked like thousands of gallons of water gushing out from everywhere….. It was such a sight that tourists on an open topped bus started taking snaps of the Mini and a frantic sounding lady was heard shouting ‘fuoco’ (fire!!!) and even the inconsiderate bikers gave it a wider berth than I’d seen before. I strode up to the passenger door and fighting the effect of the steam I opened it expecting to see Lusan in tears and a state of advanced shock. But no…. the Li’s were having none of that nonsense. I was greeted with a customary smile and nonchalant shake of the head, you know, the kind that says ‘wow…. wasn’t that a lot of fun!’ We got some of our Italian friends to push them through to where Gareth and Roger and Jono were and whoopee….. they were back up and running by the time the convoy left!

The 90 assembled Minis/MINIS left for a convoy through the heart of the city and I must doff my cap here to the Florence Mini Club who achieved the feat without losing one single car. They were awesome and deserved the standing ovation we gave them later at dinner. We arrived in the heart of the city and were heralded in by a fanfare of trumpets and the famous flag throwing, medieval costumed troupe who lead the way to the cathedral with us all in tow. When someone asked which way? I’d simply say, see those flags being chucked about 50 feet into the air?…. follow them.

That evening back at the hotel we held our traditional Italian Job auction, with funds raised destined to the Meyer Children’s hospital of Florence. We raised what I think is a massively impressive £3,250 from a table of bits and pieces which our teams had brought with them. I am massively impressed by the generosity of everyone involved for we are far smaller in numbers this year and yet we managed to raised a still significant amount. Well done everyone.

I fear I must retire now as: the extortionate 60 min WiFi access is about to come to an end, my fingers are beginning to get sore, my beer is getting cold and I’m sure you’re bored by now. I’ll post again tomorrow from Monza and the circuit about our fun and games today.

 A few minor housekeeping points before I recount what occurred at the circuit. 1) The dentist’s visit has clearly  had the desired effect. It seems pain is subsiding and the now pretty obvious swelling is reducing nicely. 2) The domestic seems to have hit a plateau of mutual understanding as during all yesterday I saw no bickering or aggressive head shaking 3) team Lavazza, who have travelled all the way across Europe towing a Mini trailer carrying a heavy fuel efficiency crunching generator and espresso coffee machine with which to keep us fuelled in a caffeine frenzy sort of way, are running out of coffee! Help! 4) I dropped my phone onto the beautiful, very hard and very unforgiving marble floor in the hotel last night and now I slice my fingers with tiny shards of glass each time I swipe the screen… so please… don’t call me 5) TeamVariety Club have, as far as I can work out now left the UK and are drifting across Europe with the aim of joining us in Florence.

Back to Imola Circuit. We arrived and parked the cars in a such a way as to cause all the avid amateur photographers to moan that the picture would have, could have and thus should have looked so much better had we… yawn yawn yawn! We luncheoned in the pits and then assembled (with our cars) on the track for a couple of laps…. We stopped at the Senna monument for a moment or two and reflected whilst admiring the beautiful bronze statue. Back to our cars and a faster lap round the circuit …. Amazing how many GO PRO’s there were strapped to cars… I can feel a You Tube moment coming!

Exiting the ‘pista’ we assembled once more in the massive parking area behind and started the special stages. These stages (3 in total) consisted of simple games in which the driver’s ability, discipline and prowess were not tested in the slightest. Everyone was on an even keel, irrespective of experience or skill. They had upturned plastic cups to squash with their wheels (sounds easy huh?) plates with tennis balls held out of the window by the co driver and a spoon with a tennis ball held out of the window by the driver. All this against a merciless clock which penalised to 100th of a second. Sadly a couple of teams were too busy enjoying the last of the Lavazza coffee to hear the instructions properly and thus did their own thing, culminating in them receiving hefty penalty points. Curiously though, when daily standings were posted later that evening, many of them who ’aren’t taking the competition seriously’ felt it necessary to lodge a complaint!

As the frivolity of the fun and games came to an end, we left Imola Circuit and whilst driving back to the hotel, I reflected that we had achieved a few notable things that afternoon:  1) everyone now knows how to read the roadbook 2) we drove a world-class circuit in our own cars and not many of us have that privilege  3) we established that instructions need to be given either before or immediately after Lavazza coffee time 4) We need to procure more Lavazza Coffee.

Casualties of the day: the service crew rummaged around under a couple of cars fixing a clutch cable on a Vauxhall engined Mini (eh?) and a clutch on a Mini engined Mini…. and in the process got incredibly dirty hands. Lusan Li from Toronto celebrated a birthday so we organised a cake and an impromptu rendition of Happy Birthday.

As soon as I end this blog, I shall jump in a car and zoom off to a picturesque piazza to await the arrival of our teams later this morning. If today is half as much fun as yesterday was at Imola Circuit, then it’s safe to say we’re in for another  great day.

A page from our Roadbook.... Florence to Monza

Day one was blessed with beautiful weather and a blue sky over Imola. We’ve been hearing of terrible weather in other parts of Italy but so far where we are we have little to complain about.

Teams started arrived at the Molino Rosso hotel all day and with them came their tales of adventure, merriment and in some cases misadventure. There was a need to call out an emergency dentist for one of our die hard teams who managed to bring a throbbing toothache with him all the way from middle France.  He also had a hazard relay issue (don’t ask me… I just picked up the term in between his yelps for the dentist) which our erswhile service crew solved without even breaking into a sweat. They were reeling off Mini part numbers with the same dexterity as they would were they telling someone their phone number!

We had one team arrive with the rumblings of a minor ‘domestic’ apparent. Not overly sure what’s been going on but I think the roots are deeply seated in a combination of poor navigation and mechanical ‘nuisances’ (these are apparently perfectly normal knocking noises thet all classic Minis have. Though loud, alarming and repetitive, they are, according to the service crew, perfectly normal). I’m hopeful a reconciliation can be effected for our warring team so that the harmony amongst our ranks can be maintained.

We had quite a few teams arrive in Imola a day in advance of thier predicted and reserved arrival times.   The hotel were excellent and managed to accommodate most of them but it was literally bursting at the seams when the arguing team arrived and thus, almost as if to exacerbate their woes, they were shipped off up the road to a partner hotel for the night. They’re due back in later for the obligatory scutineering, and every fibre in my body is praying they pass.  

The previously mentioned service crew are in fine fettle and have spent much of the previous evening offering informed re-assurances that everything is OK with the cars. There are no shaking of heads or sucking in of air here you know…. Your car will literally need to be in pieces before Gareth, Roger and Jono look even a little concerned. Even though we have fewer teams, I predict a pretty busy few days for the boys…. so we’ll see by Florence how they’re holding up.

Our Teddy Bears made their first appearance last night too and in the process delighted all the other hotel guests including the delegates from a medical conference taking place at the hotel. A number of Italian cardiologists consulting rooms will now be adorned with Italian Job waist coated teddy bears, pullover wearing dogs, scarfed monkeys and other stuffed ainmals…. all of whom display a discreet Italian Job logo!

Had a quick glance too at our 2011 road book (and a long meeting with the Italian Chronometrists) and the routes are looking wonderful. We also reviewed our route through the city of Florence on Sunday and boy it really is in the heart of the city. We’re expecting our numbers to swell to 90 in total so I think we really will be doing an Italian Job in Florence…. I think we’re going to create a traffic jam!

Got to dash now and watch the service crew getting their hands dirty as they scrutineer the cars under the ever watchful eye of Kenjay!

The panic I mention was temporary and caused by an accident on the M25 which according to Chris Evans and Radio 2 caused the M25 to be closed in both directions at precisely the junction which we would be entering it. Luckily we found this out just in time to nip off the M23 and plot a cross country route all the way to Dover. I swear the scaffold lorry in front of us was following us though. He only deviated from our route 8 miles from our final destination. It took us three hours to get there. 

After we managed to get across the water, no thanks to the annual industrial action by Seafrance workers which seems to coincide exactly with the Italian Job each year, we set off from Calais at precisely 1.30pm (local time). Conscious that we were in a GB plated  car and covered with pretty very eye catching stickers, we did our level best to blend in, to avoid unnecessary on the spot fines by zealous Gendarmes, by exceeding the French (dry weather) speed limit by a sensible amount. Thus we were on our way and we knew that at best we were in for a 12 hour stint.

The French Autoroutes are - though it pains me to say – absolutely superb. They manage traffic in road works in a way which we Brits should firstly admire and secondly petition our Roads Minister to adopt. They also manage heavy traffic flow around larger cities in such a fluid way that everything just keeps moving, and it moves at sensible speeds too, not bumper to bumper alla M25!  Yes, French motorways cost but in my humble opinion, it’s worth every penny. In just under 8 hours from Calais we were approaching the Frejus Tunnel and the frontier between France and Italy. We entered the tunnel having paid our not insignificant 36 Euro’s and we owned it! There wasn’t another car or lorry in sight in either direction, it made for quite an eerie feeling. 

As we exited the tunnel in Italy we knew we’d arrived as the roads were far bumpier. We were expecting torrents of rain and bad bad fog but there was none of it at all. It was a beautiful clear evening and though bery dark, the conditions were perfect. We descended towards Turin bumping along the pitted road and went through a series of ridiculous tolls (4 in total) in quick succession each charging no more than 1 Euro 60 cents! I was tempted to register a complaint about the state of the roads, but then figured even the guy in the toll booths had more important things to think about.  

We cleared the traffic of Turin and headed towards Piacenza where we knew we had to turn right and head south towards Bologna.  We were making steady progress towards our Imolese destination by now and the end was in sight. When we began skirting around the city of Bologna we knew that Imola was mere minutes away and I think we started to relax. Perhaps we relaxed a tad too much as we made our one and only mistake of the whole journey which ultimately cost us an additional 10 minutes… Bother! 

We left the A14 at the Imola junction and those who have been here with us before will know what I mean when I say we saw the very welcome sight of the Red Windmill. We arrived and parked and I looked at my watch. It was 1.32am (local time)! As near as dammit to a 12 hour run. Like I said at the beginning; The smoothest run down … ever!

Where else will you see a Service Van doing a lap on the Rooftop test track in Turin?

Though I’ve been here 20 times before on 20 previous editions, my heart is still pounding with the thrill of it all. I can feel myself tensing up just a bit for what will be 10 very long though incredibly enjoyable days. Most of my time will be spent in a car, the pace car or a MINI on loan to us from MINI Italy, dashing between Time Control points and special stages, lunch stops and Piazza’s where our teams will arrive and park. With fewer teams this year, we have a smaller crew, and necessarily so. But I’m more than confident we’ll be able to cover all routes and all check points.

I learned today that we’ll be joined by a large number of Florentine Minis, which is wonderful news, especially as our chosen Italian Children’s charity is the MEYER Children’s Hospital in Florence. Our on the Job auction this year will take place in Florence, so I really hope it’s a cracker and raises lots of money for this epic hospital.

I was talking yesterday with a journalist – oh, listen to me! – and when she asked me to sum up in a few short words what the Italian Job is, I told her this: it is the epitome of a truly social, social motoring event (that’s not a typo or word repetition) which just happens to raise a few pounds on its way. Each year we are blessed with the company of some wonderful people who give their time, energy and passion to raise money for the Italian Job’s chosen charity. In return they enjoy 10 days of adventure, of driving so far off the beaten track that even Garmin and TOM TOM come up blank. I’m off tomorrow at the crack of sparrows to join these hero’s and to begin my Italian Job 2011 Mini/MINI adventure.

Here's one of the 'wonderful' people who support the Italian Job...

Many of you will know that my personal passion for the past 20+ years has been a motoring event called the Italian Job, which I was in some part responsible for creating way back in 1990.  Since then we have traveled every year – with the sole exception of 2010 – in our Minis across Europe with the motto, Raising money for children in a fun way! ringing in our ears. In so doing we (that’s all who have ever participated) have raised and donated over 2 Million pounds to children’s charities across the UK and much further a field too. I have learned a great deal in the last 20 years about fundraising, human nature and our indomitable spirit and dogged determination to apply ourselves to a benevolent cause, with a level of commitment few can question. I am privileged to have been involved with the Italian Job since day one and give what I know is the greatest donation any of us can give to a charitable endeavour…. the gift of time. My circumstances allow me to devote great swathes of time to the organization of the Italian Job and I have never in all these years regretted one second of it. My gift has enabled many to give and in turn their gifts have enriched the lives of thousands of children, young people and their families in ways we can only dream of. All of us are proud of what we do in equal measure.

This year sees our renaissance after 2010 when due to family reasons, the Italian Job was not run.  In 2011 we have fewer teams than we’ve ever had, but I’m excited by the prospect of the next ten days and I’m looking forward to telling you all about it. We’re supporting Variety Club the Children’s Charity and I’m hoping we will be able to give them enough funds to put another Sunshine Coach on the road.

If any participating teams are reading this, then bon voyage and I’ll see you at the start line in Imola in a few days!

IJFreddie