It’s been a pleasure to have a couple of weekends off from Formula 1 after a very intense first half of the season. I’ve been pottering around, doing stuff you do when you are at home. I missed a Green Notebook recently because I had too much work and so I figured that it would be a good idea to post something during this break, even if there is very little really going in the F1 world, despite the breathless attempts of online warriors to create news to keep the virtual world full of virtual news…
During the break, someone asked me about what hobbies I have. I was rather stumped for an answer. I said something about never having time for any hobbies because when I go home, I need to rest and enjoy time with the family, so I don’t really have any hobbies, but for some reason, this made me feel a little weird. Everyone has hobbies… and I tried to think what I would like to be doing if I had more free time.
I remember during the COVID lockdown I tried bookbinding to keep me busy, which was entertaining enough. I had some supplies to repair some old books and was able to use them. I also did a lot of digging in the garden, which was good exercise, as well as being good for the property. Is digging considered a hobby?
I used to read a lot, but reading is what I do a lot of the time for work, so I don’t see it as being particularly different and relaxing.
I’ve never been interested in playing golf, fishing, video games, photography, painting or whatever. Still, having no obvious hobby made me feel somehow deprived. I suppose I might argue that my work is my hobby because it rarely feels like work, and so I don’t need additional activities.
Anyway, as I was pondering this I was looking at the wall in my office and it struck me that historical research has always been something I enjoyed. I’ve done a fair bit of that over time, and written several books as a result. Researching can be considered a job if you find someone to pay you to do it, but for me it’s a state of mind. I’m always looking out for information that interests me, or relates to things I’m looking into. For years I have continued sub-consciously researching the Grand Prix Saboteurs, even if the book was published a long time ago. At some point I need to write a revised version to add in all I have learned. I’m also vaguely researching one of my great-uncles, who was rather unusual in that he was an Englishman who spoke fluent Japanese, fluent Russian and Urdu and had all kinds of adventures working in military intelligence and in the Special Branch. One day when I have a moment, I’ll try to write that story, but I need to skulk around more in archives to discover more about what he was up to… if indeed such information still exists.
On the wall in front of me as I was mulling over all this was a strange souvenir from 100 years ago. I found it while pottering about in a brocante not far from where I live in France, a few years ago. It was in a frame but covered in dirt and dust, and I had no idea what it was. It was entitled the Banquet des Champions and was clearly related to motor racing. The thing that got my attention was the list of names. There were so many names I knew. I bought it for next to nothing and took it home and cleaned it up.
It required a bit of detective work to figure out the story, but in the end I discovered that for a number of years in the 1920s there was an annual dinner for the stars of motorsport, funded by François Repusseau, who was a man of many talents. He had started out as a designer with Delage and then transformed himself into a supplier of automotive parts, which he imported from the United States. This made him very wealthy. He was also a rally driver, notably in 1925 when he and his wife won the Monte Carlo Rally in a Renault (wacky, but true).
You can see the list for yourself, but there were more than 170 attendees and they really were the crème de crème of the motor racing world, including almost all the Grand Prix drivers of that year and dozens of Le Mans competitors. Some of the spelling is a bit dodgy, but it was an incredible gathering of talent, far better attended than the gala dinners of the modern age. I guess this is because there was more of a sense of fraternity amongst the stars in those days.
Afterwards, each attendees was presented with a hand-coloured etching to remember the event, with their photograph carefully glued into the crest at the top.
I had discovered one of these rare souvenirs and, of course, I wanted to know the identity of the face on my version. It was back to being a detective again. In the end, having worked my way through the list, I concluded it had belonged to Charles Flohot, who raced at Le Mans in that era, with the Aries company. There is not much known about him today, except that he had worked as a mechanic with Delage and Guyot and got into racing as a result. He died a couple of years after the dinner, in his late thirties, but I have yet to discover what happened to him. Perhaps someone out there knows more…
Anyway, the next time someone asks me about hobbies, if they ever do, I will say two things: I love to nose around in brocantes, and I love researching stuff.
A lot more fun that golf.
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