That said, suck on your jealousy, chumps.
We slept today until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I woke very excited for the opportunity to see the best cyclists in the world as they rode the most famous street in France to conclude the most famous cycling race in the world. No big deal.
I discovered our local bakery closed, either because it was Sunday or because of the Tour, so I had to wander side streets for a while before discovering a small café with some croissants for sale. There were no markets open either, so we had to pack what meager rations we had on hand: four croissants, a sleeve of toasted crackers, 24 ounces of water, and a liter of ginger ale.
We arrived on the Champs just before noon, and both sides of the street were nearly already lined with people. We had to walk maybe three blocks before acquiring a spot along the barricade, but it was a great one. We had a mostly unobstructed view down the street, and we were maybe 75 meters from the “Sprint Finish”--this is not THE finish line, but rather an intermediary line where sprint points are awarded to riders.
Above: Annie intimidating all other spectators.
Once we’d staked our claim, we just had to wait. And wait. And…wait. This is the point where I'll note that from our arrival to that of the cyclists, we waited nearly five hours. We were parked in our spot by noon, and there was NOTHING to see until maybe 2:45 when the Caravan rolled into town.
Above: Goliath's brother, Jebediah the beetle-rider.
The Caravan was comprised of the various race sponsors: athletic, retail, utility, food, drink, phone, and candy companies made their way up the Champs in a sort of high-speed parade.
Above: NOT part of the high-speed paraders.
Decorated vehicles zoomed, horns and sirens blared, music blasted, and harnessed-on employees waved and danced. It was a spectacle.
I think the “best dressed” vehicles, to me, were the ones I dubbed the Bread Mobile and Wheat Wagon, owned by some bakery or bread company. Good work, kids; you won the Swans Seal of Approval.
Above: The Wheat Wagon in all its "grain"y glory.
The Caravan’s arrival soon became anticlimactic, because the riders didn’t reach town for another two hours. This whole time, I should add, was not spent in silence: we had a speaker just above us piping play-by-play action from the race…in loud French. We had no way of knowing when/if the race had started, where they were, or what time they were set to reach us.
Nevertheless, we finally sensed the riders approach just before 5pm, and man, were they FLYING. There was a small pack of lead riders, quickly followed by the peloton, and then they were gone. Maybe a minute later, they reappeared on the opposite side of the street, having rounded the Arc de Triomphe on their return down around the Louvre. They would repeat this circuit six more times, I believe, before the finish.
Check out Annie's video footage below:
Above: Cadel Evans in yellow jersey.
To the naked eye, however, we had little chance of identifying any individuals except for the yellow jersey (race leader), green jersey (sprint leader), or red polka dot jersey (king of mountains). I never saw the white jersey (best young rider) because it blended with the team jerseys.
Above: Mark Cavendish in green jersey.
The team cars followed the peloton in close formation, their vehicles topped with backup bikes and wheels. The whole thing was amazing to behold. It happened incredibly fast! We couldn’t help feeling sorry for people who camped at an earlier stage, only able to see the riders pass by once, because it was over before you could blink.
Above: Team Leopard Trek support vehicle.
Australian Cadel Evans maintained his yellow jersey, thus winning the Tour. The day’s stage race was won by Mark Cavendish in the green jersey. We saw plenty of Luxembourg fans cheering for the Schleck brothers (Andy and Frank) of team Leopard Trek, but the brothers had to settle for bridesmaids--they finished second and third overall.
Once we realized the race had ended, we tried making our way down the Champs to the finish line and podium. We got as close as we could, which was still maybe seventy yards from the podium, though we could see the medal presentation on a big screen. For anyone curious, the podium was closer to the Place de la Concorde than the Arc de Triomphe; the Arc is just THAT big that it looks nearer on TV than it really is.
Above: Podium beneath 5th & 6th flags from left.
After making our way back into our neighborhood, we sought fruitlessly for an open restaurant, eventually finding a corner café serving food. We ordered bland “feature dishes”: chicken wok for Annie, and baked chicken & fries for me. We split a carafe of Sauvignon, and watched as the occasional pack of Tour cyclists (surely unknown domestiques?) made their way out of town through the streets of Paris. We were tired just from standing around watching them all day, so we couldn’t believe they still had the energy to cycle through town. Amazing.
Paris July 24 Album:
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| Tour de France: July 24, 2011 |
Location:Paris, France
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