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jamminvroomvroom · 2 years ago

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you bring blue lights. part 3

ln x fem!reader

read part 1: a golf swing and a trampoline

read part 2: karma rules!

FINAL PART! i hate it! what else is new? hopefully this wraps things up nicely. thank u for the luv on the other two parts, biiiiiig hugs from me to you MWAH xoxox note: heads up, the max in this series is max fewtrell lmao.

song: little freak by harry styles

in which lando goes back to work and takes you along for the ride. and max is there too. because why wouldn’t he be?

warnings: 18+ pls!! nothing major tbh, smut (mostly implied), bit of angst, bit of fluff, language, anxiety, the worlds most minor f1 incident, max being a snarky little bitch (affectionate)

4.8k words

the colour blue can symbolise many things: bravery and healing. the calm. wisdom and depth. sadness and serenity. permanence.

you weren’t sure what to make of the weather in bahrain. it wasn’t too hot, nor was it cold, but lando was still wearing a hoodie nonetheless. you sat in the passenger seat of the rented volvo, the mild temperature unable to reach you here, especially not with the quadrant hoodie draped over your shoulders. you wanted to shrug it off, the material that once symbolised an unbreakable friendship now resting uncomfortably, a weight, a reminder, but you were there to support your boyfriend, in his every endeavour.

your eyes could have watered, but you blinked, uncontrollably almost, refocusing your gaze onto the centre console, where lando’s large hand held yours. he squeezed once, twice, drawing your eyes from your laced fingers onto his.

you realised then that he’d been murmuring your name, his eyebrows furrowed, concerned. the last thing he needed to worry about today was you. it was quali day in bahrain, the first of the season, and you were sat next to a man on a mission. pull yourself together, woman. you smiled, your lips stretching unconvincingly, the corner of your mouth twitching. this couldn’t be classed as anxiety anymore, it went far beyond that. he sighed, deflated already.

“listen, if you’re not ready to do this…”

“i am. i am!” your voice was abnormally high pitched, and lando wondered where his cool as a cucumber girlfriend had gone. you hated the worry that clouded his sky-grey eyes.

it was your first time in the paddock, and naturally, you were a wreck. a picturesque mess. you’d picked out a nice outfit, something that made you look put together without trying too hard, classy without looking like you were leeching off of lando. you knew what they’d say about you, otherwise. they were already saying it. he’d tried his hardest to keep you hidden but the internet was ablaze with theories and questions and lies and judgement, so he’d suggested that you come to bahrain, viewing it as a perfect opportunity to break the ice with the media and the fans.

it had been finalised and you’d been mentally preparing yourself since the moment you’d decided to attend. but when he turned up to your apartment one day after a meeting, an anxious, babbling mess, you wondered if you’d made a mistake.

it turned out that the bahrain grand prix was a team quadrant event.

with your ticket booked, you’d chosen to suck it up, business as usual, but the idea of a weekend caught between two men that hated each other was not your idea of a good time, especially not when you were the problem. the morning that max had caught you, bare legged and lovesick in lando’s kitchen, would probably haunt you as long as you lived.

lando was angry and max? max was furious. now, they’d both just gone cold.

there was a stillness in the kitchen, ice cold all of the sudden, all of the warmth of you and him gone. you felt like a child caught in the act, nowhere to run. lando looked pale, afraid, utterly distraught. your eyes flicked between him and max, waiting for the dam to break; who would crack first? you couldn’t bare it, lips parting in a whisper.

“max-“ you barely heard yourself but max heard you perfectly, melancholic disgust in his eyes as they flitted to you. you felt small. you felt sick.

“don’t.” he barked. you sunk into yourself, shaking slightly. lando didn’t like that, stepping forward.

“listen to me, we-“ lando started.

“don’t you fucking dare.” max took a deep breath, shaking his head as if to compose himself. it wasn’t working. his eyes glazed over. “you’re not even sorry, are you?” he was looking straight at lando now, as if you weren’t even there.

lando’s lack of response spoke volumes. max cracked, a mixture of disbelief and disappointment shining through the rage. you held your breath. max turned to you, searching for solace, remorse, anything. you looked away.

“you two deserve each other.” max spat.

the slamming of the door made you wince.

lando felt selfish the second you touched down in bahrain. he watched your leg bounce on the plane, in the car, sat on the edge of the hotel bed, and wondered if this was all too much too soon. he needed you, but did you need this? the media, the fans? him? he ached watching you stare at your intertwined fingers sat on the centre console, your eyes glistening.

he was so, so selfish, a point proven over and over, and you were everything but. you were here, living proof of the fact.

the quadrant hoodie you wore, the bright blue contrasting with how you’d paled the second he’d parked the car, reminded lando of his crimes. you were blue, too, his calm amongst the chaos, an ocean that he thanked every god he could think of that he got to explore. you were a serenity, a serendipity, his bright blue light that kept him grounded.

if he’d ever doubted it before, he knew he loved you, completely and utterly, when you took a deep breath and got out of that car.

you let lando lead the way, a few steps ahead. you wondered if he could feel you shaking. you let go of him briefly, to scan your pass and slide through the gate, but he was reaching for you instantly. his thumb rubbed the soft skin of your hand, soothing you as the flashes of the cameras began to creep in the further you made it in to the paddock. you stared ahead, keeping your face as neutral as possible, letting him tow you along.

you stumbled when he stopped to take a picture with a fan, signing another’s hat, taking the moment to gather yourself. you became all too aware of your surroundings, the sheer amount of cameras pointed in your direction making you nauseous. as your hard exterior began to crumble, you felt his arm hook over your shoulder, a firm kiss planted on your forehead as you fell into step beside him once more.

“you got this, baby.” he murmured. you couldn’t help but smile up at him, finally feeling a small sense of ease. lando smiled back at you, and suddenly you wanted to frame every single stupid pictures they were taking of you both.

“so do you.” you grinned. he smiled bashfully. you knew how much this weekend meant to him.

you made your way into the mclaren hospitality, keeping close to lando. you sighed, relieved to be away from the cameras, and he introduced you to some members of his team, letting you make small talk while he spoke to his engineers.

you were intrigued watching him fall into the zone, calm, at ease, immersed into his world. you didn’t miss the way he kept an eye on you as he made his rounds. he ushered you over, pulling you deeper into the building, greeting people along the way. soon, you found yourself being led into his drivers room.

lando placed his bag on the table, small smile on his face as he moved around the room. you hoisted yourself up onto the massage table, swinging your legs, content in just watching him in his natural habitat.

“what are you smiling about, hmm?” you asked, eyebrow quirked.

“just you, being here. it’s nice.” he crossed the room and closed the gap, hands smoothing over your thighs as he parted them to stand between your legs.

“i like seeing you like this, you know. like watching you.” you placed your hands over his.

“oh, i know, love. always catch you staring.” he smirked.

“in that case, maybe i’ll just go back to the hotel.” you turned your head dramatically, leaning away from him.

“don’t be like that, you’d be lonely in that big bed without me.” he teased.

“i’m sure i could find a way to entertain myself.” you smirked at him, a frustrated groan emitting from the back of his throat as he grinned down at you.

“you’re cruel.” he murmured, giving into his desire and closing the gap.

you smiled against his lips, gripping hard at the material of his hoodie to pull him closer. his hands moved over the crease in your thighs, pulling at your hips as he kissed you harder. you threaded your fingers through his curls, tongue brushing his bottom lip. you enjoyed the noises he made, the low hum that vibrated against your mouth. your flushed body ran cold at the sudden rattling of the door handle.

you had no time to react when the door swung open, jon nonchalantly walking in, talking over his shoulder to a tired looking max and niran. your blood ran cold, hit by a sickening sense of deja vu that had you burying your face in lando’s chest. you felt lando vibrate as he cleared his throat, jon stopping in his tracks.

“shit.” jon grimaced, realising. “sorry, i- we didn’t know you were in here, someone said you were in the garage, didn’t mean to walk in on you like, uh, this.” he rambled awkwardly. a scoff from somewhere behind him made lando tense up, your eyes squeezing shut in discomfort.

“not like it’s the first time.” max muttered.

“i just came to pick up your schedule, sorry mate.” jon quickly cut in. you dared to look, peeking out from lando’s hoodie. niran was staring at the ceiling, quite clearly wishing he was somewhere else. you wished you were there too. max had his arms crossed, looking around the room. you couldn’t work out why he’d come in here.

max caught you staring, eyes hardening immediately as he took in the way your fingers curled into the material of lando’s hoodie, of lando’s hands on your hips. you could visualise the flashbacks he must have been having. he turned on his heel, leaving without another word, and you sighed. niran threw you a sympathetic smile, awkwardly waiting for jon who’d finally found the paper he was looking for, and then you and lando were alone again.

you looked up at him, noticing the way his jaw was tensed, the way his eyes had darkened, cold all of the sudden. he didn’t need this kind of stress, not when he was hours away from getting in the car. this season had no room for error, not when his new teammate was tipped to perform well, not when he was the new leader. you wondered if your being there was right.

“hey, its okay. maybe i should just go back to the hotel today, hm?” you suggested softly. his dark expression switched to one of vulnerability.

“no, no. you shouldn’t have to leave because he can’t be a grown up.” lando shook his head, frustration evident in his tone.

“you’ve got an important day ahead, babe. last thing we need is you being surrounded by all this,” you gestured around the room. “negativity.” you reasoned. his face fell further, hands moving to cup your cheeks.

“none of this is your fault, okay? you’re the only one i want here. let him sulk. i tried to fix it and he wouldn’t have it.”

“we hurt him, lando. it is my fault.” you averted eye contact as you spoke.

“hey, look at me. look at me.” you met his eyes again, which had warmed up significantly as he gazed at you. “i want you here. i need you here. don’t let him get to you. he’ll be doing work stuff anyway, you’ll hardly see him. i want you to be a part of his, okay? try and have some fun.”

you sighed, realising that your desire to be near lando, to support him, outweighed the guilt you felt towards max. after all, as cruel as it may have been, that’s why you’d chosen lando. that’s why you were here, every discomfort that you felt pushed aside. you nodded your head, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“now, i need to get changed. try not to stare too much, darling.” he pecked your lips, tension melting away as the smirk returned.

you pushed him away playfully, choosing to scroll through your phone as he started to prepare himself, letting your eyes wander occasionally. he’d wink every time he caught you looking.

despite the blush on your cheeks and the smile you couldn’t contain, you couldn’t help the bad feeling that crept in, lurking at the corner of your happiness. this would be a long weekend.

lando busied himself with his race suit, changing quickly. every time he looked up, throwing you a wink, he pretended that he wasn’t spiralling. he could see you thinking too hard, worrying, acting like you weren’t. all he wanted was for you to have a nice time with him, experience something so important to him, and already that idea, that visual of you becoming a bigger part of his world, it was crumbling all around him.

he let himself be angry at max sometimes, framing him as the source of your anxiety, but that was just a pitstop he made before he placed the blame back where it belonged; this was all lando’s fault. but this mess, this chaos, this love? he was willing to pay for his mistakes forever if it meant that every race weekend started and ended in your arms.

and so, lando did what lando did best. he kissed his girlfriend, got in his car, and made his way into Q3.

lando had qualified well, better than what had been expected, hugging you right when he’d bounded into the garage. you’d been surprised at how nervous it made you, watching him drive out of the garage and onto the track. you found yourself unable to take your eyes off him on the screen ahead of you, nails chewed down anxiously for the entire session. you clung to him, letting out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. you allowed yourself to kiss him, just a quick peck, settling.

you let him leave once more, comforted by the fact that his biggest danger now was the media that awaited him, and navigated yourself out of the garage. you couldn’t pretend you weren’t a little bit lost in the winding corridors, but finally you stumbled out of the tunnel, the one your boyfriend always tapped the top of, a superstition, and into the sunlight. you hovered in the entrance, staring out at the bustle of the paddock.

it felt so surreal, overwhelming to be here for lando. with him, at last. you just couldn’t seem to shake the fear you felt watching him get in the car. the thought of the impending race made you nauseous.

as you stood there blocking the entrance, lost in your thoughts and the complexities of your relationship, you were reminded of the only hurdle it faced, at the unimpressed clearing of someone’s throat.

you turned quickly on your heel at the noise, snapped out of your thoughts. you gulped.

“can i get past, please?” max asked, refusing the eye contact that you were desperately trying to make. you didn’t miss the way his eyes rolled at the sight of the blue quadrant hoodie covering your frame.

“i should probably let you, shouldn’t i?” you smiled, weakly, a feeble attempt at breaking the ice.

all max did was nod ever so slightly.

“will you talk to me?” you took note of just how pathetic you sounded.

“i can’t, i have somewhere to be.” he said, quiet with emotion, careful with his tone.

“just a minute, please max.” he flinched at his name falling from your traitorous tongue.

“i can’t do this right now.” he tried to side step you, but you blocked him.

“i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry. if you believe anything, believe that.” you begged.

“i don’t know what to believe anymore.”

you didn’t fight him again, defeated as you watched him walk away.

you seemed different when lando found you later after the media rush, in the quiet of the paddock. you seemed sad, although you kept it carefully concealed. he noticed the way you held his hand tighter, kissed him softer. he wanted to get you out of the paddock, away from it all, take you back to the hotel where he could touch you and hold you and take away this dull pain.

he prayed that you weren’t getting too blue, that you wouldn’t go cold in his presence, the more you adapted to the bittersweet realities of his lifestyle.

he wondered if his anxieties were misplaced when you kissed him with everything you had and tumbled into the white bed linen with him, burning for one another.

lando reminded himself that you were still here. he knew all too well that you didn’t stay for just anyone.

lando looked beautiful when he was asleep. he was always so busy, always on the go, so you cherished these mornings dearly. a stream of sunlight made its way over the sheets, creeping up his body, bathing him in warmth. you hadn’t shut the curtains properly, urgently falling into bed with him, but you were thankful for it now as he stirred. the only thing better than watching the soft rise and fall of his chest was watching him wake up.

his eyes fluttered open, his arm stretching out and over your waist. you gazed at the blue-green of his eyes, rolling over and into his side. you pressed a kiss to his shoulder, engulfed by the heat of his bare skin pressed against yours. you stayed there quietly, letting him wake up.

suddenly, he let out a groan, rolling on top of you, curls falling in his eyes. you’d told him one night in dubai, after a cocktail too many, that he should grow his hair out. you’d whispered something seductive in his ear about having more to pull on. he’d quickly taken you back to your suite, and happily obliged with your request ever since.

you’d spent last night in a similar situation, pouncing on him immediately when you’d gotten back from the track. a day spent watching him drive had riled you up, and paired with your neediness, you were gagging for it by the time you got him alone. lando pulled you out of your daydream with a kiss, his body melting into yours.

“what’s on your mind?” his voice was low, gravelly from where he’d just woken up.

“nothing, just thinking.” you mused. he leaned in closer, lips brushing yours.

“about what? because i’m still thinking about last night.” lando murmured. you smiled coyly up at him.

“why? what happened last night?” you faked confusion, eyebrow raised.

“this beautiful woman could not keep her hands to herself.” lando feigned shock.

“that must have been so difficult for you.” your voice oozed sarcasm.

“it was very hard.” he grinned, devilish, leaning down to kiss you again.

you could feel the press of his body, every inch of his warm skin against yours. your hand slid softly across his face, brushing his curls back, tugging gently at the strands as his lips left yours and trailed down your jaw.

the air got hotter, charged, when he nipped at your neck, your collarbone, and dug his fingers into your hip, kneading your soft edges. your mouth hung open, panting slightly in anticipation, skin alight as his hand worked across the crease of your thigh. lando gripped your inner thigh, spreading you open, letting his fingers run rampant.

he continued to mouth at your shoulder, biting down gently as he found your clit, the medley of pleasure and pain making your eyes roll back. the rest of your morning was a blur.

lips on yours, fingers working you open. his name, a prayer. your legs, wrapped around him, numb. sweat and bliss, you and him. your legs shook, vision bleary.

lando was all yours, belonged to you, your name tearing sweetly from the depths of him as he let himself get lost.

you stared up at him, breathless and grinning.

lando had one singular thought when he managed to pull himself from the crook of your neck, languid and tingling. between the chaos and the quiet, you found a way to bring him back to earth, gleaming blue.

i love you.

“are you looking forward to the race?” you’d heard him ask.

it had been quiet for a while, your unrelenting bout of morning sex leaving you a tangled, sleepy mess.

“i don’t know.” brutal honestly seemed to be your forte.

“ouch.” he teased.

“i don’t know how to be okay with watching you.” it was the realest thing you’d said to lando all weekend, mumbled into his collarbone where you hid your face.

“you’ve seen me race.” he shifted, as if he was trying to find your face, your eyes, voice laced with confusion.

“yeah, but that was before.”

“before what?”

“just…before.”

before i knew what you meant to me.

before i broke your best friends heart.

before i fell in love with you.

you spent the duration of the formation lap looking for the nearest exit, telling yourself that you were being ridiculous, and wondering how every other loved one coped every race weekend. to your surprise, max was stood on the other side of the garage. you figured he would have chosen to be anywhere else, but his fingers drumming against the countertop, in an identical fashion to yours, made you wonder if he shared the pit in your stomach.

your eyes flitted around nervously, taking short breaths as the cars lined up on the grid. five lights went on, and then out, and you held your breath.

lando made it through turn one, turn two. through lap one, lap 17, lap 34. he was having a good race, a great one even, the byproduct of a strong start, his race craft and a calculated strategy. you made the mistake of starting to relax.

you gasped when an alpine tagged his car. one hand flew to your mouth, the other gripping the wire of your headphones in sheer, gut-twisting panic. your eyes fixed on the screen, watching him spin, spin, spin across the track. you were frozen, utterly unmoving, time stopping around you until his car suddenly did out on track.

he was fine.

he skidded to a halt, making his way safely back onto the track, carrying on as normal. he was completely, totally fine.

you burst into tears.

you heard the headphones clatter gently against the surface top, a blur through your tears, and quickly left the garage. you blindly made your way through the stupid, little corridors and back into that tunnel that led to the paddock. you slumped against the metal wall, sobbing, no use in wiping your free flowing tears. how were you supposed to do it, to live this life, holding your breath every time lando went to work?

you heard footsteps approaching, a pang of embarrassment flashing in the pit of your stomach that made you want to disappear. you took a shaky breath, wondering how you could possibly escape, when you heard the footsteps coming to a halt, the mystery person stopping. you looked up shyly, blinking away tears. you were shocked to see max was stood opposite you, leant against the wall behind him. he sighed.

“stuff like that happens. he’s fine, you know?” max reassured you. you couldn’t quite believe that he was here, let alone offering you some shred of comfort. the tears made a comeback.

“how do people do this? i barely made it through turn one.” you sniffled, voice cracking.

“you just learn to live with it. that fear that you’re feeling, it never quite goes away. but watching him succeed? it becomes worth it.” max spoke with a quiet admiration, one that made your heart ache. you were reminded of just how human he was.

“what if i can’t do it? the idea of something happening to him…” you trailed off, shaking your head.

“i can’t believe i’m about to say this but,” max sighed once more, reluctant to admit what he’d come to realise. “he needs you here. and i know you, you wouldn’t be doing any of this with him if you didn’t want to. if i believe anything, it’s that.”

you looked down at his words, the echo of yesterdays run-in ringing in your ears. he knew all too well that you wouldn’t be in a relationship that you didn’t want to be in. the guilt crept back in.

“i didn’t mean for any of this to happen the way it did.” your voice wavered.

“well, you can’t help who you fall in love with.” max shrugged.

“what?” your head snapped up to look at him, blindsided by his words. was it so obvious?

“what? you do love him, don’t you?” max asked, confused.

“i, well, we haven’t- i mean, i haven’t-“ you rambled.

“don’t tell me you guys fucked me over for nothing.” max teased. you looked up at him like a rabbit in headlights. he laughed at your expression, and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. you joined in, laughing with him as the tears finally dried up.

“you should tell him.”

“if i do that, are you gonna hate me even more than you already do?”

“i don’t- i could never hate you.” max’s gaze softened. ��and as much as i’d love to right now, i could never hate him, either.” he rolled his eyes.

“talk to him?” you suggested, cautious. max smiled.

“don’t push your luck this weekend.” he grinned. “you ready to go back in there? the race is pretty much over.”

you nodded, smiled, walking alongside him in comfortable silence back into the garage. the team were elated, a decent recovery made after the shambles of last season, but all you could focus on was how desperate you were to see lando. max walked back to the desk where he’d been watching the race, throwing you a reassuring wink. you smiled softly.

max was the first person that lando really saw when he entered the garage. the air seemed to have thinned out, lighter, somehow. he’d ask questions later.

max smiled, small. lando could barely contain the grin he returned the olive branch with.

something clicked, somewhere deep in his chest, and the healing process began. in progress, finally, slowly but surely.

lando inhaled, and for the first time in forever, it felt easy. he almost couldn’t remember what that felt like.

then, lando saw you, a bright blue light, starlike, his beacon, waiting for him in the corner of the garage. he weaved his way through the sea of people until he was secure in your arms.

oscar walked in first, the team cheering him on after his first race. lando followed soon after, getting his own celebration. you watched on, a warmth filling your chest; you knew max was right. you watched lando walk through the garage, met with slaps on the back, ruffles of his messy curls. he smiled wide, wider somehow when his eyes landed on max. it was a welcome surprise, one that drenched you in relief.

lando’s eyes darted around until he found you, catching you staring from the back of the room. he made a beeline to you, engulfing you in a hug. his eyebrows furrowed, confused, perhaps, at your puffy cheeks and red eyes, but your hands flew to his cheeks, lips meeting his. he kissed you back, smiling against your lips. you pulled back, grinning up at him.

“are you okay, sweetheart?” he whispered.

“i’m just so proud of you.” you murmured.

“i’m so glad that you’re here.” he gently squeezed your waist, nose bumping yours.

“i need to tell you something.” your stomach twisted, this time in excitement; butterflies.

“what?”

“i love you, lando.” his whole face changed, his smile bigger than you’d ever seen it.

“i love you.” he replied, cupping your face. his thumbs grazed your cheekbones. “god, you have no idea how much i…” he trailed off, searching your eyes for a moment before he kissed you again, deep and slow. the tears that hit your cheeks weren’t your own, and you held him even tighter.

you broke apart, his head falling into the crook of your neck, hot kisses pressed to the exposed skin. your fingers ran though his hair, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck.

over lando’s shoulder, you could see max, hint of a smile on his face. your eyes watered again, meeting his across the garage, and he smiled, properly.

all the pieces fell, messily, into place.

max watched on, aching at the way you clung to lando, your hands in his hair, lando’s lips pressed so intimately to the delicate skin of your neck. max felt a dull sense of happiness sneak in; you and lando were the picture of what love was supposed to look like. you’d never looked at him the way he’d always caught you looking at lando.

it didn’t hurt any less yet, but he was starting to realise that it would.

thank fuck that’s over

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @turningxstrange @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @organasith @micks-afterglow @blueflorals @juno-1610 @lqvesoph @wilmasvensson @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @h0e-xoxo @mattxxamryli @pjofics

(i’ve removed tags that weren’t working - lemme know if you wanna be added or removed xoxox)

#lando norris #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff #lando norris angst #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 #f1 fluff #f1 angst #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #max fewtrell #max fewtrell fic

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bellaatmclaren · 2 years ago

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Chapter Two // Battle of the Paddock

Within two weeks, Bella found herself packing up her life and getting ready for a trip to Bahrain, to start the first testing session of the year. In those two weeks, Bella had forgotten all about her nerves. She had spent most of those days, side-by-side with Lando and his teammate, Oscar Piastri. She had followed Lando to photoshoots, interviews, suit fittings, to see his new car and everything in between. They had gone for breakfasts, lunches, dinners, coffees, and late-night drinks at bars around London. It hadn’t taken long to form a strong bond of friendship.

Over drinks one evening, Lando had confided in her about his break-up with Luisa. They had only been together for eight months, but Lando had been smitten with the model. It had hurt more when the media had started to report that the split came abruptly after Lando had been ‘exposed’ to sending flirty messages to another woman.

“Honestly, Bells. It’s not what happened. I mean, yes, I did send them but that was after we had split up. There’s nothing wrong with that, was there? I was just messing”.

Bella signed and reached across to place her hand on top of his.

“No, Lando, there isn’t but the media are never going to portray it the boring way, are they? You were single, but if the world didn’t know that at the time, how were we to know any different? And so quickly after the split too, I mean, that would have kicked Luisa where it hurt most.”

Lando nodded slowly, letting out a big sigh.

“I know, I fucked it up more than I should, but I never meant to hurt her. She was my world…”

He stared out of the bar window into the lamp-lit street. Bella could see his eyes glistening, deep in thoughts of regret and pain.

“I know Lando, I know. But onwards and upwards now, hey? Let’s focus on getting you that world championship”.

“You’ve always got your work head on, haven’t you? It’s like being with Charlotte all over again”, he chuckled, hiding the darkness away. “I don’t know if I want to fall in love again, I can’t ever feel that pain again. I don’t think I could carry on. I felt so alone after she left.”

“Lando, don’t say that, please. You’re not alone, I’m right here and I won’t leave you, I promise”.

Bella looked at him a little differently after that night, she saw past the external shell of a playful, cheeky chap to hurt and lonely young boy. A young boy that just wanted something, just once to go his way. She knew he was tired of being the ‘babyface’ of the paddock, but she didn’t want him to lose his sparkle either. That set him apart from the other boys. Bella could tell, deep down he was hurting, badly.

***

It was a late evening of a cold, crisp February day when Bella found herself climbing out of a car and following Lando into Heathrow Airport, ready to catch a flight to Bahrain. She was not looking forward to sitting, cramped in an aircraft for near to ten hours. They did have a slight release in a change in Abu Dhabi, but it still wasn’t going to be ideal. Bella could never sleep on planes, not that she had been on many.

Bella’s mother died when she was just a year old, leaving behind herself and her father. As a single parent, he never had much money to spend on exotic holidays, but that had never mattered to her. They had gone to local beaches, rented caravans, and tents, and just enjoyed the time they had together.

She followed Lando toward a huddled group near the check-in desks. Both Lando and herself were wearing the distinctive, orange McLaren jackets but she didn’t see any more orange in the group.

“LANDO NORRIS! Have you grown this winter? I swear that last time I saw you, you were only up to my armpits.” Laughed a tall man that Bella didn’t recognise.

The group laughed and another taller man stepped forward and put his arm around Lando.

“I do apologise about him, you look amazing,” he said as he released Lando.

Stepping back, Bella recognised this second man as George Russell.

“Lando, who is this lovely companion of yours?”

“Oh, that’s Bella. She’s the new Charlotte!”

“Blimey, you have some work cut out for you then Bella!” George smiled, as he stepped forward to embrace her. “It’s lovely to meet you, I’m George and this joker here is Henry”.

He gestured to the first gentleman who had spoken.

“Nice to meet you, Bella” Henry shook her hand. “Welcome to the crew! I could do with some more faces to chat to whilst these lot abandon us for the track”.

“Thank you, yes please, some company would be brilliant. Apart from a few of the McLaren team and Lando, I don’t know anyone else who will be in the paddock with us. Do you work with George as well?”

Henry laughed.

“He wishes, I’m George’s partner so you could say I’m his emotional support advisor. We all know he likes a little cry now and then.”

“Oh, stop it you” George playfully pushed Henry’s arm.

Lando introduced Bella to the other drivers and their PR advisors stood in the group. She had shaken hands with Pierre Gasly, Alex Albon, and Esteban Ocon. Each who were equally as warm and welcoming as George and Henry.

“I thought there would be more of us here this morning?” Asked Lando.

“Well, Lewis, Max, Lance, Fernando, and the others all jumped on private jets because they’re all far too good for us, slumming it on a commercial airline,” said Alex, rolling his eyes.

“Bella, I am so excited about this flight. You can get to know this lot. Have you ever flown first class before? It’s awesome”

“Lando, Bella probably won’t...” George started.

“They bring you drinks, and posh food and you even get a bed!” Said Lando excitedly, almost jumping up and down like a small child.

“No, I haven’t,” She said, “And I won’t be this time. I’m not important enough for the first class I’m afraid. My ticket is for the usual seats, so you’ll have to enjoy them without me”.

Lando’s face fell.

“What? Show me your ticket”.

Bella got out her phone and Lando read her boarding pass.

“No! That’s not fair, Henry gets to fly with us! Why can’t you?”

“Henry only flies with us because we’ve been together for a couple of years, Lando.” George said sympathetically “the first year, I bought him his ticket and then Williams let me have him, but I had to ask them nicely. Sorry buddy”

Lando looked at Bella, to George, and back in disbelief.

“Excuse me, just one minute,” Lando said as he scooted off, leaving his baggage with them.

“Anyway, Bella. Let us go grab a coffee and you can tell us a little about yourself?” George gestured toward the lounge.

Lando approached the check-in desk. He still had Bella’s phone in his hand.

“Hi, excuse me, sorry to bother you but I was wondering if we could upgrade a seat on this flight?”

“Good evening, Sir. Of course, if I just take some passenger details I can see what I can do for you” Said the smiling attendant, taking the phone from his hand.

“I see, unfortunately, this seat would have to be paid upfront for an upgrade. I wouldn’t be able to charge it to your company.”

Lando scrabbled around in his bag and produced his wallet, opening it and handing the attendant a card.

“Just pop it on this card, it’s fine”

“Thank you, sir, I will do that for you now. Did you want me to put her with you? You have an empty seat in your pod”.

“Yes, please”.

Bella, George, and Henry were deep in discussion about growing up in the Kent area when Lando approached them, looking deeply satisfied with himself.

“What have you done now, Lando?” Asked George, raising an eyebrow. “I do hope it’s not mischievous”.

“Nope, but now, Bella is flying with us in first class!”

Lando tucked his wallet back into the pocket of his bag.

“Lando! You better have not just paid for that…” Bella said, exasperatedly.

Lando just winked at her and sat down amongst them to discuss the upcoming practice sessions.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfiction #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fluff #f1 fanfiction

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sisididis · 1 year ago

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*winks at your from across the continent, very mysteriously and anonymously* rank all the GPs from sexiest to least sexy ;)

I hope you meant the sexiest to least sexy GPs of this season, because they're all I know here they are.

Sexiest — Singapore GP. Why?

Ferrari radio: “Lando 0.8 behind with DRS.” Carlos: “Yeah, it’s on purpose.”

Hands down the SEXIEST team radio of this season, and the most entertaining GP I’ve watched until now. “We know about the bromance, Martin. Sainz and Norris, what a double act they’ve been.” Two former teammates and close friends working together without any prior planning to come out in P1 and P2? And did you see the post-race celebrations? Their embrace against the fireworks and the sea of fans cheering? That image lives rent free in my mind. Singapore GP 2023 will forever live rent free in my mind. My heart was bursting with love for them.

2. Sexiest / Lando Norris leads the British GP — Lando’s home race and my second favorite race of this season. I tuned in just in time to watch Lando’s overtake of Max at the beginning of the race and I’ll never forget the sound of the crowd cheering for him. Then there’s the Budapest (Lando-broke-Max’s-porcelain-trophy-with-his-champagne-popping) GP and Austin.

Suzuka is somewhere between the second tier and “Okay, what damage do you have? Talent.” (these are all Lando catchphrases btw!) because he. did. not. kiss. his. trophy. and neither did Oscar. Ugh! Had he kissed it, Japan would have easily been in the second tier, but now it has been demoted to the third tier.

3. In Mexico, Lando climbed 12 positions from P17 to P5, which in my book is incredibly sexy. Apart from his collision with Checo, which puts Abu Dhabi in the “Chaos? Chaos.” tier, I’d say that P5 is a pretty sexy result.

4. Oh Qatar…Qatar was a rollercoaster of emotions. McLaren won a double podium in the end, but we’ll never forget how HARD Lando was on himself after he got his lap time deleted during qualifying. It broke my heart to see him so down. It's a good thing that he recovered quickly after that.

5. And the least sexy title goes to Las Vegas, Saudi Arabia and Bahrain. Lando’s DNF in LV after that terrible crash was a real heart stopper. Also, he had to pit six times in Bahrain.

Lando and Oscar went from finishing P17 and P20 in the first race of the season to P2 (and P1 for Oscar after the Qatari Sprint). Final result: 10 / 10 sexy season, will root for the same outcome or an even better one in 2024.

#thank you for your question!#i hope i wasn’t too predicable #my entries

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irispropertymanagement · 2 months ago

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When searching for the best real estate agents in Bahrain, IRIS Property Management emerges as a leading option. Renowned for its professional and all-encompassing approach to property management, IRIS has built a strong reputation for excellence in Bahrain’s real estate market. They provide a broad range of services for both landlords and tenants, ensuring smooth transactions and top-notch property management.

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abstravels1 · 4 months ago

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Affordable Car Rentals in Tirunelveli

Tirunelveli is an energetic city located in the southern part of Tamil Nadu state that will provide a unique combination of places of interest, a diverse landscape, and historical sites. For this reason, if you want to cope with the spirit of the city, then having a good rent-a-car service is simply necessary. Car rental in Tirunelveli gives the traveler the opportunity to navigate the city and the rest of the region on their own timeline, not that of the local transportation systems. Self-Drive Car Rentals

Self-drive car rentals are common with tourist car rentals in Tirunelveli. Today, such companies as Onroadz are in a position to provide a wide range of healthy cars, including small cars and larger SUVs, at relatively cheaper prices. With cheaper rates for those who would want to rent for a longer period, self-drive car rental services in Tirunelveli give auto travelers the best opportunity to explore the country’s best sites and other incredible tourist attractions. Car Rentals with Drivers For the laid-back types, there are car rental services in which someone else will drive the car. These services offer clean and safe personal/comfortable transport means in addition to experienced and skilled drivers. Savaari says, for example, that it provides services that entail corporate clients and families who want a hassle-free transport service. Abstravels: Your Trusted Partner for Car Rental in Tirunelveli Out of the prevalent car rental services in the Tirunelveli region, Abstravels sets itself apart from the other service providers due to its presentation of quality services to consumers. As one of the key values of the company, Abstravels offers desirable pricing for car rentals and a wide selection of cars available for renting. Key Features of Abstravels Affordable Pricing: an affordable service fee to enable them to meet the needs of every client. Diverse Fleet: Cars in Bahrain range from those that are relatively cheap to even the most expensive brands in the market. Customer Support: A standby service to support you with any concern or complication during your time of use of the rental. Easy Booking Process: An online platform that will ease the rental process by providing a smooth and easy process. Why Choose Abstravels? For car rental service in Tirunelveli, people can still opt for Abstravels since it is considered to prioritize the demands of its customers. With an emphasis on comfort, convenience, and pocket-friendlyness, your trip to Tirunelveli will be one to remember.

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rayanand01 · 7 months ago

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Luxury Living in Bahrain: Rent an Apartment at Spring Hill 1

Discover the perfect blend of classic Moroccan-inspired design and modern amenities at Spring Hill 1 in Bahrain. With high-quality furnishings, a range of social spaces, and 24/7 hospitality services, it's the ideal urban retreat. If you're looking for property for rent in Spring Hill, this is your opportunity to own a piece of this exquisite development.

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smarttouch-agency · 8 months ago

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Flat for rent in Bahrain: https://www.weetas.com/bh-en/properties-for-rent/apartments-for-rent-in-bahrain.html

#apartments #apartments for rent #flatforrent

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bu1410 · 9 months ago

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Good morning TUMBLR - March 7th - 2024

''Mr. Plant has owed me a shoe since July 5, 1971."

Ch. VIII - 1985- 1989 - Bahrain - Part 5

Me & Andrea - Mauritius Island - Dec, 1988

Me & Andrea - Bali, March 1989.

TRANSFER TO MANAMA After almost two years of living in Awali, COMERINT decided that we would all move to Manama. For this purpose, a newly built apartment building right behind the Korean embassy was rented in its entirety. The building was equipped with all comforts, including a small swimming pool on the terrace, gym in the basement and large, spacious apartments. One big flaw, which we would soon realize: the location about 150 meters from the Great Mosque! Which was equipped with very powerful speakers, so at the end of the two years I would have learned the Muslim prayer. And in any case we lived better in the city, life in Awali was quite boring. Here you could see people circulating, and all the services were close at hand.

BIRTH of my SON I was in Cipriani's apartment during the usual Friday card game with colleagues that I received a call from Italy (maybe my sister?) announcing my son Andrea's premature birth!! Great celebrations, pats on the back, immediately a bottle of sparkling wine was opened to celebrate the event! The next day the Company's travel office booked a flight for me, and in the evening I was already on my way to Italy to meet my firstborn. I saw Andrea for the first time at the Niguarda hospital, inside an incubator: what a thrill!! 1 Kg and 175 grams of tenderness!! He was born prematurely, but was quite well, at least in comparison to his other companions in misfortune - one in particular struck me, a sort of ''chicken'' hanging in a ''crucifixed'' position. They told me that he weighed 750 grams. My wife was quite well too, even if she had a ''changed'' appearance. The long suffering and her injections had somewhat ''inflated'' her face – fortunately all side effects disappeared after a short time. I had to leave back to Bahrain again without seeing Andrea at home, and in any case we promised ourselves that as soon as possible they would come to Bahrain for a long period. In reality they only reached me the following year, given that Andrea had to be constantly monitored for at least a year.

WIFE & SON in BAHRAIN And then one day they finally arrived! Wife and Andrea took little time to integrate, both by making friends in the condo - with Mrs. Battaglia - and than also in the surrounding area. Facilitated by frequenting an adjacent playground, they had met Indian, French and Korean ladies, also with children more or less of Andrea's age. Which was truly a pest when we had to feed himself.

CHRISTMAS 1988 The end of year holidays were approaching, and we decided to take a holiday in Mauritius before returning to Italy. Thanks to my wife's friendship with an Indian lady, Saritha, who worked at an travel agency, the holiday was soon organized. We would have flown to Mauritius for a week's stay, and then from the Indian Ocean island a direct flight would have taken us first to London and than to Milan. The holiday was really nice: we had a bungalow directly on the beautiful beach of the Pirogue hotel. The treatment was first class. There was the opportunity to celebrate Andrea's second birthday, with a beautiful cake prepared by the hotel chef. That evening Andrea was wild, and managed to escape our control. With the help of the hotel staff we eventually found him on the dance floor where the evening shows were held. He had managed - probably with a stone - to break one of the colored lights that illuminated the small stage! I gave a tip to the attendants so that they carefully cleaned the glass from the surface of the dance floor, where later the dancers of the local troupe would perform barefoot. We rented a car and visited the wonderful island: Le Morne Brabant, the colored earths, the botanical gardens, the covered market of Port Louis and the beautiful Ile au Cherf. At the reception of the Tuessrock hotel I saw a blow-up of Prince Andrew and Princess Ferguson. I asked the girl at the counter why that photo was there and she replied:

They spent part of their honeymoon here!

Really???!!! I replied.

Yes……

Eeee……they paid the bill regularly…I mean…….

The girl gave me a reprehensible look and then said: of course not…….

Ah… well…. The Ile au Cherf lagoon is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen

Ile au Cherf - Mauritus

Terre Coloree

La Morne - Mauritius.

HEATROW AIRPORT - LONDON The departure from Mauritus was characterized by a small ''accident''. At the airport during the passport control procedures a immigration policeman told us:

Ok… Sir your first son is here… but where is the second ?

Still planning – I replied thinking he was joking.

I'm not joking Sir… here on the landing documents it says that you arrived with two children, so where is the second child?

Look, officer… there's a mistake… just check our passports… how could we travel with two children if one is marked on our passports?

Ahh…yeah…it's true…. So was there an error by one of our officials when you arrived?

It seems obvious to me… In any case, the incident had put me in a bad mood. A mix-up like this can always cause problems and delays and even cause the plane to be missed. The British Airways flight stopped in Mahé, Seychelles, where the pilot landed so violently that all oxygen masks came off and several pieces of luggage fell from the overhead bins. For the rest everything was fine, in the sense that more than 13 hours of flight with a 2 year old child is not the best.

We landed in London in the late afternoon, and during the transfer from Terminal 1 to Terminal 4 the bus suddenly stopped. The driver turned up the volume on the radio and we learned that Pan Am Flight 103 had crashed over Scotland and there were probably no survivors. For long minutes all airport activity stopped and a thunderous silence descended where a moment before there had been nothing but deafening noises. Than everything re-started working again, but something strange and intangible remained in the air. The looks of the airport workers betrayed anxiety and concern, while increasingly chilling details arrived via the TV screens hanging in the waiting areas. We arrived at Linate around 9.00 pm and took a taxi back home.

FIRE AT METHANOL PLANT About 3 months after commissioning, the methanol plant suffered a first serious accident. Early morning the pre-warning sirens sounded, and all non-essential personnel were evacuated from the plant. The temperatures of the methanol furnace were rising, and the situation seemed to have gotten out of control of the operation's technicians. We took refuge in the Main Control Room, a building designed to protect plant workers even in the event of serious accidents, such as fires or ammonia leaks. The fight to prevent the furnace from catching fire lasted about 6 hours, with the operators trying to lower temperatures and flows inside the methanol plant. Mr. Mangialardi, at that time in charge of the plant, had to change the khaki-colored suit he was wearing several times (also due to the smell it gave off…) In the end the battle was lost, in the sense that the fire broke out between the bellows that connected the oven with the combustion chamber, but the prompt intervention of the firefighters coordinated by Mr. Palmizio - who had had plenty of time to position themselves to the west of the plant , limited the damage of the fire. However, I had the opportunity to see how scary a fire can be when methanol is involved - which, being very volatile, causes that type of flame that is not continuous, but rather ignites and burns in different locations at the same time. And this is why it is very difficult to fight it, given that the foam and hydrants must be continually repositioned. After the fire was put out, the damage was assessed and all in all it was limited. In two weeks of intense 24/7 work we completed the repairs, and the plant restarted.

RANGE ROVER For some time I had noticed a brown Range Rover in the car park of the plant, but I didn't know who it belonged to. One day I finally saw the owner, a young Bahrenite, an employee of the spare parts warehouse. I approached him, and after complimenting him on the car, I asked him if by any chance he was willing to sell the car. At first - like a good Arab - he prevaricated, but than, at my insistence, he showed himself open to a possibility. Within a few days we reached an agreement on the price - around 1.9 million lire (Barely 1,200 USD) I paid him a deposit, promising that we would close the deal the next time I returned from Italy. Was it so, even if we could have missed the last-minute surprise? Certainly not! The Range did not belong to the warehouse worker, he only had it for use, the real owner was a cousin of Emir Issa Bin Khalifa! So on the day of the appointment at the DMV for the transfer of ownership, the 'cousin' was present for the final signature. Great satisfaction on my part, I had an exceptional off-road vehicle at my disposal, even if Bahrain was certainly not a place to make long journeys, but there was certainly no shortage of off-road routes in the desert, such as the one that led to the so-called 'Tree of Life' ' – a gigantic tree in the middle of the desert in the center-South of the island, where there is no other plant or shrub for kilometers.

FINE FOR SPEEDING It was the end of the month, and evidently the Bahrain Police Command had received orders to raise some money to pay salaries. The fact is that many of us left the plant that evening, and on the 4-lane road to Manama we were stopped for over speeding. Those who were stopped for speeding just under 100 km per hour were given the opportunity to pay a fine immediately. Those like me who had exceeded 100 km per hour had their local licenses withdrawn, and were given an appointment the next morning at the Court in Manama. The next day there were around sixty ''guests'' in the Courtroom. After an exhausting wait, the judge finally appeared: an elderly guy, small and dry, with that ''don't bother me'' look common to many Bahrainis. He began the hearing by speaking in Arabic, while the interpreter translated:

You are here because you have broken the highway code of the State of Bahrain, and therefore you will be judged according to the current law… blah blah blah…'' After this long introduction, they moved on to examine case by case, right there in front of us all. The first ''defendant'' Mr. Rossi Aristide, COMERINT HR Manager, was called. Now the Judge spoke English:

Why yesterday at 6.27 pm were you driving your Toyota car with registration number etc etc at 124 km per hour?

Rossi: but you see, Your Honor

Ok…50 Dinars

Rossi: But Your Honor

Ok…60 dinars…. -Rossi: But he really sees….

Ok…70 dinars….

Rossi: …………. Next one.

The scene was repeated 4 times, before it was my turn - and all four times, at a nod from the accused, the Judge increased the fine by 10 dinars. Then came my turn: - So you're here because yesterday at 6.45 pm you were driving a Toyota car etc etc ……

Me: Sorry I don't speak English…….

Judge: 50 dihrams

I…. So I paid 50 dinars (130 USD at the time…) and my license was given back to me.

FRIDAY'S AT EMIR'S BEACH On Fridays in Bahrain, at least from September to April-May (in the summer it was too hot to go to the sea, whose water became boiling hot) we used to go as guests at Emir Sheik Issa bin Khalifa seaside residence, or rather at the beach of his villa. To be admitted onto the Emir's property, the essential conditions were NOT to be Arab. (Or Muslim). The reason given was that it was a security measure, following an attack that the Emir had suffered years earlier by a Bahrenite of Shiite religion. In truth, Shaik Issa didn't want inconvenient witnesses to see him when he wandered around deckchairs and umbrellas (especially on weekdays) to decide which women to invite to have a tea inside his villa. He usually invited two or more Western women, to whom he used to present a watch as a souvenir of the meeting. Once we arrived at the checkpoint at the entrance to the villa and with us there was also Mr. Perez, a Utilities operator, originally from Pozzallo, Sicily. He was looking really like a Palestinian so the Yemeni military guard, who was supposed to be given custody of any camera (I don't know how they do it now with cell phones) asks Mr. Perez:

Arab?

Perez: no Italian

Yemeny: Show your passport

Perez: Ok here it is….

Yemeny: Umm…. ok passport Italian, but you have Arab origin, you cannot enter.

Perez: WTF…. I always enter….

Yemeny: Maybe …but it was a mistake…… There was no way to convince the Yemeni guy, that Friday we all returned home.

Emir's Villa and beach - Bahrain

EMIR'S YATCH The island of Bahrain, like those that surround it, is of coral formation, the seabed around it is extremely shallow - the so-called shallow waters - and makes navigation in the Persian Gulf difficult and dangerous. The Emir Sheik Issa (which in Arabic means Jesus) had commissioned a large yacht from the Italian Azimut-Benetti shipyards, or rather after seeing it I would say a ship. The problem was that it couldn't get close to the Emir's villa, because the seabed didn't allow it. Help was asked from Italian Contractor SAIPEM, which provided a dredger and its operator, a former diver who no longer wanted to know about working underwater. He worked hard and in 3 months dug a canal deep enough for the Royal yacht to approach the villa. In the meantime, the Emir's emissaries had convinced the head of mission Nuovo Pignone, who worked at our plants, to move to the Sheikh's employ as head of mechanical maintenance of the yacht. Mugnaini, the name of the Tuscan former Pignone, told us of a life so boring that he almost regretted his previous job. One day the former diver Italian invited us to dinner in his apartment: he was a small and stocky guy, with a chest disproportionate for his height. Ettore and I joined him at his house, and when we entered the apartment his Thai wife was taking off his shoes - then she gave him a foot bath with hot water and a short feet massage. We sat down in the small living room, and the Lady - always smiling - brought us an aperitif. From the small window between the kitchen and the living/dining room, the Thai woman cooked and made sure that her husband and guests did not lack anything. Than dinner was served: delicious spring rolls, vegetable soup, and fried fish - the Lady first served her husband, then the guests and then went back to the kitchen, always looking at us through the little window, and asking if everything was okay! Certainly a big difference for that Italian, who told us that he had been left by his first wife - from Piacenza like him - after the lady had emptied their bank account. The guy dreamed of retiring to Thailand in a few years with his new partner, making the journey by sea with the pilot boat he had bought in Bahrain.

MASERATI FOUR DOORS After the happy conclusion of the plant start up, SNAMPROGETTI, which cared about the Bahraini and Gulf markets, thought of giving a present to the Emir - a significant gift, which had to underline the Made in Italy - so what could better represent everything that is, a splendid Maserati Quattroporte, special version? The car arrived at the plant shrouded in an aura of secrecy – Eng. Catalano whispered the name as if it were a state secret:

The M a s e r a ti…shhhh……. Accompanying the pronunciation of the syllables with the index finger on the nose……. The problem was that the Maserati wouldn't start! The electronics it was equipped with, perhaps during the long journey in the container from Italy, had completely failed! The arrival of 4 technicians directly from Modena was organised, to whom it was necessary to give ''all the necessary assistance'. It was decided to have an entire new electronic system delivered from Italy – only after its installation and testing of the car along the roads of Bahrain was the delivery date of the Maserati to the Emir finally set.

ITALIAN AMBASSADOR Mr. FORATTINI Upon the arrival of the new Italian Ambassador Amedeo Forattini, brother of the famous cartoonist, our Company held a special party in his honor at Diplomat Hotel. The Ambassdor that had recently settled in the headquarters of the Italian Embassy in Kuwait city. All expatriate employees were invited, including the British. The Diplomat's ballroom was decorated for the special occasions: a long U shape buffet table, with every delicacy available to the guests. In a corner a well-stocked bar served fresh Italian sparkling prosecco, and all sorts of wines, cocktails and spirits. The reception proceeded well, the COMERINT management group introduced the guests to the Ambassador, who amiably shook everyone's hand with brief nods of the head. Meanwhile the Britisher's did honor to the buffet, especially its alcoholic part.

On a l specially prepared stage, the Ambassador said a brief toast and then approached the buffet table. At that moment Mr. Russel, a supervisor of the ammonia plant who since his arrival at the reception had not skimped on ''testing'' all the spirits available, rushed towards the Ambassador with his hand outstretched, in an attempt to congratulate him. It took just sec's: Forattini did something like a quick pirouette on himself, and then Russel sensationally missed him, ending up between the trays of smoked salmon and those of Russian and capricciosa salads! In an extreme attempt not to fall, Russel, holding on to the tablecloth, dragged a good portion of the scones, cured meats, olives, spring onions and pickled cucumbers to the ground!! The Ambassador behaved in an impeccable manner, as if nothing had happened, he continued to converse amiably with the guests, while the hotel staff first took care of the British guy and then within a few minutes put everything back in order. Later Russel managed to convince his friends that he had fully recovered, and returned home driving his car. A police patrol noticed his reckless driving and stopped him for investigations: he had not respected the right of way at a stop sign, so the British guy was taken to the police station. The alcohol test showed that Russel had largely exceeded the permitted limit, and therefore after two days spent in jail (the incident had happened on Thursday and the court was closed until Sunday) he was sentenced to pay the equivalent of 1,600 USD plus a suspended sentence of 15 days in prison.

ITALIAN AMBASSADOR DELIVER MASERATI TO EMIR OF BAHRAIN. The delivery of the Maserati to the Emir took place at his residence by the sea. It was a sober ceremony, the SAMPROGETTI top management supported by Ambassador Forattini illustrated the advantages of the car to Sheik Issa, and the Emir appeared satisfied. A brief refreshment of strictly non-alcoholic drinks was served by the numerous Indian waiters in the gardens of the villa. The cream-coloured Maserati was there in plain sight, a colleague of mine and I approached to look inside the car - we noticed the facing rear seats in ivory-coloured leather, the retractable bar, the satellite telephone - and of course the armored bodywork . Intent on appreciating the lines of the car, we didn't notice that Sheik Issa had approached, and after greeting us he asked us point blank:

What do you think of this car? Is it a good car?

Of course, Your Highness, a very prestigious car! - we replied in unison (even if calling an individual just over 1.55m ''height'' seemed a bit ironic)

And then – I added – there are only 2 examples of this car in the world!

Oh yes?! Said the Emir – and who owns the other specimen? -Well… it is in use by the President of the Italian Republic, but only you own it - he, the President, after 7 years, must leave it to his successor.

Good, good – continued Sheik Issa – and in any case I don't think I will make extensive use of the car, here in Bahrain the longest journey I can make is 40 km…

Yes, but now you can go as far as Saudi Arabia if you wish, Your Majesty.

Yes yes…well we'll see and… Shoukran …concluded Sheik Issa.

DOCT. BUSONERO & ME ON SAILING BOAT Before being ignominiously chased away by the President of GPIC Doct. Tawfiq, Doct. Busonero from Grosseto had convinced me a Friday to accompany him to the Zellaq beach - located in the western part of the island. This was a beach popular with expats who went surfing, paragliding and sailing. There was a little bar and a shed, where surfboards and lasers were rented. We took one of the latter, and before getting on I asked Busonero the question for the last time:

But do you know how to sail?

Of course? I attended school in Argentario…….

No because I - I said - if it involves climbing a mountain I have no problems, but for the sea…

Well it was a disaster… a nightmare… everything went normally as long as we were near the coast, but once offshore, the wind suddenly seemed to pick up. And off you go and capsize!! And luckily, one way or another - don't ask how - we managed not to capsize the boat. The calls to the now distant shore came to nothing. I was increasingly exhausted, and I asked Busonero to lower the sail, and we would try to row back. And so it was: we paddled laboriously for those 400 or 500 meters that separated us from the coast, and then we returned the laser still intact to the guy who rented it. From Zellaq to Awali it was just over 20 minutes by car, in your opinion how many insults can be uttered in this space of time? The first thing he said to Busonero was:

Ok you attended the Argentario school, but you didn't tell me it was a COOKING SCHOOL!!!

FAREWELL TO BAHRAIN – trip to Bangkok and Bali Four years were literally flown away!! So we were preparing to return to Italy. I had managed to send the Range Rover by sea with Merzario Shipping, so we decided - before to return to Italy - to take advantage of the fact that Bahrain is practically halfway between Italy and the Far East for a trip to Thailand and Bali. It was a very nice experience, the first time for us in Bangkok. We visited the city and the nearby Rose Garden, with elephant shows and Thai boxing matches. Then we flew to Jakarta, where there was a stop-over before reaching Bali. We arrived in Bali in the middle of the night, and during the check the policeman noticed that the expiry date of my wife's passport was less than the six months required by immigration law. The policeman asked us to follow him to his office, where he told us that yes I could stay, but my wife and son (he was on her passport) could not enter Bali, and had to leave the country on the first available plane.

Ridiculous, I told him how can you propose somthing like that!

Well said the policeman, the law is clear, they cannot be admitted to Indonesia. At the end of further discussions, I noticed a more ''condescending'' attitude on the part of the policeman who finally said in a low voice:

Do you have American dollars?

No I replied, I just arrived from Thailand and it's night, where can I find American dollars?

Well – he continued – it could be done like this: which hotel did you book in? I could visit you tomorrow afternoon and then we could sort this out.

I'm at Windham, I told him, indicating a hotel on the East coast. that we had considered.

Good – said the policeman putting the entry stamp on my wife passport – then I'll see you tomorrow! Obviously we had booked an hotel in the other side of the island, at about 80 km from Windham hote.

I never saw him again.

We had a lovely holiday, and we had a lot of fun: Andrea was a lot of fun, even though he suffered from frequent diarrhoea, and - to our great embarrassment - he stood out for a few episodes in the resort's restaurant and in the swimming pool! One day we rented a car with a driver for a tour of the island. The nature of Bali was incredible, we visited the famous Ulun Danu, the temple on Batan Lake, and then the Nungnung Waterfall, perhaps the most beautiful in Bali. During the climb to the waterfalls, a nauseating smoke began to come out of the dashboard of the car. I said to the driver:

Stop, the car is on fire!!

And he: yes? Then he calmly stopped the car, opened the hood and we discovered the smoke was coming from the air conditioner.

The driver didn't know what to do, so I told him to disconnect the air conditioner from the engine, so the problem would be temporarily solved. So we could continue the trip. We stopped for lunch at a local restaurant, following the driver's recommendation. There was a staircase to access the restaurant, surrounded by avocado plants. I said to the driver:

Of course you have nice mangoes here in Bali.

Mangoes? Yessss… too much mango here, he told me, pointing to the avocado plants.

After a delicious lunch, we took a walk in the surrounding area: the famous Balinese rice terraces stretched out as far as the eye could see in front of us. We passed a sort of raised gazebo where a group of men were playing dominoes and others were sleeping lying down. I asked the driver if it was a local custom and he said: ''Yes, these men wait, they kill time waiting for the women you see down there in the rice field to finish their work.'' Helping out in the fields, right??? Unfortunately the day of departure came, and it was a long journey from Bali to Jakarta to Bahrain where we stayed for another two days before returning to Italy with a flight via Rome. A long period had ended happily, and the future was yet to be deciphered.

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