Back in May, Matt sent me a Slack message over Victoria Day Weekend. “Since you’re not here, is it a bad time to ask if you wanna go to Goodwood this year?” Obviously, this was an occasion to break vacation boundaries on. The Goodwood Festival of Speed is one of the bucket-list events for just about any car enthusiast, a four-day experience of motoring nirvana where Lord March turns the driveway of Goodwood House into a hillclimb for automakers, racing teams, and legendary drivers showcase some of the greatest machines on the planet.
It’s an event I’ve watched almost religiously on livestream. It’s my Super Bowl every year the Eagles don’t make it to the big game, an event with such herculean expectations that I’d be amiss if I didn’t say yes. I don’t remember what I was doing prior to receiving that message, but I do know that I applied for media credentials immediately. This was the sort of opportunity I genuinely couldn’t pass up.
As it turned out, the cast and crew attending would be me, Jason, Adrian, and for part of the trip, Beau. This really meant bowling with the bumpers down, so I packed my bags, got an ETA, and counted down the days until I had to get to YYZ and hop a British Airways flight across the pond.
Terminal 5 at Heathrow gives quite the impression. Clean, organized, helpfully signed, and overarchingly modern, it does make my home airport of Pearson look a bit shabby. Even the tube train between the gates and customs featured floor-to-ceiling doors on the platforms. After a quick trip through HMRC’s digital gates, I emerged to both golden hour and the multi-storey car park, and it wouldn’t be long before a face I’d only seen online greeted me from behind the wheel of an ungainly people carrier. As it turned out, Jason was running the travel gauntlet and wouldn’t arrive until Thursday, with his layover being re-routed to Bermuda. This gave us a chance to complete a sidequest—grab pints with one of my cousins, scout out places to eat for the week, and hand over a comically oversized calculator for my great uncle to use in his magic act.
First stop after meeting at the train station, The Hole In The Wall, for proper Cumberland sausage atop mash, bathed in rich gravy and garnished with firm spring peas. In the glass? Cider, crisp and refreshing as the evening breeze after the mid-day sun of a British heatwave. Comfort food for a soul that, for some reason, almost felt like it was coming home. Granted, the fact that it was pub quiz night made us move along after one round, but that simply led us to an even more fascinating venue.
Presumably years ago, the Duke & Rye used to be a church, but it’s since converted to the universal religion. The stained glass windows and religious architecture remain, but wine and wafers have been replaced by ale and chips. Feeling a sudden urge to do the exact opposite of adding some class, I went with a low-ABV alcopop. Sadly, it was after this round that my cousin had to catch his train, so Adrian and I decided upon one last joint and found some truly unusual items on the menu. Mexican fiesta Detroit-style pizza. In Chichester. Right, two palomas it is, along with a gander at a street-parked Swiss-plated 500E before an Uber back to the house.
The next day, it was game time. Collect Jason and head back to the house to regroup before—hang on, are those the Red Arrows? Absolutely, and they put on one hell of a show. There’s nothing quite like watching Hawk T1As rip past your AirBNB in formation. Sure, we might’ve lingered a bit longer than we probably should have, but it wasn’t exactly my decision, and I certainly wasn’t mad about it.
Air show over, it was time to pop down to the media car park at Goodwood, and explore. Oh, what a treat. Up until then, I’d never seen a McLaren F1, then I saw two. It’s easy to not realize how dainty these ultimate ’90s speed machines are, no larger than an original Porsche Boxster despite featuring twelve cylinders and a top speed well on the heroic side of 200 MPH.
After a bit more wandering around, we stumbled upon the new Prelude, and I drew up the idea of putting Jason in the rear seat and Adrian in the front. At this point, I hadn’t seen a rear seat test of the new Prelude, so it only made sense to smash that one out. After that brief burst of productivity, it was time to unfortunately be, well, not productive. Beau, not having arrived yet, got us access to the unmarked Ton Club, which Jason described as being in a real building not far from the course. Unfortunately, Jason was thinking of the Goodwood Revival, not the Goodwood Festival of Speed, and we spent far too much time wandering the grounds in search of this mythical building.
After a bit of refreshment and a touch more wandering, we headed back to the AirBNB knowing we had to get our arses in gear for Friday, when we’d be shooting a shedload of reels. One toasty night later, we were ready to hit the ground running again, me largely behind the camera and Jason and Adrian largely in front of it. Reels of Rolls-Royces, Bugattis, and even the Rodius came quickly, some of which are already up on our Instagram. Things calmed down a bit in the afternoon, when we linked up with Beau at the Zenvo stand, met Jens Sverdrup, and ended up in the lounge after some mild secondhand embarrassment from Jason’s antics. Still, nothing a bit of Veuve Cliquot couldn’t take the edge off of, and that night’s curry in town was really something special. Tikka masalas, biryani, bhuna, poppadoms, and plenty of Cobra. Was I a tad exhausted? Sure, but great times with great people mean you never feel like collapsing on the sofa.
While I was expecting Saturday to be relatively uneventful besides our cadre of hoi polloi getting lounge access, it turned out that we’d be taking a Rolls-Royce Phantom up the hill. Pardon moi? As it turns out, riding shotgun with a driver hustling an enormous sedan up the hill climb is not dissimilar to the dynamic experience of having a friend in secondary school who genuinely thought he was the reincarnation of Colin McRae behind the wheel of his parents’ minivan. Ride quality? Absolutely. Handling? It’s in there somewhere, I’m sure of it. Honestly, the hardest part besides suddenly remembering I want lambswool mats in everything, was keeping the phone horizontal to record the run.
From there, the day kept rolling quickly. An appointment with Lotus’ Chief Creative Officer, a reel to shoot on Mercedes-Benz’s Blue Wonder aided by delightfully helpful representatives, a look inside the Duke’s home, the sort of mad sun-drenched blur of melding business with pleasure on a warm week. The perfect end to the day? Down the pub of course, this time the Angelsey Arms for a sort of duck salad so tasty, it didn’t need a vinaigrette.
Sunday at Goodwood brought a new twist as we met up with Doug, a contributor from Pennsylvania settled in Metropolitan London via Sydney and Germany. If you’ve been reading the site for a while, you might remember Doug’s tale of having to let go of his XJ Cherokee because it didn’t make sense to keep it in London’s Ultra Low Emission Zone, and I’m pleased to report that he’s both a delightful human being and skilled on the grill. Together, we shot some more reels on stuff that we missed, but generally took it fairly easy.
Perhaps the most astonishing part of Goodwood is the scale. I haven’t seen any motor show in North America this full of fascinating cars in years, not to mention that drivers that shaped the culture were there, across seemingly every discipline. I saw Alain Prost give an interview from a balcony and Chris Forsberg slide his Nissan Altima drift car up the drive. Walking the grounds, you could see the Hyundai RN24 parked under a tree, the Beast of Turin looking menacing in its paddock, a BMW 2002 Turbo parked atop a display, and up-close access to rides as varied as a Gordon Murray T.50, a Jensen Interceptor with a hero shot of nitrous in the back, an Audi R18 Le Mans car, and even a variety of Facel Vegas. You wouldn’t see ropes-down stuff like that in North America.
So yeah, if you’ve ever wanted to visit the Goodwood Festival of Speed, I’m pleased to report it pretty much lives up to expectations, with the only caveat being that you can’t really see what’s on track without being in the grandstands. Even the car parks were special, with everything from R36 Passats to lovely old French hatchbacks showing up. However, the most striking part of the trip for me was that, beyond the glitz and glamor and incredible machinery, I fell into the age-old trap: Thinking I could live there. This next bit is going to get a touch self-indulgent, so I’ve peppered it with images of pretty cars in case you want to skip the boring introspection.
Since being a motoring writer in Canada usually involves testing press cars, that means I’m pretty much locked to one of three cities: Toronto, Montreal, or Vancouver. As comparatively nice as the Pacific Northwest weather is, there’s absolutely no way I’m affording the cost of living in the lower mainland, home of the most expensive median apartment prices in Canada. At the same time, each time I’ve tried learning French, it hasn’t gone so well, so perhaps I’m just not cut out for Montreal.
That leaves me with Toronto, and as much as I love this city, I’ve been coming to a realization over the past few months that it doesn’t really fit my needs as well as it used to. For one, many of my close friends have moved away, started families, or simply become crazy busy trying to survive in this urban jungle. I’ll fully admit, I’m lucky being able to take advantage of a favorable exchange rate, but Toronto’s definitely become a case of haves and have-nots over the past decade. The housing bubble is real, and it’s produced some weird, if not unexpected, results.
Then there’s the fact that it’s feeling colder in recent years, and I’m not talking about the weather. The rudeness, the erasure of elements needed for DIY culture to thrive, the sheer volume of traffic whether you’re driving or taking public transit. I might be central to the highway network, but I’m also in a spot that’s somewhat light on both nightlife culture and friends in the neighbourhood, and it takes about half an hour to get just about anywhere. Even in Chichester the day before Goodwood, I saw something just not commonly seen in my neck of the woods—young people out on the town in reasonably budget-friendly establishments. People my age living life, not just working a double, but instead drinking, playing snooker, occasionally laughing, and chatting nonsense with friends.
Plus, there’s something weirdly charming about the reality of the culture. As Adrian pointed out, there is a lot of white trash around, but culturally, that’s basically what I am. I wear Pit Vipers unironically. I occasionally keep my shoes on in the house. I can get a tad lairy on nights out, I still love Funeral For A Friend’s debut album, and Nu Rave, and still sing along to Lady Sovereign. I’ll admit, I have read Heat magazine at least once, don’t mind Lambrini, and owning heavily depreciated German cars probably has some subconscious posturing of class ambiguity to it, even if the overarching theme is Moët taste on a Stella purchasing budget, if at least a Glenfiddich maintenance budget.
If I were to file for an adult passport (thanks, Dad), get it, and move over, I’d import the Boxster and IVA it with a set of right-hand-drive headlights for the correct beam pattern because I’m a romantic, and if I have a shot at keeping one big thing, that might as well be it. Obviously, I’d have to re-test for a manual licence considering Ontario doesn’t split automatic and manual licensing, but I’d want to do that anyway just to broaden opportunities. Beyond that, so long as I stay about 90 minutes from London, my cost of living would actually drop even after road tax and the hideous cost of insurance for new arrivals, and I do have extended family in Dorset and Sussex, so I wouldn’t exactly be alone.
Still, I reckon the plan for now is to visit more often. Not just for big events like Goodwood, but for both family and the everyday things. The people and landscapes and pubs and architecture and relatively moderate weather. The Festival of Speed is astounding, a true bucket-list event, yet a brief taste of Sussex has me convinced there’s so much more to see, do, and enjoy. Regardless, if you’re looking for a sign to book tickets for next year, consider this it. Goodwood? More like Greatwood.
(Top graphic image: Thomas Hundal)
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Goodwood is indeed an amazing experience. For a family vacation several years ago, I waited until they finalized the FOS dates before I booked our flights. We only spent one day there, but I recommend taking two, because there is simply so much to see.
The amazing thing about the UK is how much car culture there is in a relatively small area. F1 teams, heritage centers, autojumbles, etc.
Would love to live somewhere over there, but just don’t see how it’s going to happen. And if the goal is get away from the MAGA folks, remember that they voted for Brexit, and once you’re in the rural areas, you’ll find plenty of Trump fans.
My wife and I sincerely wish we’d have been able to pull a foreign passport from at least one of our grandparents. Retirement in Yorkshire would be at the top of the list.
I am happy where my family is
If you dig it, go for it, you can always come back if it does not work out.
Ironically, I have a couple work colleagues from jolly England who are car guys and they hope to move to the US. Their main reasons are houses with real garages, better weather, less regulation, and endless places to visit.
Just came up last week during a meeting. Cheerio!
I get this. If you figure out immigration to the UK we’ll start planning our escape to Scotland.
I’ve been to England 5 times (1999-2023) and have never NOT wanted to move there after a few days.
In fact, after more than a few days almost anywhere, I have the same impression. The problem is that your beautifully catered midsummer vacation is wildly different than spending 12 months a year in a place, to say nothing of trying to make a living AND afford housing and taxes (among other things, but those two items are the main driver in cost of living differences from place to place).
I’ve been researching emigration for the better part of a decade, and right now we have a pending application for EU citizenship by descent (Croatia specifically, but also the whole EU since they’re almost completely interchangeable). One thing I come across regularly is the often cited headline “These places in Europe are X% cheaper to live than America!” which is a big selling point, especially for people trying to retire early, work at gigs instead of a salaried job, etc.
The hard reality is that median accommodations in Europe and the UK, for a given price point, are going to be nowhere up to the size or modernity for what you can get in almost all of the US (outside of the 10-15 biggest cities). So you have to adjust your expectations and realize that you’re trading quality of life (community, social safety nets and healthcare, walkable cities, and so on) for America’s quantity of life (multiple cars, semi-affordable housing, generally wealthy populace, low taxes).
It’s a pretty big difference, but if you adjust your expectations a bit, it’s manageable. When I was young and single, it would have been a cakewalk — places like England, Germany, and the Netherlands require the least possible adjustment for Americans, especially on the language front.
I often have that “I could live here” feeling when vacationing. I had it something fierce after the first time I visited SoCal. I was convinced I’d move there, then I started doing research on cost of living and employment opportunities.
I’m still living on the east coast.
I emigrated over there, and the thing which struck me after a few months is that the Brits just let you get on with things. They are not necessarily friendly (hence their reputation for being cold in some parts of the world) but for the most part they just let people get along.
Outside work, can take a while to make friends, but that is the same everywhere, join a club, play sport, turn up at amateur theatre, and things click.
And like you did not say, England in particular is a crowded place, but still manages to have beautiful, gentle countryside, in spite of all the people.
It’s funny, I had an opposite reaction after visiting the UK. I’m not going to yuck someone else’s yum so I’ll not share details, but it’s not for me. I get it though. Visiting Germany resonates with me in a similar manner.
At this point I’m tied down. I have family, in-laws, a wife, kids, and a career all tying me down where I am, and luckily I’m happy here. But if I were in your shoes I’d seriously consider a move. You have family in the UK, you like the culture there, your job is flexible, and it sounds like the cost of living makes sense and you’re not tied down. Enjoy your time there!
You had better be ok with very soggy weather. Is it the end of the world? No. But for people like me its a big deal. Bad weather can really be a downer for me. My best friend is from the UK (Ironically moved to Portland ) and even there he tells me it doesn’t rain near as much as it did back home.
I spent a month in the UK at one point. It rained for almost the whole time we were there. And you can tell it does it constantly as everything looked wet and mossy.
The old joke is basically “I went to the UK for a week and it only rained twice — once for 4 days and once for 3 days” 🙂
Just as a data point, I spent a month on the southwest coast in July and it rained maybe once or twice (just a light drizzle, it would barely register as rain to those of us accustomed to the US Southeast). But I’ve also been there plenty of times in March through May, and it’s a crapshoot from minute to minute. You do have to at least plan for rain, the forecasts are almost useless except in the macro sense.
I grew up in rural TN so yes- I definitely remember the insane thunderstorms and downpours. Been here in California for a few decades. Its very dry here. And so its gotten me accustomed to it. If it never rained again I would be ok with that but know what realistically it has to… or we run out of water. I would be miserable in the UK.
The thing is, depending on exactly which bit of London you’re talking about, much of London is 90 minutes (or more) from London. Or to look at it another way, Bristol is 90 mins from London by train.
At certain times of day, certain parts of London are 90 minutes from London.
Yeah, I’m in a similar boat here with Toronto being about 90 minutes from Toronto. Really, if I could be a 90-minute train journey to central London and a similar length of train journey to Gatwick, I’d be quite pleased. Eastbourne, Worthing, Bognor Regis, Chichester itself, something like that.
In the words of King George V: “Bugger Bognor”. The UK gets better the further from the south east you get.
True. Tho I am fond of Brighton.
I’m in the UK and it’s so nice to see a car website getting into the UK car scene. There is a lot of it for you to explore 🙂
Why no photo op of the Prelude with Jason in front and Adrian in back?
It’s in the other article
https://www.theautopian.com/we-tested-the-2025-honda-prelude-back-seat-with-a-really-tall-guy-in-front-and-a-really-short-guy-in-back/
Adrian is in front in that story. I was hoping to see him in the back.
But, did you go to Big Tesco? I feel like you should spend sun-up to sundown in a Big Tesco, which if you do this outside of Newcastle in December will be 18 minutes. Then decide if you can truly commit to a life of monitoring your bins outside your flat in Devon so the neighbor Hood doesn’t come and knock it down again. Or whatever The British do nowadays.
I’m having trouble gauging the size of that monument/sculpture thing in the top picture, depicting a human head in profile with two cars in their hair. If those are two full-size cars, it’s enormous. If they’re scale models then what scale? All pictures I’ve managed to find are like this one: towering over the crowd without perspective on how far away from the camera it was.
Thanks for any pointers to help satisfy my curiosity.
Got me curious as well – from the looks of this Instagram post, those are actual cars and that thing is pretty freakn’ huge.
It’s one of the relatively compact ones. Try Googling festival of speed monuments. The MB one goes right over the house.
Those are amazing – thanks for a new automotive/architectural rabbit hole to dive into! I’ve definitely seen that red MG one at some point, but that’s about it. I never realized they built such massive new pieces each year.
OK, so the Autopian has done both Goodwood biggies. Next stop: send Mercedes to the Royal International Air Tattoo, the Farnborough Air Show and the Mach Loop next July.
The comment about Toronto getting “colder”, really resonated with me. About a year ago, I left a city that I fucking loved because it felt like my time there was up. Like there was just nothing left there for me. Everyone I knew moved back home or started families or a combination thereof. A number of the places I loved were killed by COVID, so even my hangouts were gone. Sometimes a place just stops being “home”, and that’s ok.
Also, I fuckin hate Toronto, so I’m all for anyone who wants to leave.
I feel like that where I live, but I have no idea where to go. Everywhere that interests me has an even higher cost of living.
I hope your new home feels more like “home”.
We’re in the same boat. I ended up where I am now because I was kinda out of ideas. I spent my entire childhood moving every few years, so it’s not like I have a hometown or whatever to go back to. If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that no place is perfect, so it was really a matter of finding a fair compromise between cost, weather, and general livability.
Great article!
My wife is English and my kids are dual citizens (I look like I’m human trafficking with the number of passports I have in my cabinet). We have thought long and hard about moving back, probably Devon or Cornwall, but it’s so difficult for me to get a visa. They could get on a plane today and go. I genuinely miss living there for the reasons you talk about.
It’s also a huge pain to get the passport done so get it done so you don’t ever have to stress about it again
FFS, this.
In January 2023 I got a deal alert for some great London flights in late March. My pre-Covid brain was like “no problem, that’s more than 2 months away!”
I could write an essay on this, but over 100 man-hours later, three out of four of us still ended up the day before our trip inside a passport office (like a DMV, but with armed Federal guards), barely getting in under the wire.
Supremely stressful. My new rule of thumb is get the ball rolling with 6 months to spare, even for renewals.
Oh yea exactly. We had the same problem with my kids US passports a couple years ago before visiting the UK. We applied 6 months in advance and they still only got delivered a week before the trip
I’m so envious of the dual passport thing. I have a coworker who’s also eligible for an Australian passport, that lucky SOB.
Having a second passport seems like a great plan B right about now.
That’s kind of our view point. If shit ever did hit the fan, we live 2 hours from the consulate office and have emergency funds for flights.
Go ahead and get the passport, if for no reason other than convenience for traveling. I think they’re blue (again?), which for some reason was a Very Big Deal nine years ago. Perhaps an actual British person can explain that.
They’re almost black now, as of last year when we got my wife and kids new ones
They’re almost black, and Brexitly printed by a French company in Poland.
Interesting, I didn’t know that! It was a pain but smoother than renewing my us passport
I have renewed my passport from overseas twice since they centralized everything in the UK. Both times it was a nightmare, my passport just disappeared into the system for weeks and weeks, no matter that, as a UK citizen resident overseas, I need it more than most UK residents.
The original system was such a doddle and took no time, renewing by post at your local consulate. Once again, IT and the internet have made life so much simpler and more convenient for everybody!
My kids first UK passport last year was really easy but my wife renewing hers before renewing her green card (its own nightmare) was a pain. She sent her old passport in, the USPS lost it, so she had to get her identity verified by a friend in the UK, to then apply again. Took months.
Failure is deeply ingrained in the British psyche. We hold up Scott of the Antarctic as a national hero for not getting to the South Pole first and then dying stoically.
Brexit was a bit like that.
Snag a subscribe to international living. I did after the election and the advice is worth the cost. Your issue is the car. Ours is a dog and candidly I would wait to buy cars while there. Forbidden fruit and all that. Also Scotland.
But probably Panama or Belize for birding. Just do it. The worst outcome is you don’t like England or being on the threshold of Europe (therapy needed if that is the case), and you move back ten lovely Canada
I have a friend in rural Wales who sends me pictures of his outings in his area. It looks like a wonderfully calm place to be (with plenty of great sightseeing opportunities), which would be a welcome change from the NYC area.
Still cracks me up when he tells me of his ‘long drives’ up to Manchester. And then he laughs at me driving 1300 miles round trip to Detroit for a puppy.
I’d move there, but relocating to another country is not quite that easy when I’d essentially have no credit there.
Spend a coupla’ weeks there and then get back to us. We spent a month in England 20 years ago. It rained. A lot. As in- it rained for nearly the entire time we were there. I know weather doesn’t seem like a big deal but that would absolutely drive me insane.
The other thing that blew me away was how racist a decent chunk of the British folks were. Racist against the Welsh for example, assuming they were all stupid and dumb.
Thanks for the kind words, Thomas, you’re also a delightful human being. If you decide to move on over, good news: you won’t need to get an IVA for the boxster. You will need to sort out the headlights and make sure that it has a rear fog light for the MOT, but otherwise, no IVA required. I went through the same process with my Jeep. Happy to help if and when it happens.
https://www.gov.uk/vehicle-approval/exemptions-from-vehicle-approval
Sounds like an awesome experience. It’s definitely on my bucket list although I don’t know if I’d like this or the Revival better.
“Hoi polloi” means working class or commoners. Are you saying that the lounge was for commoners, or are you referring to yourselves crashing the party as being the “hoi polloi?” I used to listen to a morning radio show where one of the hosts would sometimes incorrectly use “hoi polloi” in context of something high class and would even do the Thurston Howell voice when he said it. It bristled me to the point that I actually called the show to tell him, and he didn’t realize he had been using the term totally wrong for many years until I brought it up.
I would highly recommend making a change if it suits your tastes and lifestyle! There is still plenty of life ahead of you, and making big moves typically gets harder as you get older.
Seconded. If there’s nothing keeping you in North America, do it before there is and you can’t.
Agreed, do the big change now before your life is entrenched in things and it becomes almost impossible to change things. I had to wait until my mid-50s and I kick myself all the time about not doing it sooner.
When I went over last fall, I flew out on election day and landed to The News, and not the Huey Lewis kind. Then spending a week in a relatively sane country in surprisingly good weather (the whole cold and wet thing was VERY oversold, it felt like a chilly winter day in Hawaii) felt like coming up for air after diving deep in a pool. Going to the NEC Classic Motor Show was completely mind bending for my little American brand. Oddly, finding random Mexican food and numerous drinks with Adrian factored into my trip as well. Coming home was a painful shock to the system. Tickets to England in November are surprisingly cheap though, so I’m lined up to do it again, just not combined with buying a car again
Its absolutely lovely to find a place that speaks to you in a language you understand. I’m all small town, 100%. Getting out of crowded areas to live in place where people park broken tractors in their yard as an art piece was exactly what I needed, and I’m grateful I got to pull it off. I hope you get to as well, even if you find that isn’t actually 90 minutes outside of London.
It is not broken and I parked it there for reasons (shorter walk to the door stuff mostly) Also I am only 90 minutes outside London, or 9 hours without the private jet that I do not have.
Being 90 minutes out side of London as well using A127 or A13 and yet I find that it is often longer than 90 minutes as there is a time anomaly surrounding London called the M25 Stasis Field and time does not pass there. One moment you are carrying along at a brisk pace and then time and disance stop. Suddenly you find yourself in London and time begins again. However, you then realize that considerbly more time than 90 minutes has passed! It is quite unnerving…
I would highly recommend moving to the UK to anyone as it is so much more alive in that you walk to the corner shop (where you can mail items on a Sunday!) or to numerous parks and green ways and it isnt as car driven as I was used to on the west coast. I can even say that I have spent the better part of 20 years living on beautiful tropical islands in the Caribbean and I still keep returning to the UK! Groceries are so inexpensive (though prices keep rising) and it is far less expensive than the US. Utility prices are a joke but not much different than the Caribbean or California. Licensing and insuring a car as a foreigner though is expensive – lots of silly taxes. Buying cars and motorbikes is a whole different story and so many, many, awesome bargains -not to mention odd and desirable choices eveywhere…