Sud France

Allez! Allez! Allez! It’s that time of the year again when the infamous Tour de France steams its way through this country faster than you can say baguettes and frog’s legs – and I was lucky enough to be there to see it.


We arrived in Paris late on the 21st July after a frantic transit from Ios that included a late ferry, a slow Athens train ride and a Greek taxi driver who thought 180kmph was a suitable speed for driving two passengers to the airport. Luckily we still made our check-in with moments to spare and limbs intact.

So here we were, twelve minutes past midnight in a new city and a closed airport, completely perplexed as to what to do next. We had booked a rental car for the next day but had no idea where to sleep. Fortunately we managed to find a cab to take us into the city to the only accommodation that was likely to take us in at this ridiculous hour. Not surprisingly the hotel recommended to us by the taxi driver was located underneath a highway and included a free continental breakfast and someone getting arrested in the foyer. Needless to say it was a sleepless night.

On Wednesday morning we caught another taxi to Europcar and had an enjoyable and ‘hassle-free time’ (sic) picking up our car. For those that can’t appreciate my terrible sarcasm, let’s just say that I’ve had more success cleaning my teeth with a cheese grater than getting any co-operation out of a French car-hire salesman. Eventually though, after much restraint, the keys were handed over and we were on our way.

We didn’t last long. Sure enough, after 2 minutes of driving we had somehow managed to negotiate our way onto the Arc de Triomph roundabout. We soon realised we had no idea what were doing and hastily decided it would be best to turn off before we caused a seven-car pile up.

We pulled the car over in a side street and the scenario unfolded thus:

‘What the hell was that!’ my colleague screamed.
I removed my nails from the dashboard and took a look at our map of Paris.
‘Circle of Death?’ I suggested. Too right it was.

After some careful planning and some utter sheer luck we managed to avoid the ruddy roundabout altogether and were finally on our way to Annecy, our first stage of Le Tour. We were safe for now but in no way stress free.


Annecy was beautiful. We met up with some friends from Melbourne who let us stay the night in their rented chalet in the French Alps, about 1.5 hours from the race itself. We arrived at night so the next day we were pleasantly surprised with the view.


That day we drove back to Annecy to see the cycling greats; Armstrong, Contador, Canchellara and Evans battle it out in the 40+ minutes time trial around Lake Annecy.

The Tour itself has such a big impact on the French population, and the streets of every stage we went to were lined with locals – cheering, socialsing and dining on delicious picnics by the roadside. We relished in the electric atmosphere they created.




We followed the Tour for the next three stages; through Bourg de Peage,


up Mount Ventoux


and for the final leg into Paris along the Champs Elysees.


It was an experience I will never forget, and having the car at our disposal meant we could be as independent as we liked.

One thing you do notice while sharing the roads with Europeans is that for some insane reason they seem determined to set a new land speed record, even at the detriment of other drivers. Call me old fashioned, but I don’t have a particular urge to spend the rest of my holiday dead.

This was most worrying during our trip back to Paris from Mt. Ventoux. We left the mountain around 8pm, knowing full well we were about to drive the same distance between Melbourne and Sydney surviving on nothing but coffee, Red Bull and chewing gum.

Thankfully, no ill fate came of us and we arrived into Paris at 6am to find a room so uninviting that I’m sure most prisoners would refuse to repose in it. We were too exhausted to complain though and promptly fell into a deep slumber.

All up the three days spent on the road were memorable, exciting, and expensive and I will never regret nor forget them.



Fearn.