Los Diablos
So I suppose I had better put up some pictures of our big day watching the Tour de France on the Col du Tourmalet…
We had been planning this day for quite a while. It was decided that a mountain stage would provide the best viewing experience, and the first day in the Pyrenees (Bastille day) would fit into our schedule between London and the expiry date of our Belgium visas. Although the stage finish at Luz-Ardiden ski station would provide a better view of the oncoming cyclists, the notoriety of Col du Tourmalet could not be overlooked.
We originally planned to free-camp up on the mountain nearby to where we would watch the stage. But we found an abundance of nice campsites along the route. Because we had some spare time before stage 12, we did some recon and rode up Col d’Aspin, Col du Tourmalet, and Luz-Ardiden over 2 days. We did Aspin because we mistakenly thought that this was part of the route when it was actually La Hourquette d’Ancizan, a slightly steeper climb.
Two days before the stage we arrived in Sainte-Marie de Campan, the town at the beginning of Col du Tourmalet. The camp site “Les Rives de l’Adour” was really nice and the manager was a really friendly old man although the extent of our conversation was “bonjour.” On our free day we wanted to do some washing and then go for a ride up one of the nearby mountains. But it wasn’t to be… after a thunder storm that lasted most of the night it rained solid pretty much all day. We were confined to our tent. A Belgian couple– keen cyclists– who were camping next to us, drove to town and brought us back some bread for breakfast. In the afternoon we picked some gaps in the rain, rode to town and sat in the cafe for a while.
On the day of the stage, thankfully the weather was dry, although cool and cloudy. Actually our main concern was the clouds because we knew from last time that you can’t see very much above the cloud line. It was very exciting. We ate our breakfast then filled a pannier with snacks and warm clothes then started cycling up the col. Of course lots of people had the same idea… it was pretty fun because the road was mostly closed to motor traffic.
Riding up Tourmalet to find a good viewing possie
Along the way, people were setting up tables for lunch, having barbeques and picnics, playing cards, putting on their costumes, etc. The atmosphere was festive.
Kiwis
It took as about two hours to get to the ski town of La Mongie, about 4km from the summit. At this point there were people and campervans everywhere… chaos… and the crowd was walking all over the road. So we decided to turn around and pick a decent waiting spot.
Then we waited for about 3 hours. The police closed the road to all non-official traffic at 1:45, so any spectators on bicycles had to stop where they were. The estimated arrival time of the caravan was 2:45, then the cyclists would come past an hour later. We sat and ate all of our food. There wasn’t much else to do, and it was a little cold up there. Some Spanish cyclists came past sweating and were stopped by the policeman because he had closed the road. The only clothes they had for warmth was their sweaty cycling gear, arm warmers, and rain jackets, and they waited like that for 2 hours.
Vicki in beanie
We saw the caravan coming at the bottom of the valley, then 15 minutes later it reached us. It’s a big silly circus of course but we got some free stuff:
- a few caravan newspapers sponsored by Evian “Le Eau-fficiel” (good for sitting on)
- 2 Carrefour capellinos
- some laundry detergent
- some kind of fruit cordial concentrate (which would later leak in our bags)
- 2 inflatable bats
- a small bag of Haribo
- a little bag of mini smoked pork sausages
- a sachet of Nesquick
- a little pack of “madeline” cakes
So something for everyone really. Then we waited some more, watched various official cars drive past, tried to make sense of the silly caravan newspaper.
Bottom of the valley
Finally the cyclists came. First indication of that was the helicopter coming around the corner into our valley. Then we could see the leading vehicles down the very bottom, the cars were visible, the yellow motorbike was slightly visible. Then we only just made out a few breakaway groups of one or two riders. Then the first big group was sort of visible as a distant blurry mass of lycra.
15 or so minutes later the breakaways reached our pozzie. They were going about 20km/h I think which is fairly fast on that slope, especially considering they had already come 180km and climbed the first pass. Of course we couldn’t identify who the riders were but later we would know the first pair of cyclists were an Englishman and a Frenchman Roy. The next little group included Sammy Sanchez who would win the stage. Then the first big group came by, Vicki caught a glimpse of Cadel Evans, I just saw a bunch of sweaty spitting cycling machines. Minutes later there were two more big groups, composed of the sprinters, etc, those who had no interest in busting their arses too much, more like just surviving the mountains. All the riders looked calm and professional. It was cool to be so close to them.
After all the cyclists and cars went past we waited a bit, walked our bikes down the hill until we were out of view of the policeman, then got on and rolled down. At the next bend a police woman was blowing her whistle and signalling everyone to stop, so we stopped. Then a Katusha straggler came past with the team car, whoops. After that was a motorcyclist with a “termine” sign or something like that so we once again got on our bikes and coasted down in the stream of cyclists. Thankfully, the road was still closed to motor vehicles.
Pont Napoleon
We got back to camping and went straight to the little TV where we could see the leaders just crossing Napoleon bridge, the beginning of the final climb to Luz-Ardiden ski station. We noticed that they had increased the pace, sort of interesting to watch because we found this hill quite steep in places. In the end the Anglo-French breakaway was caught by group Sanchez who outclassed them all at the finish.
Long line of cars
By this time the roads had been opened again and all the campers and cars were coming down from the mountain in a long line of traffic which didn’t clear for some hours. We had to overtake them on our bikes to buy some bread in town for tea.
All in all, a good day, a good experience. Of course, in front of the telly is the best place to watch the tour and know what’s going on. But having seen the pros in the flesh, and the circus which surrounds them, makes the whole thing more real.