Browse Sections

• Personal finance
• Health and beauty
• Dating
• Holidays 
  • Holiday reviews
• Hotels
• Food and drink

Festival of speed

Simon Donohue
21/ 6/2008

IT'S said the Le Mans 24-hour race is the automotive equivalent of Glastonbury - and the description isn't far short of the mark.

On one crazy weekend each year, a town associated with little much else becomes home to hordes of happy car fans intent on soaking up plenty of booze, throaty exhaust note decibels and claiming any piece of green space on which they can pitch a tent as a little part of England.

Just as music fans might wallow in mud with one ear on the Pyramid stage, the action on the circuit itself is both central and incidental to the proceedings at the same time.

Adventure

A large proportion of the record 250,000-plus crowd who travelled to the Pays de la Loire region of north western France for this year's 24 Hours of Le Mans had made their way from Britain.

High rollers and their guests are able to fly direct to the airport, which sits alongside the circuit itself, and I was fortunate enough to travel by private plane as a guest of Peugeot Sport.

But nice as it was, air travel possibly defeats the object, as for the vast majority of Brits the adventure actually starts when they start to meet fellow Le Mans-bound traffic on the roads down to the ferry ports and channel tunnel crossing.

From Lamborghinis in pastel shades to classic Ferraris and bog-standard saloons boasting insulation tape numbers and driver names, they're all here.

Some arrive days in advance of the race itself, find a suitable grass verge, and take advantage of the cheap supermarket booze and French bread.

Those who do venture beyond the confines of the circuit and into the historic heart of old Le Mans discover that not only is it prettier than you'd expect, but that it too has been occupied by the automotive hordes.

Carnival atmosphere

And there's no better time to visit than on the eve of the big day itself, Friday night, when the streets are turned over to the Grand Parade des Pilotes - or big parade of drivers.

The parade is organised by the Classic Automotive Club in conjunction with the Automobile Club de L'Ouest which organises the race itself.

There's a real carnival atmosphere, with thousands of locals and tourists lining the streets as the magnificent men - and a few wondrous women - who will drive the following day are treated to a passenger ride in dozens of rare, vintage and downright exotic machines.

Among the vehicles on show this year were the forthcoming RCZ roadster of my Peugeot sponsors and the Tesla electric sports car, which looks uncannily like a Lotus Elise.

And given that motorsport hasn't yet been completely cleaned up by the politically correct, there was also space among the `pilotes et voitures' for the `oh la la!' talents of the Hawaiian Tropic girls.

Maybe that's one way in which left-of-field Glastonbury differs dramatically from the raucous rocker covers of Le Mans!

Given that the Hawaiian ladies really are only the stuff of dreams for most of the men who have their photographs taken with them, it's fitting that everyone takes an early night before the day of the big race.

Delightful

Race day dawns with a delicious glimpse of sunshine to warm the hearts of the Peugeot pit crew, who know that their cars are faster than arch-rivals Audi, but only if the track remains dry.

I'm staying at one of the many places which throws open its doors to Le Mans visitors at this time of year, a splendid 17th century chateau in the village of La Chapelle where its delightful French owners provide the Peugeot party with croissants, bread and home-made jam.

It's cheating, I know, but I've stayed under canvas enough times to know that the romance of it all is no match for a warm shower and view of a lake stocked with Japanese Koi carp.

This is the moneyed flip-side of Le Mans and away from the impromptu tented village of the circuit itself, the surrounding countryside provides a temporary, not to mention decidedly more genteel, home to countless motoring clubs and classic car owners.

We make the circuit in plenty of time for the curtain-raising first race, which features classic Le Mans cars from the early 1990s, with signs like Texas Homecare and John Player Special demonstrating how much the world has changed.

It's a baptism of bubbling exhaust notes - the perfect appetiser for the main event. Vantage points around the circuit - which includes roads normally used by Le Mans traffic - slowly begin to build up. As does the atmosphere and tension.

Dramatic

Four separate classes of car compete in the 24 Hours of Le Mans itself - pitching futuristic sports cars alongside more familiar vehicles based on road-going sports cars like Aston Martins and Porsche 911s.

The most dramatic moment comes as all 55 cars follow the safety vehicle around the circuit as part of the rolling start ahead of the race beginning at exactly 3pm.

Peugeot has first, second and third place on the starting grid, followed by Audi who have fourth, fifth and seventh.

Twenty two cars in total compete for the coveted LP1 class prize, with 11 lined up for the LP2 class, 10 in the GT1 class and 12 in the GT2 class.

And then they're off. As a 24-hour motorsport virgin, it's hard not to be awe-struck by the sheer speed of the vehicles, some of them travelling beyond 200mph, and the way that they slide dramatically through corners.

I dip in and out of the race as the hours progress, listening into Le Mans radio and watching the giant screens to keep abreast of the action.

I walk the mainly British Mainson Blanche campsite where the Gloucester Boys invite me to have a beer atop the scaffold they've brought with them.

Surreal

Maison Blanche is filled with mountains of bottles, exotic cars, and tent encampments to easily rival small South African shanty towns. The smell of sizzling sausages competes against burning rubber to fill the air as the heat of the afternoon slowly subsides and the Peugeot hospitality tent beckons.

The atmosphere changes as day turns to night and red hot brake discs light up the tarmac. It feels almost surreal to think that these brave men and women will still be at the wheel while I'm tucked up in bed at chez chateau.

By 2am, I leave the circuit, and return at 10am to the news that Audi have taken advantage of the rain to steal the lead.

There's a lot of work for Peugeot to do, and, despite the elongated race, not enough time to do it in.

In the end, Peugeot come second and third. Quite astonishingly, it's the length of their pit-stops which robs them of first place, taken for the third time in a row by Audi.

My feet are killing me, my throat is dry and I feel as though I've spent all night standing next to a speaker stack turned up to 11. But it seems that Le Mans rocks every bit as much as a muddy musical festival.

Simon Donohue travelled to Le Mans as a guest of Peugeot Sport. Visit www.lemans.org for ticket details.