It’s rare that a race meeting kicks off with a 4.30am kebab but as we thread our way through Liverpool during the early hours of Sunday morning among the late-night revellers, it’s hard not to wonder what on earth is going on. Our three vehicle convoy is bound for the docks and a date with an unpleasantly timed ferry to Douglas on the Isle of Man. I think I’d rather still be awake and chomping a kebab; only coffee and bacon can save me now.
Our party comprises two motorcycles and one heavily laden Porsche 911 Turbo. Ahead of us lies – with luck – a smooth ferry sailing followed by nine days of hedonistic speed freakery.
