Paris, Part Four - the Tour de France - Fini!

The Tour de France is so much more than is depicted on television, especially on U.S. TV.  The media focus is on the sport, on the athletes, and on who wins and loses.  But being at the event itself...well...the sport is almost only half of it.  It is very much an international celebration, and a celebration of the bicycling culture of Europe more than anything else.

I won't go in depth about the European bicycling culture here, as my dear John is doing that on his own blog.  However, it's very different here than in the U.S.  Bicycling in Europe is an everyday, utilitarian activity, often on "city-style" bikes that have seen better days.  If you want to go to the grocery store or to a local restaurant, you hop on a bicycle in your street clothes (no helmet!) and go.

In the U.S. you ride a bicycle either because you are in it for your health/sport, or because you have lost your driver's license--there is rarely any in-between.  You either wear bicycling jerseys and streamlined helmet and look like you're a "serious" bicyclist, or you wear something that hopefully doesn't hint that you hide Mad Dog 20/20 under your mattress.  You almost never see a grandmother in her 70's ride a bicycle in the U.S.  In Europe, it's common. In the U.S., riding a bicycle has an air of Puritan virtue to it--you are being "healthy" or "going green" if you ride a bicycle.  In Europe, it's just a way for you to go places or have a fun time with family.  You don't even have to work on your own bike, and you're not looked down on if you don't--there are plenty of bike shops to do that for you.  In other words, there is no social stigma or virtue attached to it; no value judgements.  I think that's one big reason why Europeans ride bicycles more than Americans do. 


An example: you would probably never see, in the U.S., a bicyclist riding "no hands" with utter precision, while lighting up a cigarette.  I have seen this more than a few times in the Netherlands.

I expected that John, in his eagerness, would wake me up at an ungodly hour (which, for me, is before 7:30 am) to scope out all that we might see of the Tour and the surrounding celebrations.  We had a hint of that when we went to Andenne, Belgium to see that particular stage of the race.  But, thanks to my luck in finding and reserving a table at the Bistro Romain, he believed it good enough that we arrive at the Champs Élysées by 10 am, which was fine with me.  Surely, we'd be among the first to be there.

As a result, I was up by 8:00 am, and we went down to a leisurely breakfast in the hotel's cellar cafe. I have grown fond of the French breakfast we have had there:  a choice of Müesli (granola, but not sweet) with milk, a few slices of cold cuts, a boiled egg, a croissant or roll, and some café au lait.  It's easier on my stomach than any other kind and lasts a good long while.  I wouldn't normally have thought of eating cold cuts for breakfast, but hey, why not?

Again, we walked through the Parc Monceau, not because it was the shortest way (as I found out), but because we had time, it was once again a beautiful day, and there was plenty of time to enjoy the way there as well as the event itself.  We sat on one of the benches for a while, and I had to take a picture of this cheeky little fellow, who clearly expected me to throw him some food.  Alas, I did not have any, and he soon fluttered away in no doubt avian disgust.

By the way, I forgot to mention that one of my favorite painters, Claude Monet, painted a few pictures of this park.  Here is one of them:

If I'm not mistaken, we went past those buildings you see in the background on our way out to Avenue Hoche (I could be very mistaken, as the buildings are painted in the Impressionist style, so the details aren't clear).  I do know that the buildings we went by were quite old, and had some interesting sculptures at the top and sides.  I took a few pictures of those, as well. 

It turned out we were not among the first to arrive at the Champs Élysées.  People were already staking out their spots, and though there were still spots to stake out, it was clear the true fan would be there before 10 am and find the best spot to see the competitors up close.  We had our spot at the Bistro Romain, however, so it didn't matter to us.  We decided to walk up and down the avenue, John with an eye toward getting some Tour de France souvenirs and I just to people-watch and window shop.

Though it was only mid-morning with hours to go before the final stage of the Tour was to begin, there was nevertheless a festival atmosphere.  Even an Egyptian Pharaoh made his silent presence known.  As you can see, it was quite sunny and warm, and I couldn't help thinking whoever it was underneath that mask and gold lamé had to be sweltering.  I put a couple of Euro coins into the cup next to him/her so that he/she could get a bottle of water, and the Pharaoh gave me a grave (ahem) bow before resuming his/her place on the bench.

There is no lack of refreshment along the Champs Élysées, and you can take your pick, from the street vendors selling ice cream or cotton candy, to a fine haute cuisine restaurant, to McDonalds (yes, I know, to some it may be a travesty to eat there if you are in Paris, but I would not be surprised if there was something distinctly French offered in that restaurant, as that chain seems to tailor its offerings to the tastes of whatever country it's in).


Here are some U.S. fans across the street from where we were, and next to them are Australian and New Zealand fans.  However, I want to emphasize that it's not just bicycling fans that attend.  Whole families from all the European countries--all over the world, in fact--come here to cheer on the competitors from their homeland, and many of them waved their flags or even wore their flags as a sort of cape around their shoulders.

I managed to catch this Spanish family at a candid moment, and when they saw that I had taken their picture, they laughed and nodded at me when I pointed to their patriotic t-shirts and said "España."  No doubt they were here to cheer their guy, Alberto Contador (with the Astana team), who won the Tour last year.

In addition, John and I met a family from the Dallas, Texas area.  The father of the family had actually visited the bicycle shop that Lance Armstrong had frequented when he first started his bicycling career, and his young pre-teen daughter excitedly told us how she had a chance to sit in the Radio Shack van, where she was given some team souvenirs and autographs. 

Of course, we saw many dedicated fans wearing team shirts; the teams are known by their main sponsors--Radio Shack (Lance Armstrong's), Vittel, Skoda, Rabobank (I keep thinking of this as "rob a bank"), Astana, Cofidis, Liquigas (pronounced "leaky-gas"--yes, this tickled my funny bone),  and Quick-Step, among others.  However, regardless of their nationality, many have favorites not of their own country.  This young man is obviously a fan of Lance Armstrong, and not only wore the team shirt, but made up a poster saluting his hero's last Tour race.

We did wander down a bit to the finish line where the victors would be honored.  Below is the podium upon which the top winners would be given their prizes.

Our grumbling stomachs and a glance at my watch told me it was time to get to the Bistro Romain, however, and so we maneuvered ourselves through the thickening crowds to the restaurant.  There, we were greeted by David the head waiter again, and he brought us to our table and to our waitress, a lovely dark-haired, dark-eyed young woman who asked us what items we wanted from the predetermined menu (there is a fixed menu--it's not a la carte--but we do get our choices).  We were delighted once again that we had decided to choose this venue from which to see the Tour finish, as we had a clear view of the avenue, above the heads of the crowds.  We were given champagne as an aperitif, and I could feel myself settling down in my chair and relaxing, ready to watch the event and enjoy the meal.  As you can see from the photo, John is enjoying his champagne.  We toasted each other our wedding anniversary (in a few days) and my birthday (two days ago).

Oh, then came the meal.  Both John and I paused before each dish, enjoying the presentation before we dug in.  Well, we didn't really "dig in"; that would have done an injustice to the food.  You really have to taste a bit, and let the flavor roll over the tongue, because...well, it's difficult to describe.  I admit I tend to rush through my meals at home, wanting to go on with the rest of my day (or evening).  But since I've come here to Europe, I've changed a bit.  The food is so good and just looks so pretty that, seriously, rushing through it is a terrible waste.  Here is the main dish, a fruit de mer with grilled vegetables (tomatoes, etc.) in a pesto sauce.  Yes, we had dry red wine with it, which was probably not right, but it was pretty good red wine (a Merlot).  I wasn't thinking!  I was too excited just being there and knowing that we were here at the Tour de France.  A Chardonnay would have been better with this dish.

I want to make special mention of our waitress, who was superb, both gracious and discreet, yet very efficient, with a sweet demeanor.   I wish I had written down her name, because I would like to give a shout-out to her excellent service, but alas, I did not.

We heard the crowd below begin to clap, and sure enough, as happened in Andenne, Belgium, the floats came through.   Some of them we saw in Andenne, and there were others that we hadn't seen, among them the Disney float. Disney.  Yes.  There is a Disneyland in Paris, and we are not going there.  :-D

The parade soon passed, and so did the time, as we enjoyed our meal.  I noticed, however, that after a while, John would glance at his watch from time to time, and I also noticed that some people in the crowd below also were looking at their watches.  I gave John a questioning look, and he said the final stage was late, that the racers were supposed to have entered Paris at 4:30 pm.  We found out later that the Radio Shack team delayed the race because they had decided to wear the Livestrong jerseys instead of the Radio Shack ones.  Not that Radio Shack minded, but it was not according to the Tour de France organizers' rules.  So, the team had to change back to their usual jerseys.

It gave us enough time, however, to adjust our cameras and focus on where we believed the cyclists would appear.  I had studied the manual to my new camera and discovered that I could take stop-action photos, which surely would work with speeding bicyclists.

Soon, we heard cheers again, and cries of "allez, allez!" from the crowd.  The racers had arrived in Paris!  I brought my camera up and had it ready, and we half rose from our chairs to look as the team cars sped through, signaling the arrival of the racers in short order.  Sure enough, the racers appeared in front of us.  I held down my camera button.  Snap, snap, snap! 

The speed of the bicyclists was such that it would almost have been as disappointingly fast as our experience of them in Andenne, Belgium, except that we'd have more than a few chances to see them, as they'd make multiple turns around the Champs Élysées.  Even with my fast action camera setting, the pictures were still a bit blurry, they were that quick.  I had my camera ready, watching for the team cars to come by on the other side of the avenue.  Looking over the crowd, I was once again glad that we had our seats above them with a clear view of the streets, because there was no way short little me would have been able to see over the heads of the now three-to-five thick crowd lining the avenue.


I tried to be prepared so that I could possibly catch a glimpse of the race leader--Alberto Contador, the guy in the yellow jersey.  I did manage to catch a couple of pictures of him.  Here's one. 

I also tried to catch a photo of Lance Armstrong, but that was difficult because of the speed of the racers, plus he wasn't wearing the yellow jersey, and therefore didn't stand out from the rest of the Radio Shack team.  I understand he was cursed by a series of accidents and injuries during this, his last, Tour de France, and thus fell behind his teammates as well as Contador.

However, I believe the picture to the right shows Armstrong, so far as I can tell.  He's the bicyclist in the red jersey and dark grey shorts that says "Radio Shack" on the side.  I believe this is he because of the yellow band around the arm of his jersey, however I could be wrong about this.

The race was finally won by Alberto Contador, but that was not the end of the Tour!  There was the ride of the champions with many photo opportunities. The ladies at the other table did a great job of calling down to their favorites, thereby attracting the racers' attention.  Of course, I took the opportunity to take photos of the ones who stopped beneath our window and waved.

Even the local gendarmes got into the act.  Take a look at these two pictures:

Wait...was that a Cervelo team member on a police motorcycle?

Yep.  It was.  And there is the policeman on a Cervelo bicycle chasing after him, much to the amusement of the crowd. Hey, who wouldn't want a chance to get a ride like that?

Of course, I had to take a photo of the Radio Shack team, defiantly wearing their Livestrong jerseys during the victory laps.  They were fined for doing so, but the Tour organization turned over the fine to the local cancer charity.  I doubt they could have done otherwise with the fine money, as it would have been rather...hmm...chintzy if they hadn't.

And then...the the Radio Shack team decided to stop right by our restaurant!  What a stroke of good luck, and thank goodness for zoom capabilities!  As a result, I got some good pictures of them and Lance.

As you can see, there is Paulinho and Klöden, and I believe the guy in the back with the sunglasses is Chris Horner of Oregon.  And then, below, are photos of Lance Armstrong himself, waiting while a fellow competitor takes a picture of him:

Cool huh?  Even though I'm not even close to the avid bicycle enthusiast that John is, I nevertheless did feel quite a thrill at being able to take some photos of the 7-time winner of the Tour de France.

 I understand that after the Tour, Lance went to get himself a well-deserved bottle of cold beer.

The bright sun began to come out from behind the clouds, and made it difficult to take more pictures, but I had taken quite a lot, and was satisfied.  John and I finished our dinner/supper, and found to our astonishment that it was already 8:00 pm!  We signaled to the waitress that we were ready for the bill, and when she brought it, we paid and went on our way.

I couldn't help grinning at John, and he back at me, as we walked back to our hotel room.  We both agreed that it couldn't have been better had we planned it, and I'm pretty sure he felt about as giddy with joy as I--if not more so--about the whole event.  I took a few more photos on the way back, specifically of the pedestrian signal lights that struck me as particularly French:

It made both of us stand, arms akimbo and tapping our feet, as we waited for the light to change.  :-D  John calls it the "stand like Superman while you wait" sign.

The events of the day filled my mind to the extent that everything else that happened afterward paled into insignificance.  I can tell you we returned to the hotel, we slept a sleep of the exhausted, and woke up the next day and had our usual hotel breakfast.  The young hotel clerk gave us much better directions to the Gare du Nord train station than we had been given when we first came, and so our travel back to the station was much less stressful.  We had about an hour before our train arrived, so John and I relaxed at a café and had some cappuccino.  I hardly remember the train ride back, but I do remember the general glow of satisfaction of a trip well taken and one that I will remember the rest of my life.