Tour de No Pants

I can now check of two events from my “life to do” list. The first, being in France during Bastille Day. Second, attending a part of the Tour de France in person. Check and check.

Cruising Around the Rhine River in Strasbourg

July 14th was a free day, so a CLE group traveled to Strasbourg for the day. This required being awake and waiting at the bus stop by 6:45. I made up the three extra minutes of sleep by cooling trotting to the waiting bus. A cool trot falls directly between a full sprint where one looks like a dork and a leisurely walk where one would seem rude.

Once in Strasbourg, we dodged raindrops boarding the bateau mouche to explore Petite France, the old town center. Following the boat ride, I had a creppy lunch next to a really large keg of beer that was twice as tall as me. The creppy lunch consisted of a crêpe filled with meat and cheese, and a side plate of mozzarella and tomatoes. Actually it was fantastic. The rest of the afternoon was spent rambling downtown under the German influenced architecture.

Inviting Friends Over?

“Please Don’t Pee! This is a Store, Not Your Toilet!”

The bus returned and from there I headed to downtown Besancon with classmates to celebrate Bastille Day. Like alot of national holidays, people like to go out to eat, and Besancon wasn’t any different. Thus, our reservationless asses were shit out of luck trying to find a table. After a dozen attempts at various restaurants, we had to grab something from the local kabob eatery, of the fast food lineage, duck into a covered alley for protection from the rain that fell for the next 30 minutes until the fireworks started. But while huddling in the alley, dining on gourmet kabobs, we decided to find a better place to enjoy Bastille Day, back at the dorms.

As we tramped back through the rain and festivities, French teens find this the time of the year best to fully express themselves, with fireworks. These pubescent humans found it quite funny to throw them directly at each other. One happened to be thrown directly above my head, not so funny ye may think, but no need to worry, my face is still fine, or at least as fine as it’s going to every be.

As fate and life in general would have it, we were diverted from the dorms to another locale that exists in every corner of the globe, an Irish pub. Thus I spent the national French holiday in an Irish pub with a group of Irish students. As the ever so wise Alanis Morissette stated, quiet ironic don’t ya think.

Those Sales Techniques Worked

Such a Character that Mathieu

Fortunately, I didn’t seek out the Tour de France, it came to me. For those of y’all who don’t follow athletes in lycra, this is the July event where 160 or so cyclists jump on a bicycle and race around the country trying to finish in the shortest time possible so they can wear a yellow jersey. This yellow jersey fits pretty snuggly, obviously a European fit I would say.

Undoubtedly, the Tour de France brings a dlot to the table, marketing teams from global conglomerates, huge purses for Tour winners, and cycling enthusiasts from around the globe. These visitors from all over the world may be even more interesting than the actual race. The day of the race down at Pont Canot, a prime spot in downtown Besancon atop of the bridge to watch the cyclists fly by. People waited two to three hours. I waited 50 minutes. Leading up to the peloton’s arrival, team cars, advertisements floating on trucks, and stores on wheels hawking Tour de France paraphernalia passed us and . . . interesting characters.

There was one particular character one might expect to see on New Mexican streets. A rather rotund guy wore a three sizes too small green Gatorade jersey with pink tights and boots. Let’s call him Mathieu, because he obviously was French singing various chants in French to get everyone excited. He entertained instead. He laid in the middle of the road posing for paparazzish photos. Since he didn’t get an arousal out of the crowd, he felt it necessary to just pull down his pants and swing his little French baguette. Unfortunately, he distracted everyone on the other side from the passing cyclists. Just kidding.

Then the Tour de France arrived. Amazing to experience and see great athletes for a minute. As long as people waited for the cyclists to pass, between one to three hours, the show was brief. It was the athletic equivalent of sitting at Disney World for an hour to ride a 45 second ride.

Here Comes the Leader of the Tour de France Pack

Alright, time for bed. Up next, the tourist magnet known as Luxembourg.

Cruising Around the Rhine River in Strasbourg

Anticipating the Arrival of the Tour de France

River Cruising Strasbourg

Only Cyclists Allowed!

Notre Dame of Strasbourg

Petite France

Never Lose Out on an Opportunity to Sell Something

"Please Don't Pee! This is a Store, Not Your Toilet!"

Looks Like a Gingerbread House

Proof

The Rhine River in Strasbourg

Here Comes the Leader of the Tour de France Pack

One Lucky Yellow Jersey Winner

Among the Masses in Besancon

Such a Character that Mathieu

Inviting Friends Over?

Thrilling Boat Ride

Those Sales Techniques Worked

Notre Dame of Strasbourg