Excited about the Tour de France!

Yesterday the Tour de France swept through my town and into Paris on the last leg of the race. It's a lot of hurry up and wait - first the publicity parade screams by, giant 6 packs of Heineken on wheels, enormous rounds of Breton cheese rolling down the street at 50 km. per hour music and horns blaring, projectiles of free stuff hurtle through the air at bystanders, offered by attractive teenagers belted onto the floats for safety. Then the press trickle by, every time a car approaches the air crackles with excitement - is the pelaton close behind? It's rather like waiting in line at Disneyland for the most popular ride on the busiest day of the year. Finally they arrive, and the athletes competing in this famous race are literally inches away - so close you could kiss them! In a blink of an eye they have passed, and after nearly three hours of waiting patiently the event is finished. But who can resist? It's one of those things you simply must do if given the chance. My proprietaire (landlord) is an interpeter by vocation, and was traveling with the tour working for France television. She promised press passes, so along with a few friends I jumped on the train to Paris and the Place du Concorde for the big finish. Thousands of people lined the Champs Elysées, the lucky ones in bleachers, others crowding every inch of sidewalk around Concorde to watch the pelaton circle around the obelisk toward victory. Try as we might to find Madame (and our passes), on foot, by phone, or by text it just wasn't happening. So we decided to take matters into our own hands, and as soon as security turned to ogle a beautiful girl in a miniskirt, we slipped by and into the inner sanctum of the tour. Huge buses that ferry team doctors, coaches, and champagne were parked haphazardly, girlfriends and family members offered hugs and kisses to men they haven't seen in a month, save on television. The seductive sound of cork popping from countless bottles filled the air, and the press jostled to interview the controversial Lance Armstrong. The top three finishers were celebrated at the podium, and after, the top 10 teams cycled lazily up the Champs Elysées one last time with cellphones recording the moment for posterity. Some stopped to sign autographs. Smiling and waving to an appreciative crowd, they were clearly enjoying themselves. Perhaps this is my favorite part of the tour, seeing the cyclists relaxed and happy, no head butting here! As the parade came to a close and the crowd began to disperse, we went again in search of Madame. Weaving through countless media trailers and trucks, careful not to trip over thousands of meters worth of cable, we saw the roadies packing up as they had every day for the last month, like a giant traveling circus. The circus that is the Tour de France!