
The circuit is emptying out, but I'm staying a little longer. This is when the after-show begins: dismantling and cleaning up the site.
In the abandoned
garages
The final secrets are revealed in abandoned garages. A crumpled racing suit lying on a workbench, still infused with the smell of the driver's sweat and adrenalin. Scattered tools, silent witnesses to night-time repairs, last-minute tinkering and mechanical miracles at 3am.

The Le Mans Classic bus is waiting for its last passengers, engine idling, driver checking his watch. In two hours' time only the municipal workers and cleaners will still be here, erasing the last traces of this fleeting journey through automotive time.
On the walls, the sponsors' posters are already beginning to peel off in the morning dew. Le Mans Motors Club: the logo that gleamed under yesterday's spotlight now looks like a forgotten tag, a piece of temporary graffiti on Sarthe's timeless walls.

In a garage, mechanics finish dismantling the engine of a Porsche 917. Precise, meticulous, respectful. Each part finds its slot in the transport foam, every bolt is counted, checked and catalogued. The heart of the car that yesterday howled its way around the track is once again a jigsaw of metal and carbon fibre, ready for the next performance.




























