When life gives you Le Mans

It always feels like nobody’s coming, Monday morning at Le Mans. Sitting, feet dangling over the railings of the old pit wall, looking at the length of the famous front straight reflected in the windows of the large pit building, which dominates the landscape of the circuit. You can’t imagine the masses that will fill the place in just a few days’ time.

For scrutineering on Monday, most teams minibus the drivers into Le Mans town centre for their kit and helmets to be checked. Race suits must be worn in the middle of proceedings for photographs. Now suited and booted, you are momentarily mobbed: autographs, selfies and everything in between. Photos complete, in jeans and T-shirt, and you’ll be eating dinner 30 paces away, once more in total anonymity.

Hold on, I thought I was famous?