We are in Grenoble, or more accurately, Crolles, France. More about Alpe d'Huez further down.
Maybe it's just me, but there always seems to be something unexpected or ridiculous and wonderful that happens on these trips. After the train ride from Nice to Grenoble via Marseilles and Valence, which reminded Joe of Northern New Mexico, we arrived with anticipation about Alpe d'Huez. Shuttle buses would take us to Bourg d'Oisan, the base of the mountain and the start of the time trial. Our hotel would be right next to the bus/train station, so we would just get up and go. No problem, right? Ha!
Experience Plus
First rule of making hotel reservations: always confirm with the hotel. When we got to the Novotal Grenoble Central, we were told our reservations were for July 22-24, not July 20-22, which is not true at all. Why would I book after the alp stages and overlap with Paris accommodations? So the hotel is booked and all hotels are booked in Grenoble and we are looking at sleeping in a parkbench somewhere. Sitting in the lobby, desperately trying to make calls, Joe, the schmoozer, noticed some folks with yellow shirts and LIVESTRONG wristbands. The group is part of a tour company in France called Experience Plus. Using our LAF connection, he pleaded for a room, we'd be willing to share and sleep on someone's floor at this point. It turns out they did have an extra room at a hotel down the road called Hotel Royal. After multi thank yous and a promise to send LAF stuff, we got a place to stay, at least for one night. Hopefully, my LAF friends will join me in thanking them once again. I'll provide their contact information when I return. Ah, but the story doesn't end there!
Crotchety Frenchman in a bathrobe
Getting checked into the new accommodations, the Hotel Royal, we asked the night clerk about leaving our bags with the hotel the next day so we don't have to schlep them around the mountain with us. He says fine. Great. Eat, get groceries for picnic, etc, etc. All is good. Until 5 am when we awake to leave for Alpe d'Huez. The buses go from 5-8, but we figure we need to go as early as possible to get our spots. Normally you check out of a hotel in the morning and get on your way. But this is no ordinary hotel. The front desk is closed, barricaded by a rolling gate, covering the entire desk. We could have just left. They never took our names or passports when we checked in. But the tour company would have surely been charged for it. We waited a bit, pounded on the gate a few times. Finally at 6 am, an old Frenchman in a white bathrobe opens the gate halfway, curses us in French. All I heard was "Minuit" and "Fou." Midnight and Fool. The French are not quite skilled at customer service. From what we could surmise, you are supposed to check out before midnight if leaving before a certain time in the morning. Nice of them to tell us. After more cursing from this lovely gentleman, who assuredly is the owner (and quite possibly in the wrong business), and my calling him "le fou," we just gave him the credit card to run and got the hell out. Don't ever go to the Hotel Royal in Grenoble.
L'alpe d'Huez
Fortunately, the Novotel hotel let us store our bags there for the day. After all, we still will use our reservation for the 22nd. Getting to Alp d'Huez on the bus was easy. Got to Bourg d'Oisans, walked a bit around the town, saw where the starting ramp was and walked up the course route. We met LAF Peloton Project Mentors Angie and Jerry Kelly, and some of their friends from Birmingham, AL, at switchback #21, the first turn after the flat initial run and first uphill grade. They are such nice, great people. Later, we met Melina and Wendy from last year's Tour of Hope team that traveled across the US, on bikes. That was 8 am. The caravan of sponsor vehicles that throw out Tour goodies doesn't start until noon, and the race doesn't start until 2. So there is a lot of waiting, drinking and baking in the sun, I think it was in the nineties today. We had guys from Austria dressed as Bozos, drunk Danes singing their national anthem every half an hour, a quiet Italian couple behind us, some Kiwis hung out for a while. Lots of Texans around, wearing UT shirts or Texas flags. I saw the guy with horns sticking out of his bicycle helmet. We saw a kid, must have been about 10 years old, on a tandem bike, pedaling furiously with his older partner. The waiting crowd gave him a big cheer of support. This is great people watching. And a great way to ignore the politics and problems of the rest of the world. People from all over the world are here together, just watching a sporting spectacle.
You can't imagine how many people go to this event. I've said it before, but television does not do it justice. The crowds are just unbelievable. Thousands of people rode bikes up the mountain to get spots. It's amazing that people don't get hurt. Team trucks, tour vehicles, support vehicles, gendarmes on motorcycles, sponsor trucks, all going up this 2 lane road with half of it occupied by walkers and cyclist, go up the mountain. Gendarmes would whistle to warn people of the impending traffic. One guy didn't heed the warning, just stopping in the road. The irritated gendarme picked up his bike and moved it to the side of the road. Great stuff. Some of the large trucks barely miss even those standing or sitting at the side of the road. And some of those trucks and vehicles struggle up the climb, emitting the nastiest, most pungent exhaust odors, worse than diesel or gas. It's like burning rubber and plastic. One of the sponsor vehicles during the caravan actually broke down in front of us. Some of the cyclists would even draft off of them. How they could breathe, I don't know. If the cars struggled up the mountain, just think how the human powered vehicles of the Tour de France athletes feel. You have to be in awe of all 157 of these fellows. By the time the stage starts, the road turns into barely a one lane road, covered with mass of humanity.
The Danes are urging the crowd to cheer for the next rider, either a CSC (a Danish team) Team member or a rider from Denmark. One guy, runs up the entire run before the next switchback in front of the cyclist, his flag held high, and in bare feet. I'd hate to see what his feet look like today after running on hot asphalt all day. Actually, he did put on his sandals a little later. The clowns also ran in front of their favorite riders, one of them almost getting clipped by the rider. A large German ran in front of Jan Ullrich, and Jan was hauling ass up the mountain. One guy who ran in front of a rider was pushed over by a cameraman on the chase motorcycle. I got mucho pictures, but not of Lance. I wanted to just cheer and wave my Texas flag as he went by. He looked calm and in perfect form. Hopefully he saw our LAF Banner, the LIVESTRONG banner and the flag. Maybe that's what spurned him on the the winning time and a commanding lead in the Yellow Jersey. Or it could have been the multitudes of people wearing LIVESTRONG Wristbands. I gave some away, some of whom were a little bewildered (no French word for cancer, or they have never heard of cancer???), others who asked for them, including a German fan of Jan Ullrich. This wristband thing is catching on; it knows know boundaries and does not discriminate. Kind of like the reason behind the wristband.
Evening in a chalet
After gathering our bags in Grenoble, we got in touch with an old LAF friend, Elli Overton, who was gracious enough to let us stay at her and her husband Alex' place here in Crolles, about 20 minutes northwest of Grenoble. It is a chalet tucked in the alps. Absolutely gorgeous here and a relaxing vacation from the vacation. Elli spent the previous day at the top of Alp d'Huez in a little apartment. We obviously got to her place before she and Alex, so we ate at a nice little neighborhood restaurant and sat on her back deck for a bit. Now it is time for relaxation, perhaps a little hike in the alps, a little laundry, and sending emails at the Internet Cafe du Elli et Alex.
A little bit long on this email, but hopefully enjoyable. See some of you in Paris!
Au revoir!
Live Strong!
Darryl
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