Thomas, 23, guards the entry gates with the firm politeness you learn on the job: "Sorry sir,

this is a restricted area." No matter what people come out with ("Gimme a break, I'm a friend of the manager…"), he responds with a smile, patiently repeating his mantra.

Sophie, 47, is familiar with every circuit in France, from the Monaco Grand Prix to the mountain rallies. In the Le Mans paddocks she's a storehouse of knowledge: "The toilets? Behind Porsche then to the right,

you can't miss them." She guides, reassures, helps out. Between rounds, she automatically picks up anything that's lying around, cups, crumpled programmes, cigarette butts. Not because it's her job, but out of habit.

The marshal in the orange hi-vis vest gets a radio call. In two minutes, he may be running towards a serious incident. A trapped driver, the beginnings of a fire.

Or simply going to find a visitor lost in car park P3. He never knows, and that's his job: to be ready for anything.