Le Tour Part 2 - Col du Galibier

As I neared the base of Col du Galibier, the traffic got heavier and heavier, until eventually I came to a standstill. Up ahead, at midday the day before the big stage, the road was already closed. A quick chat with the gendarme on duty (I’d been looking up lots of useful words to do with parking/driving etc), I got through for another few kms before stopping at a big makeshift campground. This experience would set the scene for my Pyrenees stages – get there at least two nights before.

I drove into the paddock, and whilst it wasn’t packed by Glastonbury standards, there were still plenty of people. I met a bunch of likely local lads, so that I could practice my French a bit more. They introduced me Ricard! (for some reason it’s always pronounced with the exclamation mark) – a bit like Sambucca from Marseille, plus a few other delicacies.

As dusk fell, the white “camping cars” perched precariously wherever there was a slight edge on the side of the road stood out. These things were everywhere - France’s preferred holiday option it seems.

The next morning I left my camping buddies because I wanted to go part way up the mountain. So I set off up the road, or sometimes straight up the mountain where that was possible, expecting to go a kilometre or two. In the end I went nearly the whole 10 km! It seemed like a pretty quick trip up, because I was stopping often to chat to the all sorts of people that this race attracts. There were elderly couples in their van, people in tents, people riding their bikes up, lots of aussies and a group of Belgians who reminded me of that classic Tour moment you see on the highlights sometimes. They’d set up by the side of the road with a big TV under an awning (so they could see in the sun) with a satellite dish so they could watch the progress of the race (on the “classic moments” a similar group are sitting with their back to the road watching the race on TV as the cyclists go past behind them). Unfortunately, their satellite dish had just fallen down the mountain, so they’d retrieved it and were trying to retune as I went by. At least I was able to get some information on what was happening. There were also whole teams of people like this T Mobile group…They’d obviously got themselves sorted!

There was also the junior T Mobile contingent, giving much encouragement to all the cyclists on the way up!

And I got to see the Devil!

For those that don’t know, the Devil has been popping up by the side of the road on the tour (and I believe other events as well) for many years. He used to have a custom bike, but it looks like he travels in a bit more style these days….

As I got closer to the top, the police presence became more obvious. During the race, they were stationed about every 100 m near the top, and got pretty pushy.

As I trudged on up the mountain, time was starting to become an issue – I needed to be well set up and in position before the caravan arrived. So I had just decided that I wasn’t going to make it all the way to the top and I should look for a likely spot when I spied this!

And who should I meet when I got the what I later learnt was the famous bright pink combie? Not only did two of these guys live not 10 km from where my parents live in Tasmania, but Mick Prior (pictured) played cricket in Scotsdale with my cousins Michael and David! Le monde est petite (it’s a small world). Mick, Grant and team had been travelling round Europe for quite a while, and were doing pretty much what I was – heading to the big mountain stages with a few others thrown in for good measure. All cyclists themselves of varying degrees of dedication. They’d been there a couple of nights, and got the road writer (yep, a lot of that writing you see on the road for the Tour is done by entrepreneurs, apparently Mick’s man did the job for a few beers) to print out all the aussie’s names (before they knew of Stuey O’Grady’s demise. We had an awesome view down the mountain…

I had a few photos taken of me from different angles throughout the tour, and you’ll see a pretty common theme – big grin and my aussie t-shirt!

Next it was time to settle in and wait for the publicity caravan. These guys drive along the whole stage of every stage, always about 2 hours ahead of the cyclists, handing out goodies and generally encouraging a party atmosphere. So the pink combie guys and me ranged ourselves out on either side of the road for best coverage and proceeded to pull in quite a haul! But there’s one thing for sure – next time I go I’m definitely going to try and get one of those Tour horns “tootalootalootaloot!!!”

Ok, enough fun – time for the race!!! An adjacent camping car also had a TV going, so there was a big group of people gathered outside the window trying to get a glimpse of what was going on. And here, thanks to years of watching the French TV coverage, I was able to get some info from the people in front of me. Phrases like “tete de la course”, “poursuivante” and “peleton” came in very handy. Plus on this voyage I picked up all the number words – when you’re trying to find out what’s going on in a bike race you realise how important the number of minutes (ie ahead or behind) and kilometres (ditto) are!

No pictures of the leaders. I made a conscious decision to put the camera away and concentrate on just watching. This unfortunately means that I have no pictures of the lad who eventually won the day, because if I had I might also have had a picture of the man in the car directly behind him.

It was on this, my first stage, that I learn the real importance of all the helicopters. They give the people waiting on the mountain a great idea of exactly where the cyclists are! This time there were masses of helicopters, looking like bees stirred up down in the valley. More than any other stage I saw because besides taping the race a few were probably concerned with Nicolas Sarkozy, the French president, riding in the voiture officielle right behind the leader. Not that I noticed then of course, too busy watching the race. I only knew when I later picked up an Italian paper someone had left behind on the beach (I knew it was Italian because there were only about 4 pages dedicated to the Tour and not the front pages, very different to any French journal during those weeks!)

Another quick note on the helicopters – we watched the leader go by, then two Discovery members (was that Levi? Don’t think so, it was Popovich and Contador. Where’s Levi?) then Cadel (GO CADEL!!!!). His first and only attack was going a treat at the time, but the bloody helicopter got so close to him above us that it stirred up a lot of dust and dirt right in his face. He kept that look of steadfast determination on his face though.

After the other main GC contenders went past, it was time to sit back and wait for the gruppetto, so I got the camera out for this one. And glad that I did. One of the caravan vehicles was handing out little Tour newspapers. The lads near us were obviously clued up to the situation and had gathered them to get ready to give the cyclists. These guys had worked harder than you can imagine to come up that long, long mountain, but it was really cold on top and they had a long, fast, cold descent ahead just over the top. So here you can see them taking the papers the kids handed out and stuffing them down their tops to keep warm.

After the last vehicle had gone past (and I’m sure there were more cars/motos than bikes!), I said goodbye to my comrades and headed on down the hill. And it was a much longer trip down than up! I was pretty tired by the time I got back to my little car (I tried to thumb a lift from the gendarmerie on the way down, but nothing doing) – it had been a huge day.

I drove up the now open, but far from clear road on the way to Briançon, which had been the village arrivée for the stage. Another lesson – don’t even begin to think you’re getting anywhere quickly when you have to wait for the Tour to get out first. I saw the long, long line of cars and camping cars waiting to get into town and decided to go about 150 km around the other way – a good decision I’m sure!

That was the last alpine stage, so that night I pulled over into a nice little aire and the next day headed off to the coast. Those Alpes took some time getting out of though, by the end I could take on those roads as well as any of the locals. Another thing I found was that I was quite glad to leave the mountains in the end because the scenery was starting to be a bit overwhelming. There are only so many times you can drive round a bend only to be hit in the face with an awe inspiring vista of lakes and cliffs and valleys and more incredible *scenery*!