The gloss wears off quickly

Tour de France 2024, Saturday 13 July, Stage 14 Pau - Pla D’Adet

By car: 0 km

By bike: 17 km

Tat: three hats (finally !), a sleep mask, a scarf and info of Béarn Region, two mini-screwdriver key rings, two bags of biscuit snacks, two bananas, some saucisson, and a cup of coffee.

A wonderful sleep at my air-conditioned B&B Hotel. I hope the Arkea B&B Hotel team slept as well in their Kyriad hotel down the road. Early bed and a good night’s sleep makes a big difference, and I was up and ready early.

So I cycle down to the start - a magnificent setting (admittedly next to Pau railway station) overlooked by the magnificent Boulevard des Pyrenees, an evocation of La Belle Époque. If you’re looking for Tour tat, getting to the sign-on early is obviously a key. I finally get a hat (or three), but realise that even a 09:30 start is was too late for the professionals - the French Granny. By the time I arrive, they already have two bags (themselves blagged of course) full of tat. I’ve seen them before, they hunt in packs, they’re far more nimble than you will ever be. It doesn’t matter what it is, if it’s being offered for free, grab it.

I wander over to the Senseo waggon for a coffee (as there’s a bit of a queue, the Grannies give this a wide berth - queueing is serious downtime in the hunt for tat) and chat to his assistant, who’s a proud Breton and insists on being shown how portable the Brompton is, and how it folds. They are suitably impressed.

But I’ve got a hat (a serious omission not to bring one, or blag one on day 1) and the attraction of  the rammy very soon wears off, and I head back up into the town. The gendarmerie here obviously have strict instructions to stop anyone cycling, and every couple of hundred metres or so I’m admonished for cycling on the piste cyclable when I’m the only person around.

Pau is a beautiful city, and an illustration of how, with a little careful thought, architectural styles from differing eras can sit alongside each other. I finally find a boulangerie and a cafe nearby, and sit in the sunshine, eating my pain au raisin and sipping my noisette. Pau has a modern indoor market, and next door is a large indoor area where anyone is welcome to come and sell their local produce on a Saturday. Deals are struck, bargains had, and acquaintances renewed. There’s life, warmth, personality and smiles in this city centre. I’m also struck how clean everywhere is - even in the start area. Everyone shares a duty and pride in keeping the place spick and span. 

I wander back down to the Boulevard des Pyrenees, and realise this is a better plan for my days next year. Travel to a spot for the day, perhaps see something of the local area, watch yesterday’s highlights programme - it’s so easy to lose the whole story of the race when you just see a snapshot of the race and the headline results during the day. After the riders have passed, get to your next accommodation as soon as you can, get a good meal and an early sleep.

I watch the depart fictif wend its way below me, and then back and immediately past me. And that’s it. For me, it’s a cycle back to the car, and nearly three hours drive home, for the riders, a weekend of dramatic riding in the Pyrenees. Next year I will be following them there.