Bit of a gap in postings, for which I apologise, but there have been two very good, inter-connected reasons for that. Firstly, I have just returned from a week's sleeping in a wet, muddy field in France for the
24 Heures Du Mans. However, before I could get away for it, I had to complete a project which had a ridiculous deadline (which wasn't actually met but I managed to get extended somewhat) which was agreed by my boss with no actual consultation of the technical staff who would be doing the job (i.e. me). As a result, I had to spend several weeks working until 7 or 8 every night and do some work on weekends too. After getting home, I didn't much feel like writing anything so I didn't and I didn't have any time to think about what I might rattle on about anyway.
Anyhoo, I finally got the work done before I left (or at least, enough done in the time - many thanks to my colleague for picking up some of the tasks late in the day and doing a fantastic job on them) and I was working right up to the moment I left for my trip as I went straight from the office. Boy, did I need that break. It's only been a week in total and during that time I have driven over 1000 miles and had a day at home so only 4 full days were spent at Le Mans. Having set off at stupid o'clock on the Wednesday morning, we drove through some dodgy looking weather and a tug from the Gendarmes who took a dim view of the ninth member of our party being tied to the back of the van (a blow up sex-doll called Ruby - long story but suffice to say it was a piss take of an incident involving one of the lads a few years ago at Le Mans) to find the campsite dry, warm and not a little sunny so we immediately cracked open the beers and set about erecting our sleeping quarters. We had with us a borrowed 9 metre long marquee type thing with no floor which had been used by the group before (there were 8 of us this year). However, we managed to make the
Chuckle Brothers look like a crack team of tent building specialists but eventually got the marquee up, the gazebo up, the gas BBQ and hob plumbed in, the generators running, both fridges going (and stocked with beer in one, food in the other), the stereo on, the wooden A-frame and sofa rigged up with ropes to make a garden swing chair and the microwave heating up the massive bowl of chilli we brought for the evenings dinner. Oh, and we had also laid the carpet in the marquee and rigged up the fluorescent lighting in the marquee and gazebo. Needless to say, we got a bit drunk (we had something like 15 crates of beer which is about 160 pints, 6 1/2 litres of vodka and a litre of Irish Whisky) and had a thoroughly enjoyable evening. Sadly, about 1am it started to rain. A lot. It dawned on us that our spot was perhaps not the best as rain poured down off the track through the campsite, under the walls of the tent and into out sleeping area. Several of us had been planning to sleep on the floor all week (with airbeds, of course) but the ferocity of the rain soon made us re-consider.
Sadly, the pattern was set and the time we were there was mostly overcast and humid with vicious downpours that turned everything into a sea of mud 8 inches deep. We had to visit a local camping store so people could buy wellies. I bought a camp bed so I wouldn't be on the floor, two lads had brought with them their own tent and they moved into that as it had a groundsheet and one other guy bought a self erecting tent and shifted his bed into there. Still, the alcohol staved off the cold and we had a bloody good time, racing on the go-karts, driving down the famous Mulsanne straight, watching people in fast cars and bikes doing burnouts, wheel spins and donuts on the road alongside the campsite, and finally, watching the racing.
Now, I like cars, especially big, noisy, immensely powerful ones. I went to the British Grand Prix a few years back and experiences a noise from those incredibly high revving engines that I thought would never be matched. Wrong. It wasn't the LMP1 cars, like the Audi that won of the Peugeot that came second which sounded so good. They are diesel engines and are eerily, spookily even, quiet. Now was it their petrol engined counterparts from numerous other teams. Nor was it the less punchy LMP2 cars. No, it was the GT cars, GT1 class to be more precise and one or two of the GT2s as well.
The GT classes are all based on road cars so they are recognisable - the
Aston Martin DB9, the
Corvette C6, the Porcshe 911 GT3, Ferrari 430,
Spyker C8 Squadron, Ferarri 550 Maranello, Lamborghini Murcielago and others besides. They're not even as powerful as formula one cars (in the region of 600bhp for GT1 and 450-500 for GT2) but they are light, they look fantastic and sound like nothing else. Every time the Aston Martins (one of which won the class and came 5th overall) changed gear, there was a terrific bang of overrun when un-burnt fuel ignites in the exhaust. The V12 positively howls with a noise to make the hairs on the back of any enthusiast’s neck stand on end. The Corvettes, meanwhile, have a lower much more growling V8 that barks and roars and makes the ground shake (literally). The Spykers provided twin flashes of combusting fuel every time they slowed down for a sharp bend and the
Panoz V8s (run by
LNT Racing) are so loud they almost hurt.
They look good too. The Aston Martin DB9 is a handsome beast to start with but the DB9R is pure motoring porn. The Corvette is handsome in a brutalist sort of way and the Spyker in particular has a fantastically lean and nimble look about it. Of course, every one has a favourite and mine is Aston Martin, without a doubt, so I was glad they won and I celebrated by buying a team shirt for a sum of money which I will not reveal as it makes me wince and may draw from you, dear reader, the dis-approving tuts reserved for those with more money than sense (although in truth, I shouldn't have bought it precisely because I didn't really have enough money to do so, but never mind, I like it and that's all that matters).
Sadly, the weather meant there was a lot of safety car action; even the last hour of the race was a procession behind the safety car (although it did come in with 10 minutes to go) in atrocious conditions but we put up with the soaking to watch then race end. We then walked up the track to the pit area, as you are allowed to do here, where we stood directly below where the presentations were made to the winners. We were even briefly on TV (well, on of our umbrellas is visible. If I can be arsed to find it, and it's there to be found, I'll try and get a screen grab of it). As a memento, I took home a 'marble' (a piece of rubber from the tyres which scrubs off on corners and collects on the outside of the bend, making that area of the track more treacherous for the cars) and a chunk of carbon fibre and composite structure which I found in the grass and must have come from one of the cars.
We finished the trip by trying to blow up out microwave by microwaving a beer can full of petrol (doesn't work) and generally setting fire to stuff which seems to be a bit of a tradition amongst those staying the Sunday night, especially this year when people looked at the state their tents had gotten into and decided that they really couldn't be arsed to pack it, take it home and try and clean it then dry it out. SO, after another early start, we packed up and made good time home and I finally got back after 510 miles of driving at about 6 last night, tired but very smelly and dirty (there are few showers at the campsites and long queues so it's easier to not bother - it's not as if we were staying at
Claridges) and very much looking forward to a long, hot shower and a shave and being able to use a toilet whenever the mood strikes without having to queue. I even got some bargain 1997 Bordeaux Superieur on the way back.
Next year is already in planning - we are thinking of a
Top Gear style challenge which will see teams of two or three with a budget of 500 quid coming up with 'star cars' so anything from film or TV is fair game (big up to the two we saw this year - a VW Scirocco done up rather nicely as the De Lorean from Back to the Future and a big LDV van which had had it's asthmatic old diesel lump swapped for a V8 and had been painted bright orange with a confederate flag on top and a Dixie horn - the 'General LDV'. In a
Borat stylee, "Very naice, how much-a?"). There may well be a website for it too so if and when it happens, I’ll let you all know where to find it. Now though, I have had a day to recover and do the washing and clean the car (it was filthy inside and out) and tomorrow it’s back to work and reality but at least it’s a 3 day week. I’ll be counting the days until next year though – it may have been my fist visit to Le Mans but it certainly won’t be my last.
P.S. I'd like to big up
Decathlon for having probably the best outdoors and sporting goods stores I've ever been in - their camp beds are highly recommended! They're bloody good value too.