After consuming our magical French treats on the steps of the Louvre, we accidentally walked into the Tour de France. No joke, we just walked right into where they were setting up the very last leg of the race.
And since the only thing on our schedule was to catch our train to Loire in a few hours, we decided to stake out a spot by the fence and watch it! It was a long wait but sooo exciting to see the other supporters from all over the world...
...and I enjoyed my view of the French policemen immensely. So yeah, waiting for the Tour was a good time. Could these guys be anymore adorable?
And now they're looking right at eachother, laughing and talking to one another on their iPhones. Yup. They just got more adorable.
And then there was Mullet Man. (French pronunciation: moo-lay man) He was a truck driver of sorts and every time he passed by, I was completely captivated. This guy and his hair, they are not messing around.
So, you may be wondering at this point, WHERE ARE THE BICYCLES, SHANNON? But you also may have picked up on the hint of foreshadowing in this blog's title, too. Well done, you observant observing observer. Well done. The sad truth is, I saw no bikes, no race. We ran out of time and had to head to the train station. Tre tragic. But I will leave you with this darling picture of men playing cards in the Luxembourg gardens as a consolation prize.
And since the only thing on our schedule was to catch our train to Loire in a few hours, we decided to stake out a spot by the fence and watch it! It was a long wait but sooo exciting to see the other supporters from all over the world...
...and I enjoyed my view of the French policemen immensely. So yeah, waiting for the Tour was a good time. Could these guys be anymore adorable?
And now they're looking right at eachother, laughing and talking to one another on their iPhones. Yup. They just got more adorable.
And then there was Mullet Man. (French pronunciation: moo-lay man) He was a truck driver of sorts and every time he passed by, I was completely captivated. This guy and his hair, they are not messing around.
So, you may be wondering at this point, WHERE ARE THE BICYCLES, SHANNON? But you also may have picked up on the hint of foreshadowing in this blog's title, too. Well done, you observant observing observer. Well done. The sad truth is, I saw no bikes, no race. We ran out of time and had to head to the train station. Tre tragic. But I will leave you with this darling picture of men playing cards in the Luxembourg gardens as a consolation prize.
Just so you know, the correct spelling of the phrase "very tragic" in French is "Très tragique."
ReplyDeleteGlad to be of service. *cheeky smile*
You know, I kind of meant to go back and double check that. And then I didn't. Because I'm IN FRANCE and I'm too busy. Ha!
ReplyDelete