Let's be honest, for a certain type of bloke it is a bucket-list thing. The glory days of Jaguar, racing through the night, the romance, the glamour, Steve McQueen and all that. When a good friend of mine, who has a place in France, suggested a long weekend including a day at the Le Mans 24 Hour race I jumped at the chance. I suppose I am what might be called a Passive Petrolhead; I am less interested than I used to be - the last time I went to a Grand Prix Mansel was still racing - but there is something about the demented howl of a V8 that sets the blood a-pumping.