WARNING: This blog post may contain scenes of randomness, hilarity, drunkenness and overall joy. Please use discretion prior to reading this post as it is LONG and factual.

This blog will probably be the hardest blog to write as each day during Le Tour, Ed, Kam and myself would religiously conduct ‘catch-up’ sessions to recount and reminisce what happened that day. This usually lasted for an hour or so, or at least 2 drinks, occasionally creating new entries for the next day. Now that I have prefaced this blog with the required warning, I can begin…..

I will begin where I left off, Portugal. After a speedy exit from the beautiful Porto, we headed North East to France. Our aim? To catch Le Tour De France, and support “Our Cadel” as he powers up the Pyrenees. But before we could get there, we had a few kilometres for Sooty, Kam and I to travel. We headed through Portugal and into Spain, stopping overnight across the border. We had a lot of ground to cover in a short amount of time; however we still made time to stretch the legs in Toro for more of our favourite Spanish delights, Tapas and Tinto de Verano, then in Burgos for some rebajas (crazy end of financial year sales) where Kam took advantage of the 50-70% off discounts.

We camped just outside Pamplona in a campsite with the fanciest bathrooms (i.e. marble finishes) that would rival the most exclusive country clubs (so much so, Kam and I couldn’t stop taking photos of the bathroom). Leaving this campsite we realised that our decision to stay just outside Pamplona rather than IN Pamplona may have not been the best decision. As the car pulled into the outskirts we started noticing more and more people dressed in white and red. As we passed through the security blockages of armed police with road spikes at the ready we started thinking that something was up. Yes, of course, the running of the bulls… It seems that for the first time our research had NOT payed off. When researching the running of the bulls, we saw the date of 6^th July – needing us to travel half way across the country to get there in time. This would have seen us miss the opportunity to visit Portugal. Unfortunately for us we didn’t realise that the event was not a one day event but ‘the running the bulls’ happening every morning at 8am for 10 days! We had to take comfort that we didn’t get mauled by bulls, and still got to see everyone in their getup; damn! Something for next visit!

Within not much time we were over the border and into France – not that we even knew. If we thought previous border crossings were uneventful, this time we had travelled more than 50km before we had even realised that we were in a new country. No signs, no welcomes, just mountains; albeit some beautiful ones, the Pyrenees. Somewhat tuckered out after the big drive, we bunked down beneath a large tree at a lovely campsite on the outskirts of Lourdes in preparation for our long few days of Le Tour watching. We thought the tree would be the perfect shelter for the few drops of rain that were predicted overnight. Apparently the gods hadn’t got the memo, and our decision for “tree shelter” became worry of “tree lighting rod” as lighting strikes, claps of thunder, deluges of rain and whistling gusts of wind hit our little 2 man tent throughout the night.

Our plan was to spend the next 2 nights camping in the Pyrenees to see 2 of the legs of the tour; Stage 12 finishing in Luz Ardiden about 40km from Lourdes, and Stage 13 finishing in Lourdes the following day. We had organised with Ed (one of my mates from Adelaide 😉 ) to share our Le Tour adventure together. Through a flurry of Facebook messages, Skype calls, and emails, we had strategically managed to meet up with an equally hirsute Ed Lucas at Lourdes train station. Ed had been travelling in roughly the same areas and in the same direction around the globe as us, so it was great to hear his travel stories and share our war wounds with each other. But before we got too deep in discussion we needed to sort Ed out with some accommodation.

Ed had agreed to come camping with us up the mountain, but unlike us he had no camping gear, so our plan was to deck him out at Decathlon (a really cheap outdoor store in France). When Decathlon was closed the next best option was found; the €2 shop (think Cunningham’s Warehouse/Reject Shop/Clints – dodgy as!). €30 later Ed had himself a tent-ish, a sleeping mat-ish, something resembling a blanket, and even a camping mascot we named Candice (an air freshener with a picture of a scantily clad blonde who stank of very cheap vanilla perfume). The quality of Ed’s tent was nothing much to sneeze at, so we all prayed for better weather tonight than yesterday.

We were advised by the tourist office that the roads to the stage end where we wanted to watch the tour would be closed from 8am the next day, so we had a decision to make. Head up the mountain today and get a plot of land, or risk the rush tomorrow and get an early start? Obviously not confident with Ed’s new abode, we opted for the campsite option tonight and a 4am start to secure our gold position. 4am in chilly Lourdes was early, especially after half an hour of unsuccessfully trying to pack up Ed’s “el cheapo” tent back in the bag it came from. Kam and I were comfy up the front with a great view. Ed, not so much, as all he could see was the blue polyester of his €15 tent in a semi-dissembled state taking up the most of our back seat. We did have to constantly check on him to make sure he was still with us, as the lack of space, toxic fumes from our mascot Candice, and non breathable polyester covering his head was a little worrying, but we made our way to the foot of Luz Ardiden, the final climb of a gruelling day of Le Tour mountains, on the very French holiday of Bastille Day.

We weren’t sure what to expect, packs of people lining the street, busloads of tourists trying to catch a glimpse, or, tents lining the sides of the roads all the way to the top? At 5:30 am, what we found was something very different to our expectations, lots of space, areas to park the car, and a motorhome with Carlton flags. The fantastic corner, a few km up the mountain, above 3 or 4 hairpins, and 10km from the finish was too good to be true, especially when we saw a perfect patch of grass next to a motorhome draped in Aussie flags! To be fair, we hadn’t even noticed the Aussie flags, as the 3 Carlton flags on the van stood out like “dog’s balls” (to coin an Aussie phrase). Bernie arose from the motorhome to find 3 more Aussies to chinwag with for the remainder of the day. Bernie from Darwin had spent the last 2 weeks following each stage of the Tour, driving to the next leg each day and setting up to camp the night prior in his rented motorhome, he proved to be a fantastic asset for Kam and I, Le Tour Virgins.

To celebrate Bastille Day and to welcome new friends, Bernie popped the cork of our first bottle of Champagne at 8am, and the French delights kept flowing all morning. As 9am neared, more cars started climbing the mountain, the scarcity of parks became apparent, and any space was soon snapped up. We had nailed a perfect position with enough space to have a siesta tent, 3 chairs and a wall opposite to hang our signs. We spent the morning eating pate, foie gras, and fromage, drinking champagne, vin blanc, and Kronenbourg, Tres Francoise! While lubricated, we decided to come up with the slogan for our motivational poster for Cadel. It needed to be Aussie, it needed to spur on Cadel, and it needed to be witty; the winner:

“It’s a long way to the top, if you want to ROCK Cadel!” – (Thanks Bernie)

Perhaps because of our Aussie signs, but more so because of the Carlton flags, our group of Aussies swelled from 4 to around 15 as the day grew on. Our “Aussie Elbow” grew to be quite the party hub. Considering we arrived at 5:30am and the riders weren’t due til around 5:00pm, the day seemed to fly! Vodkas came out, more wine, starjumps, and lots of stirring each other, just the sort of atmosphere we were looking for. Not content just with Aussies, we spent our time chatting with French, Norwegians, Belgians, Japanese, Spanish and even the Dutch, a very multicultural affair.

The hour was almost upon us, our once empty area had swelled so much that the green of the grass couldn’t be seen anywhere. The area was tense, we were excited, we were primed in position, we heard the helicopters… and then they came, winding up the curvy roads, snaking up the side of the mountain one after another; THE FREEBIE FLOATS! This was the time when all the sponsors of Le Tour threw out tacky freebies to promote their wares, but all us boozed up foreigners couldn’t get enough of it. Jumping around and waving our arms like idiots to get a plastic key ring, or a flimsy hat; we LOVED IT! So much tack! The highlight was Ed shouting and screaming to get a freebie, only to realise how rubbish it was and hurl it back into the float with disgust! The entire crowd lost it, hilarious!

The freebie floats were the prelude to the riders, and we were now seriously excited. Our position meant we could see the riders a good 4 hairpins prior to them arriving at our corner, this prepared us for their arrival, and allowed Ed and I time to limber up before our run. Not sure that Cadel would see us, we draped a yellow poncho over Ed’s back, and I donned a Yellow high vis vest and moved to the side of the road. As they neared the bend our hearts were a flutter and we started to trot. As they came closer we took to a canter. Very soon we were galloping, yelling and screaming “Allez Allez” as we motivated the riders up the final climb. It was all a bit of a blur, but the great thing is that Ed has some brilliant footage of us running, clearly showing how close we got to Cadel (lucky I stayed on my feet after all that Champagne; taking out Cadel would have not fared so well with the rest of the Aussies). I strongly believe it was our support that allowed Cadel to remain in 2^nd on the overall standing at the end of this stage. As the tail wagged, we ran again for Stuart O’Grady and motivated him up the mountain too. After the riders had scooted past us up the mountain we realised that even though only half an hour of our day was taken up by cycling, the day was so much more. Camaraderie, rivalry, hilarity and tacky freebies, all with a very international feel; our day had been brilliant, and certainly one we would never forget!

Soon the parties started packing up, bags were packed, cars were filled, and the traffic began. Our fantastic park high up the mountain quickly became a logistical nightmare as there is only one was y dow for the thousands of fans. As we headed down the mountain with thousands of other cars, we quickly found the bottle neck. We were stuck! The local Gendarmerie advised us to get comfy the 3-4 hour wait had only just begun. An impromptu game of street cricket with Aussies, Poms and others from around the world, led into dinner on the side of the road with our trusty camping stove! In almost freakish timing, the last spoonful of pasta was consumed just as the traffic unclogged! We were fed, and on our way after a long and amazing day, back to the campsite to reminisce and sleep it all off!

For day 2, a sleep-in was in order. As we were in staying in Lourdes, the town of the stage finish, we thought that we might position ourselves towards the end of the leg leaving us time to get there, and more time to relax. No 4am starts today! A stage end for Le Tour, coupled with the fact that Lourdes is one of the most important religious sites on the Catholic atlas, we were a little worried about the parking situation. 2^nd only to Paris for the most number of hotels in France, Lourdes was a tourist hotspot with religious paraphernalia being sold left right and centre. We took advice to walk the 5km from our campsite rather than trying to drive in closer. The religious tourists didn’t miss a beat, and were still there in droves despite sharing the town with “some cycling race”. However, despite our fears, it seemed that no one had driven, the 200+ car parks metres from the Le Tour route were empty, very much rubbing salt in the wounds of our tired legs. In our minds, we felt that the walk simply provided guilt free pate eating, and carbo-loading of beer.

Yesterday we were focussed on experiencing the day, and soaking up the atmosphere. But today, our mind was focused on only 1 thing, TV coverage. We positioned ourselves by the barrier gate (full of advertising), on the uphill (where the riders would slow down), before entering the town (to avoid being cut to a pre-recorded summary of the town), 3km from the finish line. We had a hill to place our banners, and our position meant no-one could stand between us and the camera, perfect! Like yesterday, the weather was great, and Ed and I decided to play a bit of bat and ball, which was a bit of a laugh. This lasted for about 20 minutes when I decided to extend the olive branch to an onlooking Frenchman, handing him my bat to have a hit. Quite literally after 2 hits, “Henri Laconte” (as we dubbed him), smashed our only ball over the low wall, perched above a cliff full of bracken. Thinking that he could retrieve it, he leaped over the wall, wrapped some bracken around his wrists and exclaimed “Don’t worry, I am French, I know this country”. Needless to say, he came back empty handed…

After selling our souls for tacky merchandise the day before, we all decided that we didn’t need to focus on the freebie floats today, and would only try and get freebies from the floats we wanted. This lasted no more than 30 seconds as we formed “Operation Crap Collect”. As Commander in Chief, I strategically positioned the troops along the terrain, bellowing such tactical war crys as “Spread Out” and “Maximum Coverage”. Soon it was clear that it was all worthwhile as our booty was phenomenal, far outweighing the previous days haul.

Again our Aussie signs had worked their magic, and we gathered another Aussie into our fold, 23 yr old Shane from Melbourne. He tagged along, and helped us keep up the Aussie spirit (more on Shane later…). Again Ed and I limbered up to run alongside the leaders (hopefully Cadel). Not happy with getting zero TV coverage yesterday, we again started to think tactically. We looked at the line that the riders would take, discussed where the cameras would be, thought about TV helicopters etc, it was turning into a big operation, big enough to even rival “Operation Crap Collect”. So as the riders came, Ed and I began, we started running and cheering on the leaders (no Cadel, but that didn’t matter). Just as I returned from the leaders, a small pack of riders continued to the finish… accompanied by a camera bike… pointing the camera right at me… I was so chuffed at running alongside the leaders that, without realising, I forgot today’s goal… TV COVERAGE. Apparently I was captured on film, but more of a passing glance than anything noteworthy.

Again we had a blast throughout the day eating, drinking, meeting new people from throughout the world and watching the riders power to the finish. As the last of the riders passed us, we followed the route to the finish line hoping we could grab a signature or a souvenir T-shirt. It was clear that the riders were a lot quicker than us walking, as we arrived to a semi dismantled stage and a couple of news reporters doing their sign-off. But what we did find was a makeshift pub, originally a tobacconist; a bar emerged with cheap drinks and nibbles for all. And so begins the night of randomness…

There are literally so many things to discuss that with fear of boring you I will need to put them in bullet points:

• Playing AFL footy with some rugby playing Frenchies in the streets of Lourdes
• Meeting famous World Cup winning French/Lourdes rugby front rower???
• The entire “pub” using the wall next to our bags as a urinal
• 6 year old kid stealing half finished beers from the table , finally crouching to a surly mess in the gutter
• Singing AC/DC with a pack full of Frenchies
• “Anthem Battle” where we sang our national anthems as loudly as possible – apparently Waltzing Matilda won…
• All 4 Aussies talking ‘French’ with French locals who spoke no English
• Befriending said Frenchies, and being invited back to their house for dinner
• Piling 10 people in a 4WD driving to our campsite to pick up our car
• Marquee, BBQ, beers and plenty of food at Frenchie local house
• Hotdog balls – FACT!
• Host of the party bringing out a Sydney Tigers jersey
• Random spirits, that despite our request, we were not told the name of
• Frenchies that as they got drunk, forgot they could speak English
• Being told off by the host for wanting to use a toilet, rather than the fence
• Shane joining us at the campsite asking to sleep in the back of our car as he was leaving at 4am to catch a train

A truly random and unreal night, but the true icing on the cake was found the next morning. As we awoke to see the back of our car empty, we realised Shane had not gone without leaving us a parting gift. Shane “Chucksly” had left behind his own calling card, mounded next to our car, full of hotdog balls and all. Sometimes what happens on Le Tour doesn’t stay on Le Tour…