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Tour diary
Fights between colleagues, races down country lanes ... and that's just the reporters!
by Philip Turle
Article published on the 2008-07-24 Latest update 2008-07-24 15:43 TU
Cyclists compete in the Alps during the 17th stage
(Photo: Reuters)
Everyone is asking who will wear the yellow jersey on the Champs Elysées, but how many reporters will finish the race? It's an exhausting marathon, involving fights with your colleagues, arguments with hoteliers, races through country lanes and airborne free samples, water and other liquids.
So how does a journalist cover the Tour de France?
First, it is extremely tiring. The route, an average of 170 kilometres a day, is usually down winding country lanes through some of the more remote villages of France. Athough all the roads are closed to public vehicles, you can only drive at between 50 and 60 kilometres an hour.
The routes are lined with tens of thousands of people and the greatest numbers gather in the mountains. As we drive past they wave, shout, tap the car and squirt water at us. I am always amazed there are not more accidents. Over 300 cars take the route every day and some of them drive very fast, especially in the downhill mountain sections.
The only casualties this year so far have been two members of the public injured by a team car which lost control and hit a barrier.
The day always starts at the so-called "departure village", a specially-built open-air construction situated close to the start of every day’s stage. Guests, riders, sponsors and officials gather here before the race begins, and members of the public who are invited can see Tour legends such as Raymond Poulidor, Bernard Hinault and Bernard Thevenet.
Journalists can interview riders and officials, there are buffets and, if you are lucky enough to be allowed in, you can even have a free hair-cut. A bell announces the moment when car drivers must return to their vehicles and take to the road.
The route usually takes about four hours. It is generally very pretty, and is the result of months of painstaking research by Tour officials. There must be no roadworks, no potholes and no motorways.
The important thing is to get to the finishing line before the riders - so not much time for photos or visits to places of interest.
Sometimes the race to the line entails overtaking the publicity caravan, a motorcade of dozens of vehicles with girls throwing free samples of washing powder, sweets, cheese, shopping bags and sun hats to the public.
I myself have been part of the caravan - once inside a sweet container on the Haribo float, and once on board a Citroen 2CV throwing pieces of sausage to the hysterical crowd.
One of the girls on board said that she had been hit by stones, urine, and water and had had people trying to grab hold of her hand while she handed out packets of wine gums. The driver of one of the 2CVs told me that by the end of the Tour he was singing the advertising jingle about sausage in his sleep.
Once the stage has been completed and the struggle to find a parking place is over, there is a brief visit to the press office to see the state of the race on television. Then a scrum begins as the hundreds of journalists and photographers rush to the finishing line to try to grab a few words or a shot of the first riders to complete the race.
Getting reactions in English is always more difficult than in French, Spanish or Dutch. On some occasions the competition gets physical. I recall an American journalist shouting abuse at a TV reporter who had hit her in the face with his camera during the scrap.
Despite these displays of journalistic enthusiasm, many of the riders go cycling by at top speed before disappearing inside their team buses. Let’s face it, who would want to talk to a reporter after cycling 210 kilometres of steep mountain paths in the hot sun?
There is more jostling round the back of the winners' podium, as TV, radio and written-press journalists all lean over a metal barrier to try to grab a few words from the stage winner or yellow jersey holder. Then it’s back to the press centre to edit the interviews, file reports and do commentary on the day’s race.
The hotels are reserved for us by the Tour de France. They offer a marvellous view of the French hotel industry at its best and its worst. You can stay in a beautiful, small hotel in a village run by a charming couple who bend over backwards to make sure your stay is as comfortable as possible.
Or you can come up against a hotelier who obviously missed his vocation in life and is determined to make you pay for it.
“But Monsieur, I ‘ave no time to ‘elp you with your bags or with any problems….what do you expect? I am too busy. My hotel is full!"
Oh well, at least it's only for one night…..
