Was It a Kadett? No, an Ascona.

I had a hard time keeping all appointments out of my agenda last weekend and I knew I was going to regret it the next Monday, but it was worth it anyway.

The plans for the weekend were going to the yearly 6 Uren van Kortrijk Rally. It practically takes place in my back yard, so the whole thing is a kind of ‘embrace it or hate it’- event. But my family is full of car lovers, so we rather embrace it. And I can wear really ugly boots and my racing vest all weekend long. Could I wish for more?

The car-thing is something that I got from my parents. When they’d just met, my father took my mother to rally races all over the country and abroad, because he had a big passion for cars before his obsession with bicycles began. Eventually, cars started to grow on my mother, too, and they have passed it on to me.
By the way, my mom really gets angry when there’s something wrong with her car and the technicians don't believe her. For example, when something was wrong with the turbo of her car and the technician started saying things like ‘are you sure the light on the dashboard was red and not orange?’ and ‘you can’t drive with a turbo engine because you’re a woman’. She kicked off. I was there when this happened. It was epic.

But anyway, it’s not that going to races is a weekly event for me, but when the family is together -and that’s something that rarely happens- we enjoy watching cars together.

So, for me it’s more than about the cars.

And now I could write a paragraph about feminism, but I’m just going to re-watch the biggest car crashes of the race online.