Etape 1 - setting the bar

From last time, I essentially broke the fold out bed in the middle of the night, fixed it and then broke it again. So a bit of noise, however how better to acqauint myself with my housemates?

We rose reasonably early (830am!) and rolled out an hour later. Destination: Le Tour de France. It was the finish in Verbier (Switzerland) that we were headed for, so it was great to have to pack the passport amongst other items.

As we left Chamonix there was a fairly large tour bunch, so we thought we would jump on the back of the bus. They were chugging along reasonably slowly though, so we went off the front and I tried to hold the Big Unit's wheel for the relatively short (4km ascent). About half way up, some of the tour group started to come past and they looked like they were all giving it a reasonable dig. I noticed one common factor - compact cranks. This in turn reminded me of the Big Unit's comments on compacts, which I will not reiterate here. Suffice to say I had a chuckle though.

At the border we were harassed by a bunch of obnoxious Aussies. We did not know where to start with our return of fire as they were dressed in cycling kit in their van. Further down the rode as we went past, they claimed that they were riding from there. In any case we soldiered on.

Half way up the next climb we stopped for coffee. No it was not a coloquialism, I actually drank coffee. The crossiont was crap - we thought they must have had them since the Big Unit was there last year.

We soldiered on up the next climb and then had the buena vistas of Martingy and a 12km descent to boot. Bittersweet really, as we would have to climb up this on our return.

Once through Martingy, we were on the race route. This is where the real fun began. People were lining the streets many kilometers from the end. At first, one or two only, then more and in particular a lot of kids wanting to give high fives along the way.

We arrived at the village at the bottom (base camp?) and proceeded to have a crack at our first category one (cat 1) climb of our journey. Now there were so many people on the side of the road it was unbelieveable. The climb would have been much more difficult without them encouraging us along.

I made it to about the 1500 metres to go mark and the Gendarne had closed the road off. Now I was separated from the rest of the group and without phone. So I was still excited, however that feeling of being a young lad lost in a shopping centre was in the back of my mind.

No need to worry as I caught up with the Big Unit pretty quickly. Then Baz. Now we had different problems. No food or water and we could not get to the top. While we were planning our strategy for life's primary requirement, a Vittel van came along handing out water. Problem solved. Now all we had to do was find MJ.

Once we had sorted the above, we descended to find a spot to watch the race. We had a group of Aussies in mind that we spotted on the way up. The Big Unit made one of his famous calls as he spotted a place he thought we could get a beer and something to eat. He was more than right. Food, drink, a band and carnival atmosphere followed as we dominated the table we had taken over. There was so much happening it was amazing. We were thoroughly entertained for about three to four hours.

An hour before the race came through, the "caravan" arrived. I use the quotation marks as the caravan is actually about thrity sponsors floats that come past, throwing out junk. I managed to score a few of those blow up bangning sticks early on. I gave a few to the kids next to me so they would not think I was mean when I went toe to toe with them later for the prize goodies. This part was a lot of fun and it was great to see that kids (and adults) around the world are all excited about the prospect of free junk!

There was a fair gap before the riders, which was filled by many important vehichles driving up the hill. Apparently there were 37 motorcycles before the first rider, and this is after all the important vehichles I just mentioned.

This part was really exciting and I also understood the beauty of watching the race in the mountains. You can see the support vehichles make their way up the hill and you know they are right near the riders. Everyone is standing on the road (the whole road) cameras poised with anticipation. Then the motorbikes come through, the commisaires (umpire effectively) vehichle and then the riders.

In this instance, Alberto Contador had had a crack from 5km to go and was about 30 sec ahead when he passed (literally a metre away). Then a group with Lance, Kloden, Sastre and Evans. Then the brothers Schleck, separated by a few seconds. Then the others.

This was truly amazing. Being on the side of the road with all of the other crazy people I had seen on TV and then being part of the seas that separate at the last minute when the riders come through. I was close enough to also see that a lot of these boys were in a world of hurt. Strangely satisfying, as they were only going up the hill slightly faster than me!

Once the riders passed everyone started descending by bike and foot. We managed to get on the wheel of a couple of pros and got a taste of seeing the oceans part for us. All of a sudden there were officials telling everyone (pros included) to move over to the right and we were wondering why. Then there was a car and a rider. A bit further down another car and another rider with the sag wagon behind him (labelled "fin de course"). Those boys must have been 15-20min behind at least and would have struggled to make the time limit.

A truly magnificent day, which from a sporting perspective rates with meeting Dennis Lilliee and the Aussie cricket team when I was eight years old, and the Red Sox game at Fenway last year.