18 Jun 03
There's no track action at Le Mans on the Friday, but there's plenty going on at the campsites. The road running between the Maison Blanche site and Camping Bleu each year turns into an impromptu drag strip, with crowds of cheering lads on the verges encouraging drivers to stop, rev up and accelerate away with as much tyre-squealing and smoke as possible. A few boys are running around with buckets of water to slosh on the road, and many are armed with water pistols to shoot at the open-tops. Drivers passing through on their way to the supermarket are generally good sports, making a token effort, but there are a few who keep coming back to up the ante - top marks to the guys in the stretched Granada for rubber-burning, and a beautiful '60s Mustang was spectacular, but biggest cheers went to the French family in the ancient grey 2CV, who may not have been the quickest off the line, but were most entertaining. It's all very juvenile, but where else would you see sensible 50- and 60-somethings in Astons, Ferraris and even E-Type Jags behaving like Nova-driving teenagers in supermarket car parks? Sadly, it all gets a little out of hand when two blokes in red 911s take over both lanes to race side by side, narrowly missing oncoming traffic, and from that point, the gendarmes move in before anyone gets hurt. As the sun goes down, the barbecues are fired up, the lads who have been out drinking in the sun all day nurse their sunburn and the first of the fireworks are let off.
It's raining hard on Saturday morning, but still baking hot, and the odd flash of lightning fails to clear the heavy, muggy air. We don't make it trackside to see the Le Mans Classic one-hour race (as happens every year, it's just too early), though by all accounts it's one of the finest historic races in the world. We huddle under the gazebo - each year, we bring more and more stuff and wonder how we ever managed without it - and consider whether to put waterproofs on. Radio Le Mans is speculating over which tyres the teams will use - and then just as quickly as it started, the rain stops, and within minutes the sun is blazing again. With less than two hours before the start, the tyres are swapped back again, and the pit crews are lining up rubber for all eventualities. The boys make their way up to a packed grandstand to watch the opening ceremony, and I head for the press box, which gives a great view of the track and down into the pit lane. Outside, I meet Jethro from Evo magazine, dressed in the yellow De Walt colours of the TVR team. He's doing their pit lane signaling, but with an hour to go, he's not sure how the system works, nor what he's actually supposed to be doing, nor how long he has to stand out on the pit wall. "Not for long," sniggers a colleague. "They'll break down before dark."
