Leaving the hotel, parking the car, getting the tickets from the automated machine and lastly getting on the right train all went without a hitch. Great start to the day.
The door to the compartment of the seat number in my ticket was pretty stiff but with a couple of good shoves I got it open and sat down. Someone had left their briefcase open on the on the sear with lots of paperwork and rail tickets. When the guard came back it turned out I had broken the lock on the door of the compartment he had commandeered as his office. He got very shouty and frog marched me down the corridor and put me in another seat. Oopsie!
With that behind me finding the Place de la Concorde was easy enough but getting anywhere near the podium or finish line was a no no. Bugger! Everything is fenced off now for invitees only. Not very egalitarian! You've either got to have money or special needs to get in. Now if anyone looks like they've got special needs.....I should have been at the front of the queue.
Abandoning hope of seeing the finish I set off in search of a good spot. With tight security it wasn't until beyond the Élysées Palace that you could get to the Champs Élysées.
With crowds eight deep I had to settle for bugger all view but I was in Paris and on the Champs Élysées. I got talking to an American couple who were just in town for today before heading off to 'do' Britain. It turns out that this chap used to work for Bob Stapleton the owner of HTC Hiroad the team that Cav rides for. Just then his phone rang "Hey Bob. Long time no speak. Yeah. We're in Paris, France. That'll be neat we'd love to come and meet the guys."
He turned to me and said Bob's invited us to the team bus to meet the guys. Nice to meet you we'll be off. Obviously insane with jealousy I managed to choke out "Say Hello to Mark Cavendish." At which he said over his shoulder "Who?" and walked off.
Now I have been known to faff from time to time and double check a couple of times. Just as well I did as my return to Troyes was for 7am and not 7pm but that was OK I could sort that at the station. However, the stub of the ticket for parking the car was with the rail ticket and I only had an hour left on the ticket. KNICKERS!
I wasn't sure how strict the French are about parking fines, clamping and towing so thought I had better not wait and find out. So I managed to grab the photos below before heading back to get the train and save the car from the pound! Better luck next year eh?
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