Le Tour 2010

Overview

It's an event that is followed around the world, crossing across some of the most scenic areas in all of Europe, through sun soaked fields of lavender, rolling farmland dotted with centuries old cathedrals, fortresses, fairyland chateauxs, canyons gorged by roaring rivers and the majestic snow capped peaks of the mighty Alps and Pyrenees.

It truly is a one of a kind production bringing together the best athletes in the world to the most gruelling race on the planet. Over 3,000 kilometers in 21 days, riders donned in skin tight spandex advertising the likes of  Garmin, RadioShack, Cervelo, the capital of Kazakhstan - Astana - and Rupert Murdoch's Sky television network. Fans from the world over come to experience the epic sprints, mountain top finishes, the tears of victory amd defeat and the epic tailgating in heights of the mountain passes This is the "Le Tour". The Tour de France.

Our journey would begin in Carcassone, a town south of Toulouse in the midi-Pyrenees, take us to Revel / St. Ferreol for Stage 13, then over to Ax-3 Domaines for a mountain top finish, on to Andorraa, then deep Haute Pyrenees for one of the most epic stages, including the (in)famous Col du Tourmalet.

Here we go....


Day 1

Our first day started in Carcasonne, which is an hour's drive from Toulouse, and as the Tour was still several hundred miles away, we had a day to survey the surrounding area. The mountains located just north of the city immediately drew my attention especially given that I had read there were beautiful canyons winding through the valleys. After grabbing a delicious French breakfast in the Domain d'Auriac's picturesque garden, I headed out on to the road straight towards tallest mountain, Pic de Nord, on the  northern horizon. With my mom accompanying me in our car, we passed through Carcossone and La Cite, one of the more famous landmark's near Toulouse, onwards past field after field of sunflowers (all of which face one direction - never realized that) and driving towards the deep ravenines below Pic de Nord.

As we started to climb and the hills began to narrow, the scenery began to morph into a mesmerising, narrow cut valley with small villages perched on the mountainside bathed in a colorful array of flowers accompanied by an olfactory massage, and rivers running under bridges that seem to be frozen in time hundreds of years ago. With the wind at my back, the climb was unusually tame, but after stopping for a quick nibble, the grade quickly steepened and the climb to Pic de Nord began in earnest. This is what I had come for...I absolutely relish riding in the mountains, and this was exactly the type of climbing I want (don't have many mountains near London).

50 minutes and 15 kilometers later, I was at the summit...finally and was rewarded with a very nice view of southern valley and forests to the east, which was the next leg of the ride - the final destination being Minerve. The next 70 kilometers ended up being far more difficult than originally anticipated with all up and down riding with grades up to 18%; however, the roads were spectacular, the forest was pristine, the sun out in full force, a steady breeze, villages of no more than 15 homes + church and roads virtually empty....couldn't imagine a better setting.

Four hours into the ride and following an excruciating climb and woozy decent, I decided it was time to hang up or risk bonking…so we loaded up the bike and headed toward Minerve, a tiny medieval town constructed on an island in the middle of a canyon. The time invested to visit Minerve was well worth it. Visitors are only allowed to visit on foot - cars cannot fit on any of the streets - and the views of the surrounding canyon is impressive. There were a number of shops and galleries selling items from local wines to handmade linens and cafes lining the streets bordering outskirts of town. After about an hour, we decided we'd had enough of the heat (it was 90+ degrees) and headed back to Carcassone.

Dinner was had at Domain d'Auriac's up market restaurant (also in the garden), and it was superb.

Day 2

Today the Tour de France ended in a town called Revel, which is about 50 minutes drive from Carcassone and located at the base of Black Mountain. and just outside the town is a man made lake, La Baisson de San Ferreol, and just below the lake, is a Category 3 climb (in cycling terms) that was 3 km from the final stretch of the 13th stage. This would be the place where we'd watch the stage.

We planned to arrive relatively early - about 11 a.m. - given the race's arrival around 5 p.m., but as we neared the lake, we could see the revellers (no pun intended) had been tailgating since the prior night. The street was lined with motorhomes, flags of - pick any European nation - and music revving up the spectators.

After spending several hours swimming and enjoying the lake, we headed over to the climb and found a good viewing point (a steep part of the climb) for the race, which was expected to arrive around 5 p.m. The sides of the road were beginning to thicken with cyclisting enthusiasts and their bikes with other fans slowly trickling down from the summit of the hill. At 3:30 the "Caravan" arrived. Unbeknownst to me, a 45 minute parade of all the various TdF sponsors precedes the race EVERYDAY for three weeks. It was reminiscent of a high school (except on a much more professional scale - this is the best reference I have) homecoming parade with all the sponsors blasting music and throwing everything from plaid hats (like the one's Gilligan wears from Gilligan's Island), to dishwashing detergent, to candy, to bottle openers, to those big hands you'd see at football games. Great way to psyche the crowd up….

At 4:45 we could hear the drone of the helicopters nearing and the traffic, numerous motorcycles and TdF vans, began to increase. 5 minutes later one of the three helicopters emerged over the trees behind up and an army of motorcycles rounded the bend below. The peloton exploded around the turn with one rider separated from the bunch. Within seconds (it seemed) the pack was 200 meters down the road with 3 other cyclists attacking (one of them Vinokourov - who won the stage)…and BAM…the mass was within inches of us…tucked in with a stampede of team cars and motorcycles…we saw the yellow jersey (Frank Schlek), Contador, Thor Hushovd (in the green jersey), Lance Armstrong, Levi Leipheimer, . With astonishing speed and agility,  the main, leading group flew past us up the hill and the broken bits of the peloton passed behind the main groups for another 5 minutes.

I never imagined the Tour de France would have been such a spectacle, but given it is probably France's most famous event, I can understand why so much effort is put into the race. It really did show…one of a kind.

Day 3

Today began the most exciting part of the trip for me…the entry into the Pyrenees, which the Tour was celebrating its 100th year of passing through.

With an early start from Domain D'Auriac, we headed westward. After 45 minutes of winding through the midi-Pyrenees, we began to climb and climb and finally the towering peaks appeared before us once we arrived in Quillan. As we progressed towards Ax-les-Thermes, we continued to climb and the surrounding terrain become more and more reminiscent of what you would picture in the Alps - small villages sitting along the valleys almost always with a visible church steeple jutting up from the centre.

Once we reached the Col du Cioula, we began a steep, winding decent into the ski village of Ax-les-Thermes, which is at the base of the ski resort Ax -3 Domaines - the famous Cat 1 mountain top finish of Stage 14. At 11 a.m., the town was heaving with people awaiting the Tour de France's arrival at 5:00 p.m. Amidst the mayhem (small villages do not handle the sheer volume of people / cars very well at all - be prepared!), we managed to wedge our matchbox of a car into small parking place up one of the steep side streets. Ax-les-Thermes is beautiful town which sits at the confluence of the three large valleys and has several rivers snaking their way thorough the town. Immediately above the town, sits the ski resort with a gondola running up from the bottom of the mountain.

We grabbed a quick bite to eat and decided it would be best to take the gondola up to the stage finish and check out the scene at the top. So up we went. As we crested the ridge, we could see the hundreds of caravans, most had been parked there for several days, lining the 8 km road from Ax-les-Thermes to Ax-3 Domaines, and as you would expect, along with those caravans comes hoards of spectators. People were out on the road waving their respective country's flags and grilling out - very similar to a US football tailgate except with bikes - amidst the thousands of amateur cyclists having a go at riding the Cat 1 climb. The gondola passed over the caravans and the army of Tour de France media and transport trucks, and after about a 10 minute ride, we were there.

Since we had some time to kill, we walked around and surveyed the extensive setup for the finish. It's really quite incredible. Over 6,000 people are needed to help put on the Tour de France - everyday for 21 days. While everyone is sleeping, these people are moving the entire staging area, stands, jumbotrons, etc.

Now we were ready to begin tailgating, so we grabbed some beer and headed down the slope outside the 1k flag, beyond the barricaded portion of the climb and to where the crowds were massing, unrestricted and preparing for the arrival of the riders. This is the environment you imagine when envisioning the Tour. People dressed up as if it is Halloween….we saw ninjas, chickens, bumblebees, people in speedos (given it's in Europe - couldn't tell if it was normal garb or something special for the race), people wrapped in flags…and as you would expect, lots of spandex.

Finally, we could hear the rumble of the helicopters, and the crowd became increasingly more and more anxious. At the bend in the road below, we could see and hear the commotion and honking of the lead out for the riders. When the helicopter emerged over the tree line across from us, we knew the first rider was close. As the dense mass of spectators began to part, we saw the leader of the stage gliding up the climb dripping sweat and with a face a pure agony but knowing the win was in his grasp. A minute or two behind were the two main contenders for the GC classification - Alberto Contador and Andy Schleck. Being in the Pyrennees, the Spanish were out in droves to support Alberto and the screams of support for the rider could be heard as the pair fought side by side up one of the more difficult finishes in this year's Tour. The adrenaline was pumping as the two hammered up the final 2k, and in a matter of seconds, they were gone.

Then came several other groups with riders trying to maintain their respective positions in the race - others, obviously exhausted and completely spent, having already sacrificed themselves for team (i.e. helping the leader of team) and were simply trying to finish the stage. The parade of cyclist continued for about 30 minutes and just like that the stage was over. What an incredible spectacle!

As we walked down the road to Ax-les-Thermes, thousands of people were riding their bikes down to the village along with many of the professionals (cooling down I presume - saw George Hincapie, Ivan Basso, David Millar, Mark Canvendish - apparently Lance took a helicopter from the finish to the beginning of the next stage - ha!) - very, very cool!

That night we stayed in Soldeu, Andorra - stunning scenery and perched in the middle of the Haute Pyrenees. Would love to go back during the winter.

Day 4

Today, I mapped out a long ride from Soldeu to the French border, so the plan was to pass through Andorra, into Spain and then back into France - about 110 miles through some beautiful terrain.

To summarise, I rode nearly the entire length of Andorra in 45 minutes (all downhill)! Passed over the Collado del Cantó into Sort, which was where the 1992 Olympic whitewater competitions were held, up the valley cut by Río Noguera Palleresa up to the Port de la Bonaiguá (incredible scenery and there were cows and horses grazing in pastures above the treelike), and down into the valley to France.

That night we stayed in Lourdes, which is a very picturesque town at the foot of the High Pyrenees.

Day 5

This, sadly, was our last day in France, but promised to one of the best as we were headed to the one of the most famous climbs / mountain passes in all of France - the Col du Tourmalet.

The Tourmalet sits at the bottom of the Pic du Midi de Bigorre and is known as one of the most difficult climbs in the Tour. From the bottom, the climb is roughly 20 kilometres and for the last 15 kilometres averages an 8% grade with slopes greater than 10% at the top, but the scenery is sublime. It has been included more than any other pass (47 times), starting in 1910, when the Pyrenees were introduced.

Given the crowds which were going to be at today's stage, we got an early start and headed towards Luz Saint Sauveur, the start of the climb (actually today the riders descended through the town but two days later, it would be the final mountain top finish and decide the ultimate winner of this year's race). By 9 a.m. the crowds were already beginning to amass, and hundreds of cyclists were creeping up the road to the top of the pass.

We drove half way up the pass and parked the car. My mom grabbed the backpack with lunch and a fresh, hot french baguette strapped on the outside and began walking up. I grabbed my bike, descended to Luz Saint Sauveur to begin my try at the climb.  The climb was tough, but not as difficult as I thought beforehand; however, climbing it at the end of a 100 mile day after already climbing another HC and racing 18 other stages is another story. Ended up taking me about 1:10 minutes…when I timed Frank Schleck and Contador, they did the same stretch in 52 minutes.

At the top of the Col, the views were extraordinary. The valley below was lined with hundreds of RVs on the winding road up the pass, and the mountains towering above were stunning. Can't wait to return in a few weeks to backpack through this area!

So, we watched the Tour pass through - this time on the decent…and that was it!

Back to London….

Amsterdam and Sensation White

Overview

The destination was Amsterdam, and the visit centred around an electronic show called Sensation. Sensation indoor dance-event which originated in the Netherlands and organized by IDT. The original event, which ran exclusively in the Amsterdam ArenA for a period of five years until 2005, is now located throughout Poland, Spain, Chile, Germany, Belgium, Hungary, Czech Republic, Latvia, Russia, Denmark, Lithuania, Portugal and Brazil. Sensation (White) is mostly a trance and house event. All the attendees are required to wear white and the Amsterdam ArenA itself is elaborately decorated to match.

This event was mentioned to me a few months back by a friend of mine, and after some brief research, I decided that this would be a concert well worth attending. I asked my brother, Jackson, if he wanted to fly back over to visit and go to the show, and I received a resounding YES. So we purchased flights, hotel and tickets and Amsterdam 2010 was a go.

Day 1
We departed London Stansted on a perfect Friday afternoon just as the Netherlands / Brazil World Cup match was kicking off, and as soon as we arrived, the eruption of outstretched arms and piecing yells through cabin signalled the Dutch victory over the Samba nation. We made our way through the airport in a sea of orange and once we arrived at Central Station, the drone of the ubiquitous vuvuzelas seemed to engulf the entire city. We knew we had arrived at precisely the right time.

It had been about 6 years since I’d visited Amsterdam as a foreign exchange student, and this time the city felt so much more friendly and appealing, especially since the other visits were during February and March. This time of year the city’s inhabitants were out in abundance – riding bikes on the massive network of bike lanes throughout the city, cruising the canals on boats, enjoying the plentiful outdoor cafés, and the atmosphere around the World Cup win made the scene that much more enticing. Everyone was donned in orange shirts, orange body paint, orange hats, orange hair, and beer was drunk in copious amounts, and the police seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as the revellers parading down the canals (there were even boats with DJs set up blasting music out into the frenzied crowd).

After dropping off our baggage at the hotel, which was located south of Central Station in a popular area called the Leidesplien, we headed out into the melee. The Leidesplein is one of the busiest centres for nightlife in the city, and the square and the surrounding streets are full of bars, restaurants, outdoor cafes, theatres, dance clubs etc. So we grabbed some dinner, downed a few beers while watching the Ghana vs. Uruguay match (oh so painful for poor Ghana!) and took off to into the night.

We decided to make a pass through the overflowing pubs in Leidesplien and then over to the more racy areas of Amsterdam to have a peak at one of the more fascinating districts in Europe (although overrun by unscrupulous, unsavoury disciples of human excesses). When you arrive in the Red Light District, you know immediately where you are...think Bourbon Street’s morality level taken down about 20 notches and mix drug use and openly accepted prostitution to the cocktail and you have Amsterdam’s most famous attraction. Walking through the Red Light district, you'll find short girls, tall girls, fat girls, skinny girls, school girls, naughty nurses, black, white, Asian....pretty much whatever your fancy...it’s there. It can be an awkward place to roam the street perusing the narrow passages showered in red and neon lights advertising what in most places occurs in clandestine, hidden crevices far from the public's eye, and it's all available for the right price. But nonetheless, it is a fascinating place regardless of the moral compromises.

Following the sensory overload...we decided to call it a night. Out.

Day 2
Today was the day we had come for. Jackson and I had been anxiously awaiting the show for about 2 months now, and the 10:45 p.m. start could not come soon enough. However, we had a full day to kill and also the Germany vs. Argentina match at 4 p.m.

In an effort to eradicate the effects of the previous night, I went for a run through a large forest / park in south Amsterdam called Amsterdamse Bos, which is Dutch for Amsterdam Forest. The approach took me through Vondelpark, which is right behind the hotel, down Amstelveenseweg and into the large park. An absolutely beautiful trail run, over small draw bridges, around lakes, by small creeks and clearings. There were rowing competitions in the Bosbaan and the spectators would ride their bikes along the lake cheering on their athlete of choice....quite a sight!

After the run, we grabbed some lunch and watched the Argentina vs. Germany match in which Germany decimated Maradona's Argentina 4 - nil. Before we knew it, it was time to return to the hotel to change into the all white garb and head to the Amsterdam ArenA for Sensation.

In place of replaying the entire event, I’m going to sum it up and say it was one of the most incredible productions I’ve ever seen. The DJs were fantastic, the beer went down far too easy, and it’ll be hard to come across another spectacle that matches the sheer largesse of the night. Needless to say, by 5 a.m. we were exhausted, so we proceeded to float back to the hotel to try and sleep off the impending hangover.


Day 3

12:30 headache....
wake up....
shower....
lunch and several bottles of water...
Dutch train(s)...
Schiphol....
Airplane....
Nap...
Heathrow...
English Train...
English Taxi...
Flat...
Phew!

Photos