After fifty or something laps of pushing the car to the limit....after an hour and a half or so of blistering speed..... I can but imagine how torturous the ride back to the hotel must be for the drivers. After driving the 300kmph car, the 40kmph ride must feel like going in slow motion.

I still remember after the jam-packed streets of Mumbai when I went to my hometown, it took me a while to adapt to the open roads and silent streets. The ride from airport to home was at the least weird. After six months of watching cars go bumper to bumper, I couldn't bring myself to the thought of maintaining a five hundred odd metres gap from the car up front. The nearest car was a speck in the rear view mirror. And my dad was driving at 20kmph at 40kmph area and he was pissed at all the slow drivers he was overtaking..... I wonder at what speed they were going.....

They had a look on their face that says "Got to pay attention.... Have to keep my eyes on the road..... Or else I may crash.... into that dot.... way over there!"

Imagine how irritated the F1 drivers would be on the way to the hotel. Every time a car over takes him, he must feel like jumping out of his seat and whacking the driver with a newspaper for not blocking the guy. The car turns a corner and enters an empty street and in the back of his head a voice goes "Accelerate! Accelerate! ACCELERATE!" but the driver doesn't. The driver keeps to the speed limit driving casually down the road with the f1 driver in the back seat pulling his hair out.

The car pulls up at a red light. The f1 driver has his gaze fixed on the timer as it counts down 89.... 88.... 87.... And soon enough the timer hits zero and..... the driver casually puts the car into gear and his foot slowly moves towards the accelerator. The agony of waiting is overwhelming. Our hero in the back seat almost has a heart attack from the anticipation. This is cruelty to race drivers everywhere.

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