On the Tarmac at Shannon Aerphort
The Philosopher has eleven hours to kill, and he's got a Mini.
Expanses of green, good earth spread before my eyes as Aer Lingus flight one-twenty-something touched down in Shannon Aerphort in western Ireland on a fresh Monday. The tarmac was lustrously shiny, following one of Ireland’s famous 5-Minute Downpours. The timing was exceptional; the perfect start to what I hoped would be a perfect two weeks. I was arriving the morning before the rest of my company to collect our cars and make preparations for the journey. My itinerary went something like this:
Depart from Los Angeles: 8:00 am. Arrive at Newark International Airport. Depart Newark 7:00 pm, as the sun sets. Fly across the pond, head-on into the sun, and arrive in Ireland at around 7:00 AM. Jostle my way through customs, take care of formalities, eat breakfast for the second time “today”, and wait for the cargo plane to arrive at 8:30 am from Baltimore. (Don’t ask why the Publication didn’t just have the Minis sent over straight from the factory in Oxford.) Walk out on the wet tarmac, and help unload the three little mites from the gut of a monstrous cargo jet. Great! Now I have three cars on my hands, and eleven hours to spare before the rest of the crew arrives. What to do?
I decided to choose my Mini and go for a recon mission in the surrounding area; and find some victuals and lodging before the party arrived. The next two weeks would be a “wing-it” assignment; ergo, the Publication hadn’t made any arrangements save for the overseas shipping, an overnite hanger for storage, and finance. We all agreed that to get a feel for the country, we should mix it up, make mistakes, and break as much conventional tourist protocol as possible.
I had my pick of three Minis, all the same, save for color. The choices: fire-truck red, banana yellow, or British racing green. I chuckled at my “early bird gets the worm” good fortune and jumped into the green one. There is something simply irresistible about a Mini Cooper S in British racing green, with white bonnet stripes and driving lamps. It can truly make kids happy at petrol stations.
I get myself all comfy in the Mini’s gloriously cozy interior, and press the Button. Yes, the new 2007 Mini comes with a Button. Just like its competitors, the Ferrari F430 and the Bugatti Veyron, the Mini has an on/off tapper, and it is tons of fun to press. I jiggle the shifter knob for feel, and then plunge it into first. Heck, yes. That works.
Something that bothered me a bit was that our Minis were American models fitted with temporary Irish licenses; therefore the steering column was on the left. It is a pain in the arse to drive on the left side of the road with the steering column on the left. It feels wildly unnatural, compared to how driving on the right side of the shifter knob feels wildly natural. Odd as it is, driving in the British Isles feels easier and more...well, correct than driving on the right side of the road. But, alas, we were fitted with leftist Minis, but it was a small irk that was colossally overshadowed.
The new Mini Cooper has that perfect amount of refinement and funkiness to please any discriminate auto enthusiast. If Steve Jobs were to design a car, he would come out with something very similar to the Mini. (Only the entire center console would have to be removed and replaced with an iPod click wheel.) And not only is it stylishly brilliant, but its engineering and driving is truly in a class of its own. Except the fact that the power window controls are in the center console, I can’t really think of anything wrong with the Mini. Yet. I still had two weeks of hardcore driving to put it through.
The Philosopher has eleven hours to kill, and he's got a Mini.
Expanses of green, good earth spread before my eyes as Aer Lingus flight one-twenty-something touched down in Shannon Aerphort in western Ireland on a fresh Monday. The tarmac was lustrously shiny, following one of Ireland’s famous 5-Minute Downpours. The timing was exceptional; the perfect start to what I hoped would be a perfect two weeks. I was arriving the morning before the rest of my company to collect our cars and make preparations for the journey. My itinerary went something like this:
Depart from Los Angeles: 8:00 am. Arrive at Newark International Airport. Depart Newark 7:00 pm, as the sun sets. Fly across the pond, head-on into the sun, and arrive in Ireland at around 7:00 AM. Jostle my way through customs, take care of formalities, eat breakfast for the second time “today”, and wait for the cargo plane to arrive at 8:30 am from Baltimore. (Don’t ask why the Publication didn’t just have the Minis sent over straight from the factory in Oxford.) Walk out on the wet tarmac, and help unload the three little mites from the gut of a monstrous cargo jet. Great! Now I have three cars on my hands, and eleven hours to spare before the rest of the crew arrives. What to do?
I decided to choose my Mini and go for a recon mission in the surrounding area; and find some victuals and lodging before the party arrived. The next two weeks would be a “wing-it” assignment; ergo, the Publication hadn’t made any arrangements save for the overseas shipping, an overnite hanger for storage, and finance. We all agreed that to get a feel for the country, we should mix it up, make mistakes, and break as much conventional tourist protocol as possible.
I had my pick of three Minis, all the same, save for color. The choices: fire-truck red, banana yellow, or British racing green. I chuckled at my “early bird gets the worm” good fortune and jumped into the green one. There is something simply irresistible about a Mini Cooper S in British racing green, with white bonnet stripes and driving lamps. It can truly make kids happy at petrol stations.
I get myself all comfy in the Mini’s gloriously cozy interior, and press the Button. Yes, the new 2007 Mini comes with a Button. Just like its competitors, the Ferrari F430 and the Bugatti Veyron, the Mini has an on/off tapper, and it is tons of fun to press. I jiggle the shifter knob for feel, and then plunge it into first. Heck, yes. That works.
Something that bothered me a bit was that our Minis were American models fitted with temporary Irish licenses; therefore the steering column was on the left. It is a pain in the arse to drive on the left side of the road with the steering column on the left. It feels wildly unnatural, compared to how driving on the right side of the shifter knob feels wildly natural. Odd as it is, driving in the British Isles feels easier and more...well, correct than driving on the right side of the road. But, alas, we were fitted with leftist Minis, but it was a small irk that was colossally overshadowed.
The new Mini Cooper has that perfect amount of refinement and funkiness to please any discriminate auto enthusiast. If Steve Jobs were to design a car, he would come out with something very similar to the Mini. (Only the entire center console would have to be removed and replaced with an iPod click wheel.) And not only is it stylishly brilliant, but its engineering and driving is truly in a class of its own. Except the fact that the power window controls are in the center console, I can’t really think of anything wrong with the Mini. Yet. I still had two weeks of hardcore driving to put it through.
posted by J.L.D at 4:06 PM
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