Experiencing the Tour de Lance, er, France

  It’s almost time for that famous bicycle race to begin again here in France. The Tour de France is celebrating its 100th anniversary this year, starting July 5th and ending in Paris on July 27th. I used to casually watch it in the States and knew very little about it. Not until Lance Armstrong, a fellow Austinite, won his first Tour de France after having recovered from cancer, did I really start to pay attention. After moving to Paris with my husband, I got to see every minute of every day of the race that’s televised in France. Besides the thrill of watching gruelling climbs up mountains, sometimes through snow, bikers going off the side of a hill, and horrible spills on pavements with broken bones, there is a travelogue-like view of all of the fabulous scenery that the tour goes through. Castles, fields of flowers, deep turquoise lakes, cows placidly eating grass–you see it all, and see how varied and beautiful France is. Watching the tour on television, I started to learn a little about the history and tradition of this famous race. I learned that, besides a yellow jersey–which is handed out every day to the leader with the fastest time—there’s a green jersey for general riding, a white jersey for the best rider under 25, and a red-and-white, polka-dotted jersey for the best climbing time. There’s a ride with teams of nine riders, who all work to make sure their main guy wins by doing the flying-geese thing–the one in front makes it easier for those behind them. There will be 10 flat stages and 7 mountain stages this year, with 2 individual time-trial stages and 1 time-trial for the whole team. The race will cover 3,350 kilometers before it finishes, with the winner nabbing 400,000 Euros. I was in Paris the year that Lance Armstrong won his third Tour de France. (He’s gone on to win 4 so far.) My husband and I rode our own bikes from our apartment to the Champs-Elysees. The broad avenue was packed with people waiting for the riders to enter Paris, and we watched their progress on a huge screen that had been erected over the avenue. Souvenir kiosks everywhere sold commemorative T-shirts, hats and posters. Cars and floats paraded in front of the crowds, advertising drinks and banks, and throwing out goodies. By the afternoon, the temperature had soared well into the 90’s, and we stayed in the shade under a tree while we waited. Finally, the riders entered the city. We went with the other spectators–many of them wearing T-shirts with either American or Texas flags on them–to line the street, but found it hard to see anything with the crowd being 10-people deep. The excitement built, and I could hear cheering down where the riders were coming into view. A helicopter filming their progress zoomed overhead then suddenly they rushed by. I had no idea they traveled at such speed. I had hoped to get a glimpse of Lance Armstrong, but at their speed I couldn’t even spot the yellow jersey worn by the leader. I thought that was it, but my husband informed me that they circled through Paris and would be by 6 more times before crossing the finish line. We never did find where the that line was and decided to start for home after they’d ridden by a few more times. Going back along Rue de Rivoli, we found the crowds much sparser, and I was able to lean out and see the bikers approaching. I could see a yellow jersey and took a photo. It could have been Lance but it could have been another rider wearing yellow. Still, it was exciting. Some people like to go into the countryside to watch the tour. On television, you can see people parked on the side of the road, waiting for the bikers to pass, but it’s only one time in this part of the race and I don’t know if I would go to the time and trouble to do this. There are always interesting or amusing people to watch, including a few streakers, usually with a flag around their shoulders, or a line of naked guys painted in the colors of their country, covering themselves strategically with their hands. Every year, a man dressed as Satan with horns, a red cape and a pitchfork runs madly along with the bikers when they enter his territory. He’s there every single day, too. Sometimes, especially as the riders get near the finish line, the spectators get really numerous, and I worry that they will cause a rider to fall. It hasn’t happened yet and I hope it never does. I plan to be on the Champs-Elysees again this year to see if Lance Armstrong will be the first to cross the finish line. Like the parade on Bastille Day or the Fete de la Musique, it has become a Paris tradition for me. I can be there to witness a part of history and share in the excitement. Go Lance! For more information on the Tour De France, visit the official website: www.letour.fr/ Linda Mathieu, formerly from Austin, Texas, is a professional journalist and photographer. Owner of Paris Photo Tours, she delights in taking tourists around Paris, showing them her favorite views and photo ops. She is currently at work on a book of her photography with a light-hearted look at Paris.