The 2023 24 Hours of Le Mans: The 100th Edition!

Amaury Chartier

Every year, I looked forward to the second half of June with great anticipation: the time to go to Le Mans was fast approaching on June 10 and 11, 2023!

I was 12 years old, and together with my father and brother, I was finally able to watch the 24 Hours of Le Mans, the world’s greatest car race. It was a magical experience for me. But in 2023, it wasn’t just a race…

Everyone was saying it was the 100th time this race had been held. It was hard to believe. Even I, who didn’t yet know everything about the history of car racing, could sense that it was a special moment.

So we set off from Geneva to head to the family home in the Sarthe region, a place where the family has been gathering for nearly sixty years, in the hills above the city of Le Mans.

Once I arrived, I ran to the room that had been my father’s when he was young. It was full of memories. There were old motorsports magazines featuring famous drivers like Kristensen, Ickx, Bell, Pescarolo, Pironi, Pirro, and the Swiss driver Buemi. On the walls hung yellowed posters of Cevert, Arnoux, Senna, and Prost.

I still remember that weekend very clearly.

Before we left, with our delicious sandwiches made by my grandmother—some of them featuring the famous Rillettes du Mans—my father explained the teams, the drivers, and the race strategies to me. As for me, I mostly watched the red cars: the Ferraris. They were different. More beautiful. More famous. And my father had told me, “It’s been 50 years since they last won. If it happens today, you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.”

When the race started, I was really excited. At first, everything was moving fast—too fast. The passing, the pit stops, commentator Bruno Vandestick talking nonstop in his familiar voice… I tried to keep up with everything, but I got a little lost. Then night fell.

That’s when everything changed. The announcer spoke less often, the people around us quieted down, and the roar of the engines filled the air. In the darkness, with the delicious smell of hot dogs and fries in the air, only the headlights of the cars lit up the track.

The car bodies glistened under the lights with every passing car, as if in a dream.

I was having trouble staying awake. My dad had told me that staying up all night was “part of the race.”

Between falling asleep and waking up, I remember opening my eyes several times. Each time, he was still looking. And often, he would say softly to me, “Look, the Ferraris are still there…”

In the morning, I was tired, but I couldn’t look away. The race was getting tighter. Every little gap mattered between the Ferraris, Toyotas, Porsches, and Cadillacs.

My heart beat faster with every passing moment.

And then the final hours…

I found myself leaning closer to the screen without even realizing it. My father had almost stopped talking. We were both watching, completely absorbed.

When the No. 51 Ferrari driven by Calado, Giovinazzi, and Pier Guidi took the lead ahead of the Toyota and the Cadillac, I felt something strange. It was a mix of fear and joy, as if I were part of the team myself.

And when she crossed the finish line…

My dad raised his arms. So did I. We cheered and laughed. I even had tears in my eyes, without really knowing why. It was “just a race”… but no, not at all. It was so much more than that.

That was the story. That was the anticipation. That was the right moment.

Above all, it was the first time I’d ever experienced something like that.

My father looked at me and said, “You see, that’s Le Mans.”

And he was right.

Our encounter with the Ferrari wasn’t over yet. On the way back to Geneva, we passed the truck carrying the winning Ferrari on the highway. We honked our horns loudly to greet it.

That weekend, I realized that some victories aren’t just about the results. They’re memories that last a lifetime.