reacting to british rally

Some of the cars in the British rally highlights looked like the car Steve’s got down the road. That was one of the first things I loved about them, even while I was breaking out in a cold sweat. I don’t know much about cars, but I could appreciate something that looked familiar doing things I wouldn’t want to attempt in it.

I’d already reacted to the Isle of Man TT, which terrified me, and people kept asking me to watch rally racing next. I’d never heard of rallying in this context before. By the end, I liked the cars, had questions about almost everything and was thinking about taking up fishing again.

Watch my British rally racing reaction on YouTube.

Cars that look like somebody’s car

The first compilation I watched was British Rallying Highlights 2023 from British Rally Media.

What kept catching my attention was how ordinary some of the cars looked. I know they’re not ordinary cars, but they didn’t all have that immediately recognisable racing-car shape I associate with F1 or the Indy 500. One looked more professional to me, while the earlier ones could have belonged to somebody down the street.

That was part of the appeal. Later, watching the UK edition of Best of Rally 2025 from Pascara Productions, I was trying to explain that I liked these cars more than the sort I usually pictured when I thought about racing. They reminded me of Dave’s tricked-out Honda, absolutely doing donuts on a UK street.

Trying to finish that explanation while watching was a problem. I’d start a sentence, react to another car and forget what I’d been saying. I loved it, but I was sweaty and nervous at the same time. Enjoying the cars didn’t make watching them any less stressful.

A Ford Fiesta rally car splashing through water at Wales Rally GB.
Illustrative photograph of Craig Breen’s Ford Fiesta at Wales Rally GB in 2010. Wales Rally GB 2010, photo: Stefan Brending, CC BY-SA 3.0 Germany. Unchanged.

The people beside the road

The spectators were another thing I couldn’t get over. In the first highlights, I noticed a man at the side of the road with no fence or padding between him and the cars tearing past. Other people were standing off to the side too. They were just out there.

I’d had the same reaction to the people watching the Isle of Man TT. The vehicles were different, but the sight of somebody standing beside the road still shocked me. It felt incredibly British to me, although I was saying that as someone watching all of this for the first time.

I also wondered about the experience of going to watch. A car passes so fast that you only see it for a few seconds before it’s gone again. If you love the sport, of course you’re going to want to be there, but I was still trying to get my head around that brief glimpse and all those people on the sidelines.

The crashes were less appealing. When I got to the Scottish/British highlights from 2012, a compilation called Crashes and Mistakes, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to watch it. Crashes aren’t what attracts me to racing. I had enough stress watching the cars go fast without adding that.

I was thinking about fishing

Some of the roads in another compilation reminded me of driving through the countryside here in England. I wasn’t sure where that footage was filmed, but the roads looked familiar. Country lanes can weave around with blind spots everywhere, and somebody going too fast used to stress me out. Watching racing on roads that looked like those was a lot for my nerves.

Meanwhile, my own ideas about trying something new were considerably less ambitious. I used to fish as a kid, primarily with my grandpa, and I’d been thinking about buying a rod and getting a fishing licence. That could be a fun little hobby to take up again.

Then there were these people racing full tilt along roads that looked like regular British roads, while I was considering a return to fishing. Really not the same thing, is it?

I kept saying I’d stop watching and then wanting just a little bit more. It was hard to look away, even with the stress. I can only imagine the excitement for somebody who actually takes part. Maybe I’ll take up fishing again.