Last week I got to talk to James Hunt's son, Freddie, and his plans in the Le Mans 24 Hours. I was slightly starstruck to say the least. Sort of.

I am a keen listener of Radio Le Mans, so I had already known about Freddie's venture into sportscar racing and I sort of knew what he was doing.

It was a spur of a moment, quite honestly, he had something to write on Twitter, so I popped him the interview question:

...to which he replied:

That raised an eyebrow for sure. I give him my e-mail address and comes back:

Hi Gabor,

How would you like to do the interview? Email or Skype?

Cheers

To which I replied Skype would be actually awesome and I could already feel my pulse accelerating. I asked him if he was available later in the afternoon.

Im supposed to have an interview now on the telephone so after that would be good. I will add you now and call you after the interview.

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Holy Cow! Now I was in trouble. He caught me totally unprepared, so I started opening tabs frantically, to catch up with everything I missed out on.

Soon after he did call me, and quite frankly, I was searching for words: It was James Hunt's voice coming out of my headphone, addressing me.

Not an easy task to conduct an interview when

  • the language you're using is not your native tongue
  • you are unprepared
  • you meet something that awesome

Freddie was cool and collected, toatally professional, gave round and well-put answers to my dodgy inquiries, but listening back I was asking rather interesting questions.

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So, here is what we talked about.

(note: don't forget to catch Freddie at the Monaco Grand Prix this weekend, he's down there and I'm sure there are plenty people putting microphones under his nose)

(note 2: what you can learn from such encounters is that many times you just have to ask)

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