Back home again in Indiana
It seems that I can see
That gleaming candlelight, it’s shining so bright
Through the sycamores for me
That new mown hay sends all its fragrance
From the fields I used to roam
When I dream about the moonlight on the Wabash
Then I long for my Indiana home
– James F. Hanley & Ballard MacDonald
Tuesday 6 September
6am alarm clock for a 7am departure to Indianapolis. We lose an hour going out of the central time zone into the eastern time zone, and we had to be down in Indy by midday. Traffic coming out of Chicago was blessedly light.

The road down to Indianapolis is mostly flat, passing through some countryside, but the gap between the southern suburbs of Chicago and the city of West Lafayette seem to be merging into one another, and then Indianapolis isn’t that much further down the highway from there. What we saw plenty of was roadwork: multiple places along the road where one or two lanes were closed, whilst some pretty heavy-duty work was being undertaken. I guess the roads take a beating in those cold Midwestern winters.

Rick’s Boatyard Café was our destination, a great outdoor spot overlooking Eagle Creek Reservoir, and not far down the road from the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. We met Ryan Myrehn, who is a pit reporter for IndyCar Radio who we didn’t see in St Louis (he was on a sports car assignment in Wisconsin that weekend) and his lovely wife, Audrey. Great seafood and beer, and lots of talk about racing and Australia.

A quiet afternoon at our hotel in Speedway, Indiana (named for the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, of course, which is just down the road from us – we will visit there tomorrow) and in the evening, we ate amazing Greek food at Greek Islands, a restaurant downtown near Lucas Oil Stadium (home of the NFL’s Indianapolis Colts) which we were put onto three years ago by Mark Jaynes and his wife. The food is still brilliant. And it’s one of those places you wouldn’t know existed – it’s in a somewhat sketchy-looking part of town – unless you were the beneficiary of some local knowledge, like we were. Flaming cheese (saganaki) and Greek spaghetti – you can’t go wrong.