Our friend Romaine left the UK under strict instructions “at least bring us back treasure “.
Tour fanatics [amateurs de cyclisme] in the family were jealous when they heard she’d delayed her return by a day to witness the Tour whizz through Lautrec for the second year running.
We joined the crowd in the village with minutes to spare before the “Caravan” started to arrive.
Excited cheers greeted a lone police car leisurely passing through–briefly in the spotlight.
We found our place with a good view up the approach road and held our breaths.
A couple more anticlimaxes and then the commercial carnival began.
All sorts of goodies flew through the air and were snaffled up by the waiting crowd–polka dot caps and keyrings, sweets and sausages.
Twenty minutes of wonderful madness and kids’ bags were filling up with goodies like stockings at Christmas.
“We should be over the other side where they’re stopping and handing out”
Romaine needn’t have worried…a knight in shining armour came to the rescue–more of that in a moment.
Oh yes and the Tour!–the reason we were all there.
We shot over the other side of the hill for a better view and waited.
Five helicopters flying in line announced –an “Apocalypse Now” moment–the imminent arrival of “the breakaway-group”.
We joined the children nearby waving our arms and shouting our delight.
The peloton followed–passing with a whoosh….!
It was all over and Romaine was still regretting being on the wrong side of the track!
In rides nephew Dominic–a veteran biker and experienced tour follower–with a bag of booty.
Every time he’d waved at a float from his isolated spot–goodies fell from the sky.
Dom’s a generous heart and Romaine’s only worry now was excess baggage at check in!