This is another drop from the same trip — Monaco, sunburnt asphalt, money in the air, and engines screaming like they mean it.
I was there as a guest, invited by Mars, the company I was working for at the time. Not gonna be fake-humble about it:
we crushed it.
With an absolutely killer team, we made it all the way to the European finals of the best company projects. Big stage, serious competition, and we showed up strong. Massive respect to everyone involved — that run still hits hard. 👊
But this post?
This one’s about cars.
Most of what you see here is from around 2013. And honestly?
These machines still slap.
No touchscreens pretending to be souls.
No fake engine sounds pumped through speakers.
Just real design, real power, real presence. The kind of cars that don’t ask for attention — they take it. Even today, they stop you mid-sentence. They make you stare. They make you shut up and just listen.
Monaco is a ridiculous backdrop for this kind of metal. Supercars casually parked like groceries. Paint jobs glowing in the sun. Exhaust notes bouncing off buildings that cost more than your entire bloodline. It’s obscene. It’s beautiful. It’s unforgettable.
This isn’t nostalgia.
It’s proof that great design and attitude age like fine whiskey.
So yeah — another set from the same journey.
Same streets. Same trip. Same memories.
Still hits like hell.
Respect to the people.
Respect to the team.
And eternal respect to cars that, a decade later, still make a fucking statement.
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