The Goodwood Festival of Speed reminds me what it is I don’t like about motor-shows. Mostly they take place in massive indoor halls, great for protection from the weather, but terrible for natural lighting. Therefore, a zillion lightbulbs machinegun the whole place with lumens from every possible direction creating a constant, uncomfortable glare. Furthermore, there’s the claustrophobia. No matter how vast the building, there’s nowhere to go but the stands. Every vehicle is surrounded by throngs of people, some of which are possibly only on the stand because they haven’t successfully managed to get off it.
These and many other factors conspire to make the average motorshow a sterile, unnatural experience, worsened by the brainwashed drones who are probably rewarded for every set of customer contact details they can extract from you.
Goodwood is different. It isn’t even a motorshow, really, but the corporate aspect of it is unbelievably well executed. Every year a tiny new city of individual showcases appears here, only to vanish just four days later. It’s the kind of thing that really should be a permanent fixture somewhere as a go-to venue for car companies to impress us.
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