Singapore: Noel Gallagher at the Singapore Grand Prix

Not long ago while living in Washington DC, we drove to Boston (with our Flossie who had flown from England) to see Oasis. We camped the night before the concert and met a rather sweet skunk – although the other campers were less charmed by its presence. While travelling to the venue on the following morning, we noticed that the town seemed very quiet. The band, we later learned, had cancelled the concert due to a car accident. We spent the weekend looking at rather dull stuff about pilgrims instead. Although our money was eventually refunded, we felt as if the band owed us something.

Today was the chance for one of the Gallaghers to repay the debt at the Singapore Grand Prix. We sat on the rather scabby lawn of the The Padang with beer in hand as Noel bashed out a few tunes from High Flying Birds to a wildly excited audience (I exaggerate – a lot). Although the ending of ‘Wonderwall’ sounded like the piano was being hit with stick, the mixture of old and new songs more than compensated for the missed concert in 2002. It was a shame we could not have stayed until the end of the set but we needed to walk to our seats on the other side of the circuit – unfortunately several thousand other people had the same idea.

Dripping with sweat, we stood like herding cows near a gate as the cars started to warm up creating the most phenomenal noise that rattled the rib cage. Eventually, after a bit of a detour due to less than helpful staff, we reached our seats as the race began. Despite having only a small screen on the other side of the track and commentary that was drowned out by the sound of the cars, we sat for two hours gripped by the race. The bloke with the diamond earrings ground to a halt after a few laps leaving Jensen Button to continue our hopes of seeing our local home team in England on the podium. Our expensive Mclaren hats and shirt purchased from the showroom yesterday must have helped (have you seen the MP4-12?  – nice).

After the race and obligatory fireworks, we shuffled towards exit 1 as Bananarama belted out a few songs that few people in the audience would have recognised. The marshals waved us goodbye as we walked through the gate to board one of the buses to Lavender MRT. Moments later, with typical Singaporean efficiency, we were sitting in air conditioned comfort as the train rumbled home.

‘When is the Malaysian Grand Prix?’ Mrs M later asked.