French Grand Prix

I was very interested in motor racing as a young man. Firstly motor cycle grass track racing, where I went with my parents, but later in motor racing of all sorts, rallying, saloon cars and of course Grand Prix racing cars.

We had planned a holiday to France and it seemed opportune to choose a date which coincided with the French Grand Prix. That year ( it was 1967 ) the race was held at Le Mans. This was not on the famous 24 hour race circuit which was much too long and anyway was partly on closed public roads. Rather the race was the Bugatti circuit which was much smaller and incorporated some of the larger circuit with all the stands, pits and paraphernalia of the modern circuit.

We had a rather difficult journey.  En route we crossed an area with long descents and long climbs. My Hillman Imp was dragging oil into the cylinders on descents, fouling the plugs and then misfiring on the ascents. The engine was well past its best and had worn valve stems. Still we arrived and camped a little way from the circuit.

The razza-ma-tazz was well under way, fairground and all. I don’t recall if there were minor races- probably they were. The Grand Prix got under way with my heroes such Graham Hill, Denny Hulme, John Surtees - all except Jim Clark who had been killed in testing earlier that year. Clark had a wonderful persona and was a natural driver like Stirling Moss.

It was a hot day and I was thirsty so wondering amongst the many stalls there was one selling cold drinks. Showing off my limited French I asked for an eau minerale quite forgetting in my pride that this was literally a mineral water and not lemonade as I fondly imagined ( that is limonade ). So I got what I asked for and quite revolting it was, stinking of hydrogen sulphide  The drink was also much more expensive than I expected and I was just short of the money to pay. This would have been embarrassing at the best of times but I couldn’t explain and apologise in French. Eventually I just slunk away, got the extra cash and paid up on my return. The stall holder just looked exasperated with the whole affair.

During the race a helicopter circled overhead. I later found they were filming the crowd for use in the film Grand Prix. I’ve always boasted that I was an extra in the film - which I was along with thousands of others.

With the problems with the car and the heat also, we diverted from our intention to drive south and headed for the nearest coast. We finished up on a camp site at Bretignolles which is near Les Sable d’Olonne. This is on the Atlantic so there were big waves. The beach lifeguards were the paramilitary Police ( the CRS ). They took no nonsense and if they advised no bathing nobody did.

When we arrived in early July the camp was only a third occupied. After Bastille day on the 14^th it filled up overnight. It was very windy and we had difficulty with the tent until a friendly Frenchman helped out. I felt like the traditional farcical beginner and he did look mildly amused.

While we were at the camp site the Renault travelling circus visited. While this was partly advertising Renault cars it was much more a fun PR exercise. I was in the crowd understanding perhaps one word in ten but it was mainly light hearted games which didn’t require knowing the language.

I was fascinated by some of the unusual brands and their car stickers. I managed to get one for Antar petrol which featured Asterix the Gaul

I’ve visited France quite a few times since but nothing surpassed the foreignness of that first visit.

Q What do you get if you cross a lion with a canary?

A I don’t know but if it sings you’d better listen