Tim's Tour de France 2016: Journey Home

Well after the sign off on Sunday night, I still had a nagging sense that there was some unfinished blog business. If anything, because I forgot the final stat zone, technically the final drive home was part of the trip but also as an excuse for me to cling on to all this.

So here goes....

The journey home began at 6:30am and involved walking down the narrowest 5 floors of
stairs in Paris, half asleep, carrying a rucksack, over the shoulder record bag type thing and my big hold-all that I had dragged around France etc for three weeks. I committed the heinous crime of putting my credit card PIN number in and realising there were only 3 digits on the screen. I instantly forgot (panicked) which button cancels and which clears and found myself producing the 'excuse me, I'm an idiot' face and finger point. He hates me and presses the right button in the way a border guard hits the stamp at passport control.

I stumbled into the early morning Paris sun, not in a literary way but the bags were properly heavy. I realised immediately that when in a city as big as Paris, remembering no other directions to the car park than, must cross over the river, is not sufficient (remember heavy bags). I found the river...tick, crossed it...tick and picked a road that I hoped I had walked down on Saturday evening.

I'm actually far cleverer (lucky) than I give myself credit it for and was soon gleefully popping my ticket into the machine...credit card declined, debit card declined, no problem I have cash for the €50.50 fee (grrrr) but the machine had other ideas as it would only take one note and no others, making my €20's redundant. I hauled my stuff to the other side of the car park and played out the exact same scenario in another machine. Luckily this was an underground car park that played music (sign of quality remember) which also means it has a man in an office to whom you can pay for your ticket. He now has my ticket and €61. Sadly he failed one of life's great barometers of intelligence, the overpay to avoid change. I want a €10 note and a 50 cent coin but he can't fathom it, three times he looked at the €1 coin and sighed like I was the idiot. So he gives me back the €1 and a handful, not even a €5 note, a proper handful of change. I was so miffed I even got out the car at the barrier and walked round rather than performing cirque de soleil in the car.

Bruce did a sterling job of getting me through the centre of Paris, though he may have been thinking to himself 'get him across the river and I'm sure it will be fine'. It was fine, no need to join the Pheripherique (I have left my attempt at spelling this for everyone's enjoyment) which is a cross between the M25 and a Roman chariot race and I was away on the French (peage) motorway hurtling, legally, towards the tunnel and the train. 174 miles later and with time to spare I joined an impressive queue to get my hanging down thing, depicting my train, which was followed by a further queue for French passport control at which the guard managed a slightly less than cursory glance and finally on to UK passport control in which the officer failed me as a UK citizen by failing to ask me where I had been, what had I been doing in France, what was my cheese of the day or did I really meet Tejay Van Gaarderen and John Degenkolb.

Once on the delayed train and with my window open as instructed, I rested my head on the gap and promptly fell asleep only waking as the first rays of British sun crept through the train window and brushed my tired features (this is of course nonsense I was woken by a kid eating a packet of crisps loudly).

Driving on the 'other' side of the road was weird, queued on the M25 and I was home and this time it really was over....

Stat zone - Hoorah I hear you cry
Miles driven - 3470
Countries passed through - UK, France, Andorra and Switzerland. Would have been Spain but a bike race got in the way and virtually on the borders of Germany and Italy in the Alps and Bern felt German a lot of the time.
Number of cow bells purchased = 6
Amount of cheese brought home = 0. I forgot.
And finally miles cycled = 285
Which includes, lest we forget
Cote de Montpinchon (4)
Cote de Torigny les Villes (4) both ways
Cote de Saint Ferrol (3)
Col de Pertus (2)
Col D'Aspin (1)
Most of Las Lecets de la Grand Colombier (1)
Half of Mont Ventoux (HC)
Half of Finhaut Emosson (HC)
Col des Montets - both ways
Most of Andorra Arcalis (HC)
Most of Saint Gervais Mont Blanc (Le Bettex) (1)

To finish off I thought I would share my top 12 observations from the 3 weeks...

1. I'm sorry I don't speak French but just saying it again, faster, is helping neither of us.
2. Switzerland decide a language (and a spelling) and stick with it, Danke/Merci.
3. You can leave your car anywhere if the Tour is on and as long as it is not on the course, no one cares.
4. The French don't seem to think you need to provide any toilet facilities.
5. You can wee anywhere you like in France and no one cares.
6. Vegetarians are not a 'thing' in France. Cheese pizza is.
7. France is a beautiful country with so many surprises.
8. Andorra was stunning despite the sense of duty free everywhere.
9. Switzerland was picture postcard meets snow globe perfect, apart from the feeling that Swiss Francs were leaving my pocket by themselves.
10. I've never spoken to as many people, from so many different countries as I did on this trip, who knew I could be so sociable.
11. Shouting Brexit and laughing at the Union Jack (I know!!) is funny for about the first 10 minutes. Grabbing the flag and pulling on it, isn't funny at any point.
12. The Tour de France is great.

The End.