The enthusiasm of the early starters.
Every second to squeeze out and soak up.
May these moments never end.
Boiler suit beauties, trilbies and tweeds, fanciful frocks, whirls and twirls.
St Mary Saloons push the pedal for medal.
Whitsun wannabees hurtle by.
Evening Sunshine as the heavy-hearted revellers spill home.
Goodbye Goodwood for another year.
Greeted by the singing Chalalas, cha la la ing.
Spitfires circle and soar.
Portraits styled, memories caught.
These are the halcyon days.
‘Give me Goodwood on a summer’s day and you can forget the rest of the world’.
Transported and transfixed in a bygone era.
The chattering crowds glide by. Dressed to kill and thrill. Swirls and twirls. Admiring glances.
The distant, pulsing screech of the track.
Excitable crowds bound together through unconditional automobile love.
A cavalcade of Minis. Big fun in small packages.
The Settrington realises race car driver dreams.