le Tour

I grew up with the Tour de France. My Dad was a keen cyclist, and summers were always spent watching men in lycra struggling up hills through the French countryside. Having recently fallen in love with cycling myself, I knew I had to take Mum to see the Tour, especially as it was coming through Essex. We set off early and got a great spot in Wethersfield a couple of hours before the race arrived. Time passed quickly with the ridiculous build-up of the caravan, ice creams and cheering at all the police motorcyclists.

There were two breakaway riders from the main peloton, which sped past at a 'relaxed' pace (still about 15mph faster than we go!). I can't quite believe we actually got to see the Tour de France! We were so close to the riders. It's such a shame Cav had to retire, as it would have been brilliant to see him. I wish Dad had been with us; he'd have been chatting away to all the other cyclists, swapping stories, I'm sure.