Jason’s Le Mans Debut
” Why did it take me so long to discover this?”

Thursday
4am alarm (yes this time does exist) finish packing the car, and start the trundle down to Dover, managing to catch an earlier boat (this will later prove to be good luck). After a fry up and copious amounts of coffee on top of the Red Bull on the drive down I’m buzzing already - Are we there yet???

First off the boat at Calais - isn’t priority booking a great thing? A quick stop on route for food for lunch, and fuel. Seeing the camping pass in the windscreen we followed a Ford Galaxy out of the car park and thought – “he knows where he’s going”, two tours of the same roundabout proved he didn’t.

What’re those drops on the windscreen? - rain, I didn’t order any, take it away. Our slightly slower pace caused by the torrential rain did mean we passed / were passed by some exotic and not so exotic cars on the run to the Amiens tolls (€6.3) watching those in the right hand drive cars struggle to reach the booths, I should laugh as I nearly fall out the window to reach the card slot.

If you can’t find Le Mans don’t worry, just follow the British cars on the motorway, some exotic like the Porsche GT3 that blasted past us (we‘d see him later). By the time we reached Alencon, having passed the GT3 talking to the nice Gendarme, it’s time to dig out the directions culled from the ‘net, and successfully follow them straight to the main gates. Nice theory and almost spot on. After two more trips around the area we finally see signs to the campsite (sorry Mr Frenchman, didn’t see you) having now located Houx and our slot: time to put the marquee up.

Did Graham say Terry & June? More like Laurel & Hardy, I could just see our neighbours putting bets down as to whether we’d have the tent up by the end of Sunday.

So two hours later, and having moved the tent four times, we’re off to see the last hour of qualifying (thankfully we got the earlier Ferry, otherwise we’d have missed the lot!).

Camped just behind the Ford chicane, you’d think we could watch from the inside, but couldn’t find anywhere, so walked up to the village. At the end of the session, off to get a beer (or three) with friends. Saw Malcolm and Graham heading ‘home’ at the end of the day, went over (and yes Graham I was on the edge of being drunk. Well you would be too if you hadn’t eaten much all day (excuses etc…)) – (Actually he was royally p***ed and we were jealous, having just staggered out of the press room and into the carnival atmosphere of the village GG)

Went back to the tent to hook up the cold box to the electrics, but the adapter doesn’t fit the cable. DAMN, have to cook the food soon. Off to bed, been up for a long 16 hours.

Friday
Up and a run out to the supermarket for the bbq / coals etc. Back in time for us to do the pit walk (as if I don’t see enough of them!) a trip out to the paddock meets me with the dsc guys and a “throw out” from the Lister pit for wearing my dsc advertised Rollcentre shirt! Were then taken to lunch by British photographer Keith Killingback (who thankfully has loaned me a temporary camera, mine breaks one week before leaving) and we’re set for the drivers’ parade. So just by the Cathedral at the point where the parade is due to finish we’re all set, and what a spectacle, the crowd lining the roads are 3-4 deep at best. Thankfully I got a place at the front. It lasts for two hours and closes down a large area of the town centre, the early drivers staying in the back of their cars, but as the parade goes on, more and more are ‘meeting and greeting’. This is what delays the parade, but who cares, it’s more than you get at any other high level event

By the time we got back after dinner and more beers (can you spot a trend here?) we were too tired to care about much, a coffee and bed. And that was Friday. Really a busy and packed day.

Race Day
With a leisurely start, we totally missed the GpC race, but listened to it on Radio Le Mans over a bacon butty breakfast. Time to wander over for the start and mooch around the stalls, it is now that we meet up with our newest member of the group, Joanne, not only is she a LM virgin, but a true race virgin, having never been to a circuit before (an F1 follower which we didn’t hold against her), and had decided to buy her passes just seven days before the race through a motorsport holiday company.

A walk through the village to get some lunch and then down to between the Porsche curves and the Ford chicane. It’s hot and sunny time to get the wine out, right I have the corkscrew, where’s the wine? Back at the tent! So off goes Anita to get the bottle and cups. Back in time for the release to grid and then the entertainment could start. There are plenty of places to view from that don’t have that obstructed a view, except for the ever present catch fencing, and those daft enough to climb it.

After the first hour and a half a slow walk back up towards the pit area to watch some stops and a trip through the village en route to the tent, a bbq and sunset at about 10, listen to Radio Le Mans, an Audi in the lead, Rollcentre in sixth and the TVRs and Morgan still running.

Because of concerns over being able to get back on the buses that stop at midnight, decided to leave Mulsanne until the morning. Our next trip out was via the funfair, at 1am. I was dared to do the bungee, and for someone who dislikes heights, but loves adrenaline rides this was almost too much, but I did it (new shorts please).

Time to catch up on the track action so a walk on the inside round towards Dunlop, getting tired now so a quick sleep so that we’re feeling fresher for the sunrise in two hours. Starts to get light at about 4am, so watching from Ford (again) as the sun comes up we’ve reached Dunlop, and what a sight. Watching the cars through this early time of day, only to realise there is still just under 12 hours to go! So time for caffeine and to prepare for the journey to Mulsanne.

Just as we start our journey to Mulsanne, news filters through that Shorty has had a big off at Porsche Curves. Damn, what does he have to do to finish here? We get to the main entrance, only to lose all sight of any signs for the buses for Mulsanne.

Ah that’s why, someone has parked in front of the sign. So into the small carpark opposite the museum and a fight to get on, no queuing, just board using elbow power. The drive is about 15/20 minutes and will drop off/pickup at Arnage / Indianapolis first, but not on the way back (something to remember when coming at night).

Mulsanne is a fairly large enclosure with a quick view as the cars speed off to Indianapolis. After an hour here, time to consider getting back to grab a bite and a place in the tribunes for the finish. So back to the pickup point for the scramble onto the bus, and back so that we can find a place to sit opposite the large screen at the pit exit - and we just sat for the next 2 ½ hours waiting, watching the Audis battle at the front, but knowing there was a close battle further down the field.

Come the finish, cheering home the TVRs and Morgan, we joined the throng for the ladders that get you onto the track (I’m not jumping six feet into a concrete canyon thank you) now the surge is on to get to the front for the podiums, so into the pitlane and down by the garages, I get quite a way before I need to start to squeeze through. By this time I’ve lost sight of Anita and Jo, so a pre arranged meeting under the podium, then a walk on the track up to the exit of the Porsche curves and back again before heading back to the tent for evenings BBQ and alcohol fuelled jocularity (who emptied that Gin bottle?): with a family of Germans on one side and French on the other, we managed a fun evening.

With a hangover and the liver on double time we pack the tent on Monday morning, say our goodbyes to all, with a plan to meet up at Combe to continue the party.

There is no single highlight for me, I had a great time so picking out from the drivers parade / race start / 1am at Dunlop / Sunset over the campsite / sunrise at Dunlop is tough. However, one person made the weekend, Joanne, she had such an enthusiasm was truly enthusiastic and that even managed to spread to two cynical veterans of motorsport.

What a weekend, I leave Le Mans with two questions: why did it take me so long to come, and where do I book for next year?