The sun is shining this morning in Portimao, but it's a brisk 50 degrees Fahrenheit - you can see every breath you take, even if you're not Sting. The track is still damp, so the riders are tiptoeing around the circuit, running lap times more than 15 seconds off the pole pace. The British Superbike immigrants continue to impress, with Rea, Haslam, and Crutchlow in the Top 5. Bayliss and Corser are up front too, lending hope to those rooting for a career capping victory from Bayliss, or Corser finally getting a win in his last race for Yamaha. If the young Brits can keep it on two wheels, we just may get some surprises here in Portugal.

It looks like there will be a good crowd here today, the rumor is 35,000 tickets to the event were sold. The main road is open, and we got in with no problems. The F1 Toro Rosso (Red Bull) demo team is here and doing laps twice a day; I've only heard F1 cars on television, and of course, in person the shriek of the Toro Rosso as it heads up towards 20,000 revs is just mind blowing.

There will be a tribute to fallen World Supersport rider Craig Jones this afternoon at 3:45. The owners of the Autodromo, who are also involved in the Parkalgar team, will be officially naming a corner after him. Jones of course lost his life after a crash at Brand's Hatch earlier this season, and was subsequently replaced for the remainder of 2008 by Josh Hayes.

Riders are fairy unanimous in their praise of the Algarve circuit, Troy Bayliss apparently stated that it is the 2nd favorite racetrack he's ever competed on (it's believed that Philip Island was his fave). Ben Spies seems to truly pining for a go, looking quite bummed that he has to wait until Tuesday to turn a wheel in anger.

Lots of people are sick here, breakfast this morning was a symphony of hacks, coughs, honking noses, and bubbling nostrils. Surprisingly, this didn't deter the sickened masses from parking themselves just outside the hotel front door for a quick smoke before getting on the bus. A dozen race fans, sitting on benches with fags stuffed in their faces, dressed in the livery of their favorite teams, bright colored jerseys of Ducati, Yamaha, Suzuki, Ten Kate Honda or Kawasaki. Before we rolled out, they all coughed and gobbed on the road, leaving behind an equally vivid residue on the tarmac.

As I write this, a bizarre space-dance is being performed on pit lane by about 50 really attractive young women, dressed identically in silver miniskirts and black bobbed and banged haircuts. One guy is among them, (thankfully) less scantily clad, with some kind of headdress that makes him look like a horse. I'm listening to New Order's "Blue Monday" on my ipod, so this looks kind of cool - whoops, the song shuffled over to Hank Williams, now it's a bit weird....