The Caravan
Bradley Wiggins
Mark Cavendish
After our West Coast tour we went to stay with Graham and Gill Holder in their house not far from Rouen. On Wednesday we all rode up the Voie Verte to Dieppe to watch the Tour come though. We've done it a few times in various places; it's always a great spectacle, and it's very enjoyable to be part of a great French celebration, but you really get very little idea of what's going on - you need a television for that.
Anyway, we all had a grand ride on a very sunny day to Dieppe en fête - everything set out in the sunshine for the great day, the streets lined with expectant people. Nothing for a while, then the craziness of the Caravan, where sponsors throw out promotional gifts from elaborately dressed up vehicles. There were hundreds of them, and the enthusiasm for the souvenirs is huge. I got a yellow hat, at some risk to life and limb, Maggie got some washing powder and Gill, more usefully, got a packet of biscuits.
Then there's a long pause before the Tour itself comes. Police bikes sweep along the road, the Commissaires cars bustle self-importantly along, then there's the thwup thwup thwup of the TV helicopters - five of them - then the breakaway, and then swoosh, the peloton whisks by and it's over.
Pleasant people in the Le Flash bar made us sandwiches, as it was now after lunch, then back off home down the Voie Vert, joshing with other cyclists and enjoying a sunny afternoon.
Mark
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