Le Grand Depart

As I look out today it is gloomy, and when I ventured outside there is also a damp cold in the air. The days are short and the post Christmas gloom is beginning to settle in. So it seems only natural to look back to those halcyon days in June when Yorkshire became the sixth overseas Department of France and hosted Le Grand Depart. Now I am cynical about such things however the good feeling that this brought to our region was immeasurable.

To those who do not know the Tour De France is the biggest spectator event in the world, 20 teams of nine riders race for three weeks around France, over cobbles, over fearsome climbs, through towns and villages cumulating in a finish on the Champs Elysees in Paris. The start or Depart is often though in a neighbouring country. This year a brilliant campaign by Welcome to Yorkshire secured the start for only the third rime in England during the first weekend in July. It was just stunning.

So often the marketing blurb for these events talks about community participation and a lasting legacy, this time it was really true. The whole of the county was bedecked with decorated bicycles, houses were painted in the colours of the leaders jerseys, hill passes were given French names, and in one town all the pubs changed their name to their French equivalents, the White Horse becoming Le Cheval Blanc etc…… And all that was in the weeks leading up to the big event.

Millions turned up for the actual racing. Relatively remote roads were thronged with people even though they had had to walk in, roads being closed to traffic up to 48 hours in advance. From the overhead TV shots it was impossible to tell where the riders were, amongst the spectators.

On a personal front we had a great couple of days. On the Saturday we based ourselves at Brymor Ice-cream near Masham in the Yorkshire Dales. As an aside this is a result of a farm with surplus milk production diversifying into other products. Their Black Sheep Ice Cream (real ale enthusiasts will know the reference) is superb. Well it just happens that the farms is right on the race route, and had a large car park. So with our friends Barbara and Iain we arrived at the farm at 8am, and fortified by bacon sandwiches settled down in a field next to the road. What was a rainy day was transformed as the sun shone. And eventually on a remote country road we were joined by three or four hundred spectators all picnicking and generally having a good time. As the tour caravan, support cars, and enough motorcyclists to protect all the European heads of state in one go processed past, the excitement grew. Then the helicopters were spotted over the road and the cyclists rushed through at 30 plus miles and hour, all over in sixty seconds. A great day.

 

On the Sunday I worked as a volunteer steward near Bolton Abbey. It was a privilege to hear the tales of those who came to watch and see the sheer enthusiasm of the crowd. It was a feel good event par excellence. The crescendo of noise when the race careered down the hill to roundabout ate the bottom. It seemed to me a miracle that the close packed group of riders safely negotiated the roundabout at breakneck speed, and then it was over……

The legacy has persisted though, there is more cycling in Yorkshire, a new race around the county has been promoted in 2015, the great countryside and towns of God’s own country were promoted round the world. Hopefully this will bear fruit in increased visitor number in future years. An all round success!!!!! For once the actual event was greater than the hype.