I think I understand where the Tour de France came from, and Im sure it wasnt born out of competition. Ive a feeling its called the 'Tour' because it came from a lot of people who simply enjoyed cycling the countryside of France... because its a fucking beautiful thing to do.
Theres something lovely about taking a rusty, chickien-shit-caked old bike, pumping up the flat back tyre, and taking a left turn up the coast. Up the hill through swaying, rich green fields of wheat, canola and maise. Past an old norman watchtower sititng proud amidst the whispering green, ans then down to Pointe Du Hoc.
Ibe often heard the expression, 'devils playground' but until I dropped my bike in the grass, and wandered the cratered cliff-tops of Pointe Du Hoc, I never understood just what it could mean.
An invasion point, near 70 years ago, it rests now as a vast clifftop expanse of grass and gourse, with battlefirled remains amidst. It is easy to forget that the yawning wildflower scattered casms, covered in green, are the remnants of hellish moments of explosive extreme.
Its easy to forget that the rusty steel tangled concrete rubbish, scattered here and there, are monolithic blocks of man made fortification, shattered and tossed across the landscape with incomprehensible force.
And now, under the mild spring sun, in soft breeze and verdant green, the people chatter and children play. And all this landscape is all the more eery and bizzare, as it is scattered with wildflowers, soft green and smiling faces.
...
Back home for Apero,
Lunch and wine...
and the afternoon chatting and playing on the lawn.
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