Race Weekend @ Sepang International Circuit, Malaysia
We started our morning the same way we start most mornings, by waking up. After one last fancy breakfast, we said our goodbyes to BobAnn then checked out of the exceptionally comfortable Bespoke Trendy hotel. Adam called a Grab (Southeast Asia’s version of Uber) to the airport.
When the car arrived the hotel staff insisted on helping us put our backpacks in the trunk. A ceaselessly smiling host was ready with a gift bag for each of us. However, we did not want a bag of things we knew would end up in the next out of sight trash can. So we said no thank you as politely as we could. The host, never breaking his cheery demeanor, did not accept our no. He insisted on us taking the bag. “It’s a gift” he said. Helen replied firmly but kindly “Our backpacks have limited space, but thank you.” The host grinned and again insisted. This time we both rebuffed. Adam repeated what Helen said and pointed at his single backpack.
Still, the host held out the gift bag. Finally we sheepishly ducked our heads and hurried into the back seat of the Grab like celebrities trying to avoid the paparazzi. Adam stared down at his phone, worried that he hurt the unflappable host’s feelings and was too cowardly to confront those emotions. His internal monologue was abuzz with anxious thoughts. “I didn’t want to create more trash, but maybe I should have just accepted the gift. Maybe it’s a cultural thing...” As we drove away three members of the hotel staff stood at attention to wave us goodbye, despite our transgression. One thing we can say about the Bespoke Trendy hotel, they really took their customer service seriously.
Many hours later, we made it through customs, called another Grab to our hotel, and arrived safe and sound at our destination. The hotel we chose was conveniently near the race circuit and about an hour outside of Kuala Lumpur’s city center. As we stood at the threshold our eyes darted up and down the sketchy looking strip mall. We took in our new accommodations and thought to ourselves “Well it’s cheap, what did we expect?” We walked in and were immediately taken aback by an odd but not necessarily unsanitary odor in the lobby.
The room we got was clean and we counted ourselves lucky that it didn’t smell like cigarette smoke, but it was barebones; no frills. Helen checked for bed bugs and we latched the security bolt on the door. This would be our home for the next three nights. Yes the sheets weren’t as pristine as Bespoke Trendy, but we had certainly seen worse. “At least it smells clean and besides, we’re really just here for MotoGP” we told each other. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
In the morning we Grabbed to the Sepang International Circuit to watch the second day of the three day event. The climax of the day was the Tissot Sprint. The sprint is a half length (13 laps) race that happens on Saturday; while the main event, the Grand Prix (GP) happens Sunday.
The race got off to an exciting start. The crowd roared as the riders leaned through the first turn. Surrounded by fellow fans of the sport, we basked in the shared enthusiasm. Francesco Bagnaia, the defending world champion, pushed hard lap after lap in an effort to catch the current point leader, Jorge Martin. With only four races left in the season Bagnaia would need to win every race to prevent losing the title to Jorge. Unfortunately, several laps into the race, Bagnaia leaned a little too far and his bike slid out from underneath. The whole stadium gasped. Bagnaia threw his hands up in despair. In that moment we all knew—Bagnaia had just lost any hope of winning the world championship. (As a note, crashes like this are called low-sides and are very common in MotoGP, the riders rarely get injured during a low-side).
The next day was equally fun, we arrived at the Sepang circuit to see an even larger crowd for the GP. The parking lot was full to the brim with motorcycles—more than we’d ever seen in one place! We found some good seats and prepared for the race.
We were right in front of turn 1, a prime viewpoint to watch the start. The lights went out and the race began. 24 motorcycles launched from the starting line in unison then jockeyed for position into the first turn. The crowd roared, cheering them on as they rounded the first corner. Immediately after the first corner there is a tight left turn. We saw one rider slide out on the inside of the turn—not a good spot. Pandemonium unfurled as riders swerved to avoid catastrophe. Two more riders went down. One looked to be hit by a moving bike (unlike low-sides, this is very dangerous). Those bikes weigh 350 lbs.
The red flags were waved and medical crews zoomed onto the track. Two of the riders walked away with minor injuries but the medical professionals put up a privacy curtain around the third rider. Without cell service or announcers, our minds raced with worry. This was the worst crash we’d seen all season. Helen stood with her hands over her mouth trying not to feel embarrassed that she was crying. After some time an ambulance came out and carted the rider away. A few minutes later the crowd cheered as we watched the same rider waving to the Jumbotron and walking under his own strength. Everyone was okay. Our heart rates dropped as we settled back into our seats, ready for the race to resume.
The start of the race was repeated and this time continued smoothly. Jorge Martin and Bagnaia fought a vicious battle for first and Bagnaia clinched the victory, which probably relieved some of yesterday’s disappointment. But his joy on the podium looked a bit forced, knowing that his chance of winning the championship is now almost zero.
We’d go on to fight the surge of traffic by spending the next two hours trying to call a Grab. We kept our spirits up with a few gas station snackies. The next day we planned to leave the concrete jungle and head to the world’s oldest rainforest, Taman Negara—a four hour drive northeast of Kuala Lumpur.
