Le Tour de France – 7/24/16
Jim and I met the first challenge of the day: finding a good
early Sunday morning breakfast near Moulin Rouge. The first open place we found featured some
colorful patrons enjoying their coffee and cigarettes before turning in for the
day. Our server apologized for having to
wait for the croissants to come out hot from the oven…
Doesn't everyone visit a cemetery before the Tour de France? Le Cimetière de Montmartre.
A major roadway is built over a portion of the cemetery
The kitty cat is alive
Anne Rice inspiration
Okay, I know what you REALLY want to hear about – Le Tour de
France! We returned to our apartment to
pack for the day: umbrellas, 4 water bottles, apples and apricots, cookies, my
inflatable seat cushion, sunscreen, sunglasses.
We stopped at the boulangerie across the street for the standard ham and
cheese baguettes and more croissants.
One Metro ride from the Blanche station and we emerged onto the Champs-Élysées,
blue sky, puffy white clouds and the Arc de Triomphe, one end of the final
eight-lap sprint of the Tour: a dream come to life.
People were milling about and beginning to stake out their
positions along the barricades. Jim and
I had planned to stroll down the famous street to the far end of the race route
at the Jardin des Tuileries…but there is a skinny shade tree, an unobstructed
view to see the cyclists circle the Arc and pass by on the opposite side. Maybe…we should stay right here?
Looking right
Looking left
A Danish family with 5 boys had claimed space with blankets,
snacks and books to read. Bathrooms were
available at the McDonald’s on the next block, so that sealed the deal. Our new home until the race starts! If Jim can hike with me for 10 days, I can
stand in one spot for 8 hours.
Police made a cursory check of our backpacks, but as
the crowd increased they just walked around as a show of presence. We commented that this would be an excellent
venue for terrorists and the attack in Nice just the week before was fresh in
our minds – but do we live our lives in hiding?
No easy answer.
Amid the street fair atmosphere people streamed up and down
the wide sidewalk. All the stores and
restaurants were bustling. We observed that
people just hung out socializing until the cyclists came by, then everyone
crushed to the barricades. Once the
cyclists whizzed past, the spectators went back to smoking, eating, drinking and
shopping until the next lap.
La Course, the women’s race, arrived about 1:30 p.m., sooner
than we expected, and the crowd ebb and flow began. Those of us at the very front found our
vantage points shrinking to mere inches, but I realized that rather than
guarding our spaces, we became fast friends with the diehards around us and we
watched out for each other. If you had
to leave for a bathroom break, your space (albeit small) would be there when
you got back. Kind of like the pit at a
Springsteen concert!
Jim's bucket list
Best buddies on the front lines: a young couple from Barcelona, the guy a
knowledgeable cycling enthusiast (Jim’s new best friend today); a very tall
Canadian fellow hovering over my head (I nicknamed him Lurch) who was working
in Paris for the summer but had spent time cycling in Boone, NC; a French
family, mom/dad/young son, and dad worked for USAirways and trained in
Charlotte; an Irish family who was on a camping holiday in the French
countryside, came into the city to see what the race was all about. We grownups
indulgently let the kids up front to see the race until they got bored (usually
only one lap).
2690J Jim checking off his bucket list
We didn’t expect the parade between races – team sponsors
with giant inflatables throwing candies into the crowd.
Fun to watch for a while, but it went on beyond our
attention span. Where is the men’s
race??? Lurch was following on his
phone, reporting the pelaton location minute by minute. They reached Paris later than anticipated, perhaps
because the winner was assured (Chris Froome) so they didn’t have to work so
hard.
At last: the pentultimate
excitement of the peleton streaming by, slightly uphill towards the Arc, circling,
then stretching out on the downhill back down the Champs-Élysées! A lap every 7-8 minutes, a total of 8 laps,
so a full hour of cheering, waiting, and cheering some more.
After the victory lap spectators were reluctant to just go
home. Jim and I realized we were famished (watching the TdF is hard work) so we
wandered on down the Champs-Élysées and squeezed onto a small restaurant patio
on a side street. Jim ordered something
he couldn’t pronounce, but you know it’s got to be good if pickles are
included.
One last photo as we worked our way to the Metro: standing
in the middle of the Champs-Élysées.
“Cycling is like a church - many attend, but few understand.”
~Jim Burlant
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