Imagine this: It’s the winter of 1987, and you’re standing on top of a ridge in Monte Carlo, overlooking a rough outline of a road covered in snow and ice, with little bits of tarmac peering out from underneath. You’re standing there, both jumpy from not only the cold, but also from what was about to appear around the corner. You hear it first, undoubtedly a little 4-cylinder, wringing out its revolutions, followed by a series of pops and bangs. And then it appears. What looks to be a tiny box on wheels, covered in a white, blue and red Martini livery, sliding aggressively through the flurry. You can almost see sweat drip down from the forehead of the driver, Miki Biasion’s face from intense concentration, while co-driver, Tiziano Siviero, is shouting out instructions at break-neck speed. People who were crowding the road before, run back to the edges as it ploughs its way through, cameramen snapping away. And as it whizzes off, you hear the unmistakable, aggressive chatter of the turb...
An encyclopedia of sorts, from a mind of endless information. An automotive journalist and photographer Est. 2015.