The one that took place at Place des Jacobins. The one where, as a kid, you’d keep your eyes glued to the entrance of the Quinconces, waiting to see which truck would turn up next.

The one where the mechanics had to act as security guards just to get the tailgate open.

The one where those beautiful machines were left at the mercy of amateur photographers before being examined down to the smallest detail by the scrutineers.

The one with the car perched at the top of the ramp, the Cathedral standing proudly in the background.

The one where some guys from Le Maine Libre or Ouest-France would shout at the top of his lungs through a microphone, trying to sell the first special edition of Le Mans week.

The one that earned me more than a few unexcused absences from school…

The one where my mother used to say, “Do you really think this is going to get you a job someday ?😊