What does that mean, Tour de France? (1 x ?, for Dan)
Excuse me for believing it meant a Tour of France, my french was never that good at school! So, who decided it was a good idea to start the Tour of France in England??? (3 x ??? for Laney)
Some of you will know from previous posts, that I am a member of the Kent Search & Rescue, a voluntary group which can only exist and continue to help vulnerable people if they can continually raise funds to pay for the running of the services we provide. When Canterbury City Council asked if KSAR could put together a number of it's members to assist in the marshalling of the Canterbury stage of this years Tour de France in return for a lump sum donation to the group I jumped at the chance. It seemed like a very easy way to boost the funds; after all, without the funds there would be no group, and I figure it is up to all of us to spare time for these kind of events too.
We drove into and parked in the city just after 08:00 on Sunday morning. Everything seemed normal. Apart from the barriers along the grass verges of the roads, waiting to be placed when the time came, the city seemed to be doing a remarkable job at disguising the fact that within hours it was to host the finish of the first leg of one of the world's biggest sporting events. Our morning was to begin at 08:30 with a full briefing on the state of play, and the current issues we needed to be aware of with regards to security threats. We were allocated with a hi-vis vest, cap, and official TDF t-shirts, and then split into sections, each with a zone leader who then gave us our brief, walked the section we were responsible for and posted us intermittantly along the route. By 10am we were stood, stationery, crowd watching.
Actually that's a lie. At 10am there were no crowds, just the odd early bird, the habitual event goers, the one's that you could spot a mile off. A single, lonely figure, doing a great impression of a pack-horse, walking along the barrier which at this time was devoid of people. On their back, a rucksack or similar, obviously weighed down by the sandwiches, snacks, sweets and drinks. I'm sure some of these people think they are on a weekend jaunt, they take enough to feed an army. The day was already very hot, and their laboured efforts were clear for all to see. Not content with carrying sufficient supplies to cater for the entire crowd within 50 metres of their final resting place, they also carry 3-4 fold up chairs of various sizes and colours, a blanket in case it turns cold and a couple of umbrella's in case it rains. They walk the empty barrier line, eyes darting, assessing at which precise spot they will gain the best view. Every now and then, they stop, to catch their breath, and then move on.
More than one million people lined the route of the Tour de France as it started in England for the first time in its 104-year history.
Spectators cheered the 189 riders as they left Greenwich, south London, and rode out of the city towards Kent.
The 203km first leg of the race finished in Canterbury.
About 4,500 Metropolitan police were on duty over the weekend in addition to officers from Kent and a contingent from France.
My first station of the morning was quickly occupied by a pack-horse. I swear he had enough luggage to see him through the entire Reading Festival, never mind a day out to watch 15 seconds worth of cyclists speed down the road. He stopped right infront of me, put down his rucksack, chairs, brollies, kitchen sink, and opened up first one chair then another. Carefully placing the second chair at a precisely calculated distance from the first so as to claim the space in between as his own. In this space he placed the as yet 2 unfolded chairs, and the rest of the goodies he had struggled with. He sat down. Pride on his face. He had found his perfect spot, and what's more, he had beat the crowds to it!
At mid-day, I swapped positions with another of the team. The crowds were beginning to show up now, and vigilance was the order of the day. A couple close to me one amongst the many that had travelled down from London to see the Canterbury stage and were constantly canoodling on the grass, obviously very care-free. How I envied them at that moment. Aching feet, scorching temperatures and no-one to talk to, I was feeling very alone. As the odd support vehicle came through the route Ms care-free jumped onto her other halfs back for a better view, clinging round his neck and planting little, loving kisses on it. Some while later, Mr care-free said she should sit on his shoulders for the best view, she wasn't so keen.
"Come on" he said, crouching,
"jump on""No" came her giggly reply.
Obviously not one to be easily swayed, he grabbed her, both of them laughing, and tried to pick her up.
"No" she squealed in fits of laughter,
"I'm not going up there""Oh yes you are. One way or another you ARE going up there" He proceeded to bend forwards, grabbing each of her wrists he tried to force his head under her crotch to lift her onto his shoulders. For a split second, I thought she had relented and he was about to straighten up when she jumped out of his way.
When the carnival came through and the freebies were being tossed from the vehicles, grown adults turned into children with an animal instinct. 10 or more people would fight for every item that was thrown into the crowd. Pens, keyrings, sweets ... it didn't seem to matter what it was, they wanted it. Ms care-free managed to grab herself a miniture bag of Haribo. She picked it up, jumped up and down several times and launched herself from the ground into the waiting arms of her other half. Her hands raised aloft in a victory salute and beaming from ear to ear. She was so thrilled that she had finally outwitted the hoards of children who were jogging in line with the vehicles in order to get the biggest haul of goodies!!
The day went surprisingly quickly. There were worse things I could have been doing than basking in the sun for hours, people watching.
After the event, we were told that KSAR were to be given the magnificent sum of £950 for our efforts. A truly worthwhile day.
