I’m not especially a car person, but when you get a chance to ride in a Porsche on the automaker’s German racetrack, you take it, right?
I’ve just returned from my first trip to Germany, during which I became acquainted with the most excellent town of Leipzig in Saxony, 150 kilometers south of Berlin. It’s a wonderful place with a very special mixture of old and new, which I hope I’ll write about in more detail in another post.
It’s also home to Porsche’s high-design plant (the whole thing is rendered in the shape of a diamond, as pictured above) and adjacent racetrack.
We toured the factory, which was so impeccable, I swear to you I’d eat off the floor in there. And then it was off to the races.
Our race car driver, Manuel, was waiting in the driver’s seat on the track and I jumped in. And we zoomed off without any ado, hardly so much as a “guten tag.” Holy —
–!! I turned immediately bright pink and started to sweat. We were soaring at about 130 miles an hour, but it wasn’t the speed that was the thing to reckon with as much as the insane hairpin turns on the track, each patterned after turns at famous courses around the world: “Loews” in Monte Carlo, “Corkscrew” in Laguna Seca, Rio’s “Victoria Turn.”
Mostly what I remember is wild breaking, swerving, and the flash of orange cones. I couldn’t tell you what the track looked like from inside the car, or how many laps we did, or how long it lasted.
It was like being in an action flick, or maybe a rap video.
I squealed with delight/shock/terror.
If you’re curious — and you may want to take some Bonine first —
It was awesome. (Should you find yourself in Leipzig, you can try the “Porsche Leipzig copilot experience” too, for 150 euros.)
And then it was over, and I stumbled out of the car looking dazed and feeling utterly invigorated.
Bucket list: check.