Is The Turkish Grand Prix European?
The weekend which began on 29th April 2011 was a fairy tale weekend. At one end of it, a beautiful girl married a charming prince; at the other, an evil villain was captured and killed. While the world applauded, Mehmet Yildiz sucked his teeth nervously as he sat in his Ankara study watching the news on television. “We are not at war with Islam,” said Barack Obama after he had informed the world that he had ordered his soldiers to kill Osama bin Laden. Yildiz sighed. “If only they would believe him,” he thought to himself. With trembling hands, he unlocked a secret chamber at the back of his desk, extracted a bottle of 21 year old Balvenie whisky and a crystal tumbler, poured out a healthy quantity of the Scottish amber nectar and began to drink like a man who needed to be elsewhere.
Before his retirement, Yildiz had been one of the principal negotiators for Turkey’s accelerated accession to membership of the European Union. At a meeting in Brussels in the dying years of the 20th century convened to discuss Turkish membership of the EU, Yildiz had carefully observed the faces around the table and found most to be untroubled. One of the troubled few was a thin, white-haired gentleman from Austria. Yildiz detected the slightest shadow cross the man’s face when the matter of Turkish membership was raised. He made a mental note of the man’s name and button-holed him during a coffee break.
“Mr Wolfgang Kerzendorfer, I presume?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Please forgive me for interrupting you. I am Mehmet Yildiz, leader of the Turkish delegation.”
“No, no interruption at all. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Yildiz.”
“If I may be so presumptuous, Mr Kerzendorfer, have you ever been to Turkey?”
“I can’t say that I have, no.”
“That is a pity. Still, all is not lost. As part of our charm offensive, I am authorised to offer a few free holidays in Turkey to selected individuals and I am minded to offer one to you if you will do me the honour of accepting it.”
“Why, that is very decent of you, Mr Yildiz.”
Kerzendorfer travelled to Turkey and was shown as many of the more salubrious parts of the beautiful country as were possible in the time by Yildiz. After a few toothsome Turkish meals lubricated by excellent Turkish wines from the Caucasus region, Kerzendorfer began to think differently about Turkey. His views about the barbarous nature of Islam and its potentially deleterious effects on Western European civilisation – which he had kept to himself but were obvious to a seasoned people-watcher like Yildiz – began to soften. He seemed genuinely to be interested in the things he saw and even spoke of the architecture of Istanbul’s Blue Mosque with feeling. Not without enthusiasm, Kerzendorfer also allowed himself to be delighted by the ministrations of a "special" Turkish belly dancer assigned exclusively to him for a night.
Yildiz felt himself lose some of his anxiety about his government’s EU application.
One afternoon on a walk around Istanbul to work off the effects of a hearty lunch, Kerzendorfer felt so relaxed in the splendour of his surroundings and the company of Yildiz that he waxed lyrical about the brilliance of his nine year old granddaughter, Simone. Just as he was enthusing about how beautifully Simone played Mozart’s Violin Concerto No. 5, the muezzin from a nearby mosque intoned the call for prayer from a tall minaret in a particularly compelling manner. Yildiz suspected from the look on his companion’s face that his bowels had suddenly loosened. His fears were confirmed when Kerzendorfer peremptorily demanded to be shown to the nearest toilet.
Weeks later, Yildiz and his delegation received the worst possible news. New applications for membership had to be put to the vote of every member of the European Union. A unanimous vote of approval was required for a successful application. Austria had made clear that it would exercise its right of veto.
Defeated and disheartened, Mehmet Yildiz decided to retire early from the Turkish civil service. His parting words to the Prime Minister were that a way had to be found for the Western Europeans to see the Turks as being “like them”. “As long as they see us as Muslim fanatics who will blow them up whenever we get a little upset, we are doomed. If we make them believe that we enjoy wine, women and song and think a good way to spend a Sunday afternoon is visit a race-track where motor cars are raced very fast, we may just get there.”
Yildiz hardly realised the prescience of his words, for only a few years later, the Turkish Grand Prix was born. It has been a feature of the Formula One Grand Prix circuit since 2005.
Since the last race in Shanghai nearly three weeks ago (yes, 3 weeks – F1 goes on holiday and returns to a changed world!), the 2011 season has come to life. After three successive wins from the front by Sebastian Vettel, F1 needed something different to keep us all interested. That something was supplied with sugar on top in Shanghai. Lewis Hamilton, a driver who believes in winning races the traditional way, provided more overtaking moves in one race than we have seen from the rest of the field put together this season.
Not since his outstanding rookie year in 2007 have I seen Hamilton quite so thrilled by an F1 victory: he flung himself at the McLaren team for a massive embrace, kissed the BBC TV camera and even hugged his rival, Vettel. We need more of this from Hamilton (the driving, I mean) and Turkey with its anti-clockwise track and high speed corners – including the now notorious turn 8 - is exactly the sort of place where he supplies it well.
Whenever one feels one’s eyelids dragged down by a dull race, Hamilton can be guaranteed to liven things up. He is, for my money at least, the most exciting driver we have at the moment.
If Australia, Malaysia and China constitute the early “fly-away” races before the start of F1’s home (i.e. European) season, where does Turkey fit in the picture? Half of the country is in Europe and the other half in Asia and Istanbul is plonked right between the two. The answer to the question depends upon whether or not you agree with Mr Mehmet Yildiz. Well, do you?
Enjoy Turkey!
Gitau
4 May 2011
Before his retirement, Yildiz had been one of the principal negotiators for Turkey’s accelerated accession to membership of the European Union. At a meeting in Brussels in the dying years of the 20th century convened to discuss Turkish membership of the EU, Yildiz had carefully observed the faces around the table and found most to be untroubled. One of the troubled few was a thin, white-haired gentleman from Austria. Yildiz detected the slightest shadow cross the man’s face when the matter of Turkish membership was raised. He made a mental note of the man’s name and button-holed him during a coffee break.
“Mr Wolfgang Kerzendorfer, I presume?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Please forgive me for interrupting you. I am Mehmet Yildiz, leader of the Turkish delegation.”
“No, no interruption at all. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Yildiz.”
“If I may be so presumptuous, Mr Kerzendorfer, have you ever been to Turkey?”
“I can’t say that I have, no.”
“That is a pity. Still, all is not lost. As part of our charm offensive, I am authorised to offer a few free holidays in Turkey to selected individuals and I am minded to offer one to you if you will do me the honour of accepting it.”
“Why, that is very decent of you, Mr Yildiz.”
Kerzendorfer travelled to Turkey and was shown as many of the more salubrious parts of the beautiful country as were possible in the time by Yildiz. After a few toothsome Turkish meals lubricated by excellent Turkish wines from the Caucasus region, Kerzendorfer began to think differently about Turkey. His views about the barbarous nature of Islam and its potentially deleterious effects on Western European civilisation – which he had kept to himself but were obvious to a seasoned people-watcher like Yildiz – began to soften. He seemed genuinely to be interested in the things he saw and even spoke of the architecture of Istanbul’s Blue Mosque with feeling. Not without enthusiasm, Kerzendorfer also allowed himself to be delighted by the ministrations of a "special" Turkish belly dancer assigned exclusively to him for a night.
Yildiz felt himself lose some of his anxiety about his government’s EU application.
One afternoon on a walk around Istanbul to work off the effects of a hearty lunch, Kerzendorfer felt so relaxed in the splendour of his surroundings and the company of Yildiz that he waxed lyrical about the brilliance of his nine year old granddaughter, Simone. Just as he was enthusing about how beautifully Simone played Mozart’s Violin Concerto No. 5, the muezzin from a nearby mosque intoned the call for prayer from a tall minaret in a particularly compelling manner. Yildiz suspected from the look on his companion’s face that his bowels had suddenly loosened. His fears were confirmed when Kerzendorfer peremptorily demanded to be shown to the nearest toilet.
Weeks later, Yildiz and his delegation received the worst possible news. New applications for membership had to be put to the vote of every member of the European Union. A unanimous vote of approval was required for a successful application. Austria had made clear that it would exercise its right of veto.
Defeated and disheartened, Mehmet Yildiz decided to retire early from the Turkish civil service. His parting words to the Prime Minister were that a way had to be found for the Western Europeans to see the Turks as being “like them”. “As long as they see us as Muslim fanatics who will blow them up whenever we get a little upset, we are doomed. If we make them believe that we enjoy wine, women and song and think a good way to spend a Sunday afternoon is visit a race-track where motor cars are raced very fast, we may just get there.”
Yildiz hardly realised the prescience of his words, for only a few years later, the Turkish Grand Prix was born. It has been a feature of the Formula One Grand Prix circuit since 2005.
Since the last race in Shanghai nearly three weeks ago (yes, 3 weeks – F1 goes on holiday and returns to a changed world!), the 2011 season has come to life. After three successive wins from the front by Sebastian Vettel, F1 needed something different to keep us all interested. That something was supplied with sugar on top in Shanghai. Lewis Hamilton, a driver who believes in winning races the traditional way, provided more overtaking moves in one race than we have seen from the rest of the field put together this season.
Not since his outstanding rookie year in 2007 have I seen Hamilton quite so thrilled by an F1 victory: he flung himself at the McLaren team for a massive embrace, kissed the BBC TV camera and even hugged his rival, Vettel. We need more of this from Hamilton (the driving, I mean) and Turkey with its anti-clockwise track and high speed corners – including the now notorious turn 8 - is exactly the sort of place where he supplies it well.
Whenever one feels one’s eyelids dragged down by a dull race, Hamilton can be guaranteed to liven things up. He is, for my money at least, the most exciting driver we have at the moment.
If Australia, Malaysia and China constitute the early “fly-away” races before the start of F1’s home (i.e. European) season, where does Turkey fit in the picture? Half of the country is in Europe and the other half in Asia and Istanbul is plonked right between the two. The answer to the question depends upon whether or not you agree with Mr Mehmet Yildiz. Well, do you?
Enjoy Turkey!
Gitau
4 May 2011
posted by Gitau at 8:17 pm
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