Once rested and refreshed, Vernon, Nathan and I set off by foot, pushing our bikes through the Parc
du Champ de Mars and underneath the Tour Eiffel, which was packed with crowds trying to go up the
tower itself. At the other side of the tower we mounted our bikes once more and set off for the
Champs Elysées. We could see there were still cyclists just completing the Randonnée, coming in
over the Seine via the Pont d'Lena, as we had done earlier. We followed the general flow heading up
the hill to the Champs Elysées. When we got to the L'Arc de Triomphe already the place was heaving
with bodies and the Real Cyclists weren't due into Paris for some time yet. Finding a place near the
turn on the Champs Elysées by the L'Arc de Triomphe that was near the front of the barriers lining
the route, we settled in to wait with the rest of the crowds. We were a tiny speck in the estimated
million spectators lining the Champs Elysées that day. There were many more throughout the rest of
Paris too.
We waited five hours for the cyclists to arrive, as it turned out. During that five hours the crowds
grew deeper. We were joined, in our little bit, by a friendly French family, an English couple who
came to France every year in their motorhome to watch the Tour, a family who were part living in
England and part living in America (Chicago) and then by an American couple from Texas, who had come
to see Lance Armstrong. The Texan lady, Cindy, was very American indeed, dressed in her denims with
a t-shirt covered in rhinestones depicting the stars and stripes and she was wearing a necksquare,
also of the stars and stripes. In her ears she wore rhinestone earrings of red, white and blue in
the shape of the Texan lone star. She and her husband were absolute sweeties, joining in the fun of
the day, chatting with all around. She was like a slim, petite Dolly Parton in terms of her
personality. The other Americans from Chicago were a bit more visually subdued than Cindy, but just
as nice. They weren't, however, cyclists. One lady said to me, "My sister here, she's wonderin' why
your saddle on your bike has a hole in it." Let me explain the background here. The saddle on my
bike is a Terry's Liberator TiLite, complete with strategically placed hole to provide comfort and
ease any pressure on those delicate parts of the female anatomy which are placed upon it when riding
a bike. So I looked at the lady and, keeping a perfectly straight face, I answered her. "It's for
wind. It's a turbo boost effect." I replied. Cue hoots of laughter from adjacent Americans but with
Nathan saying, "That's it, Mum's at it again. She's nothing to do with me! Really, she isn't." Cindy
from Texas laughed out loud and said, "Y'all know now how Lance has won the Tour so many times! Wind
power!" Cue more hoots of laughter from American crowd. Cue more groans from my teenage offspring…
The crowd was good-natured, and the time passed happily even though it was raining. Then clouds
broke, the sun came out and the tour cavalcade duly arrived not long after. There were floats of the
different sponsors of the Tour, the various team cars with lots of spare bikes on the top of each.
What I wanted to know was why I couldn't have one of those going spare. Not fair! At this point, the
nature of the crowd started to change. A few latecomers tried to barge in near us. It got quite
heated, at one point, when a woman, then a man tried to barge their way through the crowd next to
us, all of whom had been good-naturedly waiting for hours in a very confined space. Words were
exchanged nearby which were obviously not polite French words. I could see an international incident
brewing. Luckily the people trying to barge in took the obvious hint. They tried further down the
line and we saw gendarmes being called. It wasn't pleasant. Then the cyclists came by. Whoosh! They
were gone in a blur of rainbow colours and the whirr of pedals at high cadence. Whoosh! They went by
on the other side of the road in the same kaleidoscopic blur and whirring of pedals. Blimey, they
went up the cobbles a fair bit faster than I did! It was a bit like being at the Cup Final, I
suppose, in that you didn't see much but the atmosphere was electric. I did manage to get a few
photographs of bits of blur as they whizzed by. Then I noticed a guy using Nathan's wheel rims as a
platform from which to edge himself up for a better view. I politely asked him to remove himself
from my son's wheels. He didn't budge and pretended not to hear me. So I asked him again,
"Excusez-moi, Monsieur…" He gave me a filthy look. So I risked an international incident at this
point, and got a hold of his arm, looked him squarely in the eye, said, "Non, Monsieur, non s'il
vous plaît. Merci beaucoup." and pulled him firmly off the wheel rim of Nathan's bike and then
smiled at him. At this point, he looked a bit surprised at a large middle-aged Englishwoman getting
stroppy with him. I was somewhat annoyed at his utter lack of respect for someone else's property. I
thought to myself, "Look here, Sonny Jim, how would you like it if I stood on you!" He didn't stand
on Nathan's wheel rims again.
In a while, the squashing was getting all too much, so Vernon, Nathan & I decided to wander down the
Champs Elysées towards the finish line of the main event. This was enjoyable and I loved people
watching. Down towards where the shops on the Champs Elysées ended, I woman came up to me.
"Excusez-moi, Madame…" It turned out she was a journalist from a local newspaper writing about the
Tour. She spoke much better English than I spoke French, so we chatted for a while. I told her that
the Randonnée had been a magnificent event and that Paris was a joy to cycle in. She told me she
cycled in Paris but found it to be a scary experience. I told her the drivers in Paris were much
more considerate than the drivers back home in England. She then said to me that I was the third
person she'd interviewed in the hour, who was not French who had said that the Parisian drivers were
courteous to cyclists and prior to that day she never thought she'd hear Parisian drivers being
described as courteous. At this point, Vernon and Nathan, who had been in front of me, wandered back
towards me and saw me chatting with the journalist. I could hear Nathan say, "Dad, she's managed to
do it again!"
We slowly wandered around the finish area, watching a bit more of the cyclists racing on the giant
TV screens placed nearby and meandered over to where some team back-up vehicles were parked - the
CSC team coach and some Bianchi vehicles. By now we were getting a bit tired, having been up so
early, cycled round Paris, stood for over five hours on the Champs Elysées, fended off
international diplomatic incidents and given interviews to the press. So we mounted our bikes once
more and headed back out to our hotel in Neuilly. In our room we turned on the TV and had a great
view of the Tour celebratory parade up and down the Champs Elysées. Certainly it was a better view
of it than we would have had actually down there! So we all put our feet up, Nathan sipped on fresh
orange juice and Vernon and I sipped on some good red wine. We relaxed and chatted about our
experiences of the day. We all agreed that the Randonnée itself was a truly marvellous experience,
over all too soon. If we ever get the chance to do another Tour Randonnée again we will. Perhaps
there'll be one in the centenary Tour, as opposed to the centenary year of the Tour, as there was a
break for a couple of major wars in Europe back in the twentieth century. Watching the final stage
of the Tour itself on the Champs Elysées was a mixed experience for us. Both Vernon and Nathan said
they wished they could have had a better view and were a bit disappointed they didn't. I have to
say, on that score I didn't expect to see a lot, as I knew how big the crowds would be. For me, it
was an atmospheric experience more than a great visual, able to see it all, experience. I was
distinctly uncomfortable by the occasional bad sort in the crowd, and the man standing on the wheel
rims of Nathan's bike annoyed me. Overall, though, the experience was tremendous and I am very glad
I had the opportunity to take part in everything on the day. I wouldn't have missed it for anything.
To be continued…
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This is sent from a redundant email Mail sent to it is dumped My correct one can be gleaned from
h*$el***$$n*$d$ot$**s**i$$m*$m$**on**$s$@*$$a**$*ol*$*.*$$c$om*$ by getting rid of the
overdependence on money and fame
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