One grands prix in 2013 (including Abu Dhabi and Singapore) – but nothing so far has compared to what I felt sitting on the main straight at Le Mans.
Come 3am, we bailed and got some sleep. The Danes behind us had dropped their flags to half-mast, and the music had stopped.
We were back up at 7am, this time overlooking the Dunlop Curves and the entry to Tetre Rouge. Again, seeing the cars tackle this section of track was incredible. Watching the Audis, I kept thinking “there’s no way it can carry that much speed through the corn- ah wait it just did!” It was mesmirising, seeing these drivers go flat out lap after lap after lap; I miss that in Formula One.
Come the final hour, we made our way down to the start-finish line so we could see the drivers take the chequered flag. When Sebastien Buemi unlapped himself with less than an hour to go, a huge roar went up from the partisan crowd. Ultimately, the Toyota couldn’t sustain such pace and eventually dropped back behind the #2 Audi, and in came the cars. The crowd spilled out onto the track and beneath the podium as the magnitude of what the drivers had achieved sunk in. Of course, Kristensen was the star, but following the darkness of Saturday afternoon, it was a solemn victory – but the right result. A Dane needed to win the race on Sunday.
On the Sunday night, we ventured into Le Mans town centre to find a restaurant (quite naively; the French don’t do Sundays…). Eventually, we found a small place where we enjoyed a slap up dinner and far too much red wine. We made sure to raise a glass to Allan. It was a nice way to end race day, as we had a good laugh about our lads’ weekend away. After a while, we got chatting to the waiter and asked him about what Le Mans meant to him.
“It’s amazing!” he said. “For the rest of the year, we’re a small town. But for this week, everything comes alive. It’s wonderful for everyone in Le Mans. I’m proud to come from and live in this town.”
And that summed up everything that Le Mans is. It’s a festival. A fever. One weekend where the racing world unites in a far flung French field.
It’s now May 2014, and I’m sitting in at my desk, doing some work. A world away from that muddy French field in the shadow of the great ferris wheel. I long to return though. So, so much has changed over the past year.
I headed to Le Mans knowing next to nothing about endurance racing. Now though, I’m known by my friends as a “WEC fanboy.” Frankly, I don’t resist that nickname; I embrace it. Since Le Mans, I’ve missed just one WEC race. Although COTA clashed with the Singapore Grand Prix, I managed to catch 90 minutes’ worth whilst wolfing down a Subway in Changi Airport. It was so refreshing to watch that following Sebastian Vettel’s domination under the lights; my favourite moment of racing that weekend was on the other side of the world to where I was.
The cohesive nature of the WEC has opened up endurance racing to a whole new fanbase: I think I’m proof of that. I’m already pumped for this year’s race, knowing that I’ll have an even greater understanding and appreciation of what is unfolding before my eyes.
I think I’ll even make a point of sharing a beer with the Danes this time around, too.