On Tour

That national culutural sporting event that binds us all, the world’s most iconic cycling race, The Tour De France, pedalled off yesterday. Nearly three weeks of men on dope on bikes, cycling round France to win one, of a plethora of coloured jerseys. Oh, I am far to cynical and dismissive about the Tour De France. Personally I love it – the Tour De France, a sure sign that summer is here and the holidays are not far away.

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There are those who watch the daily TV Tour for the cycling, and those like mewho are glued to the tube on a hot afternoon taking in the landscapes – as the cyclists cross those places where no one would ever go, unless they were there. A few photos.

Welcome to the Tour de France. Even in the smallest village, when the Tour de France whizzes through it is a cause for celebration (and months of planning) This is the village of Massay where the tour pedaled through in 2013, so proud were the locals that they have left this announce for posterity (or they have neglected to remove it).`

Still in Massay. Locals paint up the houses for the Tour de France.

Here we are on the Tour De France 2015 as it crosses the small town of Chateauneuf sur Cher – a “large” village of 3000 souls whos population more than tripled, the day the Tour De France came to town. We went down hours before to get a decent veiwing place – on the roadside, following the Tour from town-to-town, three Belgian cycling fans, Nadine, Jacky and Stan. The love of cycling fans knows no bounds, French, Dutch, Belgian, they will spend three weeks trailing to tour, living in their camper vans; some even camping for days on the roasside at strategic spots. Underneath, a couple more Tour fans

Before Tour hits town, there comes the “caravan” – a cortege of cars, vans and trucks decked out in the colours of the Tour’s various sponsors – on the truck, or a the beck of the van, attractive young ladies smile sweetly and throw freebies into the crowd –