From my room I spot a bright yellow Boxster floating on the swimming pool (pretty sharp of me eh?) and bathed in the most glorious early evening light. The light is too gorgeous for words, so after shooting the Boxster, I leave the others ‘refreshing’ themselves and take a leisurely promenade toward St. Tropez harbour. And trés jolie it is too.
Quaint old buildings? Check.
Seagulls in an awesome orange sunset? Check.
Fisherman returning home on beautiful still waters? Check. I reckon St. Tropez must be the patron saint of post card manufacturers.
The evening ends with a chat with Walter Röhrl – as you do – who was there to tell us about the 981 and the roads we’ll be driving on the following day, some of which once made up a Monte Carlo Rally stage. I cheekily ask him if he’d mind driving me through the stage, but he tells me he’s leaving the next morning and politely declines. Clearly he’d researched my co-driving abilities.
The next two days are a hedonistic mix of fast cars, twisting mountain roads, French cuisine, pretty PR girls and an impromptu birthday party for Mitja Borkert, the head of the design team responsible for the 981. The latter involves the hotel’s Ice Bar and a group of South American journalists, but for some reason the exact details escape me.