Aysedasi's Le Mans

Eventually, we set off back the way we had come and by about 8.30 a.m., a combination of tiredness and hunger forced a rest at one of the eateries high above the Esses, where we partook of emmental and ham baguettes and a cup of reviving strong black coffee.  The baguettes may have been slightly stale by now but they still tasted good on a very empty stomach.

Realising the dangers of sitting down for too long (that is, not being able to get back up again!), we decided to move on after half an hour or so.  By this time, although the Boutsen Toyota was still holding the lead, further gearbox dramas meant that the two works Porsches were homing in on it, now on the same lap.  Peter and I were beginning to bite our nails by this time.  I think it is reasonable to say that, with something like five hours of the race still to go, it seemed to be building to potentially the most exciting finish to a Le Mans for years, perhaps since 1988, and the race was certainly living up to the hype which had been bandied about beforehand about this looking like the best race for years.

So we made our way back at something of a snail’s pace.  Although I think Peter was beginning to feel the strain a little more than I was (as a fully paid-up member of the Le Mans “All Night” club), I have to admit that even I was feeling very tired, and my legs felt as though they weighed a ton!  Our meanderings back up to the tribunes were so slow, in fact, that we didn’t reach the Dunlop Chicane until about 11.00 a.m. by which time we were into the last three hours of the race.

In the village, we did the usual rounds of all the shops and stalls, on the lookout for the stickers and posters which are sometimes given away.  (I always have to make sure, these days, that I manage to pick up three of everything - two for the boys and one for my own collection!).  I had, of course, sorted out things on the t-shirt front much earlier.

It was time for a visit to the M.R.I. marquee for another jus d’orange and to make use of the highly prized “facilities”.  It was also an opportunity to rest our weary feet again, and watch a few minutes of the race on the French television screens in the marquee.  That’s always rather strange, watching the race on T.V. with the cars thundering past only a matter of yards away!

Peter and I very quickly concluded that further walking was now beyond us, so we decided to finish the race the way we had started, by spectating just before the Ford Chicane.  We therefore watched the last hour or so of the race from here, and you can imagine our enormous disappointment when it was announced on Radio Le Mans (which we had been listening to almost constantly all night and all morning), that the Boutsen, Less and Kelleners Toyota had stopped with gearbox failure, leaving the McNish, Aïello and Ortelli Porsche in the lead from the sister car.  We were gutted!  One day, surely, it will be Toyota’s year - next year, perhaps?

2.00 p.m. soon arrived and the 66th Le Mans 24 Hours was over.  There was little else for it but to pay our farewells to Le Circuit Permanent de la Sarthe and make our way back to our coach, which lay a much further walk away than it had yesterday (or so it seemed!).  The coach was due to depart the circuit for Le Havre at 3.30 p.m., but I was keen to get back early to stow all my gear, and to set about another change of clothes, ready for the journey home.  In fact, this time, I decided to squeeze my bag on board the coach (rather than in the luggage compartment), so that I could take it on the boat to make use of it in our cabin on the way home.