A slice of the Tour de France

Summer in Europe is full of sporting events. This year, Wimbledon overlapped with the football World Cup, and major golf and Formula One events were also being held at the same time. But for three weeks in July, the Tour de France overshadows it all - well, at least if you're in France.

And this year, we were. We'd heard about a chalet that you can rent by the week in the French Alps (well, the pre-Alps, if you want to be technical) and not only was it free the second week of July, it was also on the route of the Tour. The town of Le Grand-Bornand apparently pays for the privilege since it brings tourism to the region, and the cyclists whizz through the town about four times a decade.

Plywood cyclists decorate the buildings in La Chinaillon

Our host, Wink, picked us up from Geneva airport and we had a day free before the cyclists were going to come through the town. Preparation had obviously been going on for some time - the roads were full of road-closure notices and large, brightly painted plywood cyclists were scattered through the hills. We stopped in at the tourist office to break out our rusty French, and were given a very exact timetable of when things were going to happen - the cyclists would be coming over the col (the ridge of the hill) at 12.53, and passing through the village of Le Chinaillon below at 12.57.

We spent a day relaxing at the chalet, perched above the old town of Le Chinaillon, which in turn is up the hill from the main village of Le Gran-Bornand. We made sure to buy some fresh French bread ("un pain, s'il vous plait") - the next size up from the iconic baguette. Paired with a nice white wine, olive oil, fresh tomatoes and avocados and a wheel of cheese, it was a meal to remember, eaten outside in view of the now-snowless ski slopes.

On the Tuesday morning, we left the chalet in plenty of time to get a vantage point of the hill. The cyclists would be passing right through the village, five minutes from our front door, but we decided to go further afield and join the cows on the downward slope. The walk itself was fantastic - we passed a via ferrata or rock-climbing wall on the cliff beside us, as well as several summer houses - apparently farming families live in them for two to three months of the year, so that their livestock can feed in greener pastures.

Our bright-yellow information pamphlet informed us that the caravane would be passing the col at 11.18, so we stopped climbing at about 11.00 on a likely-looking corner. The caravane, which the official daily newspaper informed us is celebrating its 80th year in 2010, is a parade of advertising floats which precedes the cyclists - and which you don't see a lot of if you're watching the Tour on TV. But apparently a good 39% of spectators show up primarily to see it go past - and for good reason.

The lead vehicle in the much anticipate sponsors caravan

The 45-minute spectacle includes 160 vehicles representing 33 brands, and giving away 16 million gifts during the three-week event. Our neighbouring spectators had gift collection down to a fine art - spread out and use your wits. One guy had an umbrella open upside-down to collect the items thrown by the people on the float. 

Quite a lot of people had arrived at the corner before us, a few days previously by the look of it. I hadn't noticed when watching the Tour de France on TV, but a popular summer holiday is to follow the action by campervan, and small communities build up anywhere there's a good place to park. Because of the road closures, they have to get there at least the night before, so it's impossible to see every stage of the tour, but many people see every second or third day.

And then in a matter of minutes in a flurry of aller aller aller - they were passed

After the caravane passed, we had to wait for nearly an hour for the first cyclist to reach us, and when he did, a cheer went up from the group at our corner. He sped past, surrounded by a bevy of support vehicles, as others rounded the corner at the top of the hill. It was a few minutes before the peloton passed us, the big group of cyclists that makes for the best photos, and they spread out as they went down the hill. Our crowd went wild: "allez, allez, allez!" ("go, go go!").

Over the next few minutes the last cyclists whizzed past, negotiating their way through the crowd of support vehicles and cheered on by the spectators. They disappeared down the hill, to continue cycling at the same speeds for another four hours, and that was it. The event we'd been waiting for, over in a matter of minutes. As for me, it was back to the chalet for a nice glass of French wine.

Linda Martin was hosted in Chinaillon by Chalet Balaena. All Photos are from Linda Martin's Flickr Files

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