‘NICE’ work if you can get it
Flags bearing the tricolour of France and the logos of the French Grand Prix flap and stretch taut in the stiff breeze blowing in off the Mediterranean. High above the bustling Promenade des Anglais, one of the most famous and evocative seafronts in the nation, the sun is engaged in a protracted arm-wrestle with a particularly large and fluffy cumulus cloud whose bovine pace stands in stark contrast to the force of the breeze. It is as if the very elements themselves are digging in their heels and saying… wait for it…!
Of Daniel Ricciardo there is no sign except for an excited knot of humanity rolling in from the borders of the French Grand Prix Roadshow Fan Village, attesting to his presence like a moving radar trace. Surrounded by a throng of selfieseeking supplicants waving phones, notebooks and pens, Daniel arrives – maybe. There’s too many people to see past, but the vivid yellow cap and flashes of that 1000-watt grin suggest he’s there.
Those on the other side of the barriers crane their necks and hold their gimbals and
