It was eight years ago, the summer of 2003, that I attended my first Tour de France. I only got to see the riders pass by me for an instant, on the stage from Pau to Bayonne, but it was great. I remember flying into Toulouse and driving to Pau, the start village.
I stayed in a Formule 1 hotel, the kind where you meet no one but a computer keypad at the door and the shared showers clean themselves.
Earlier this year, I was asked by an ESPN the Magazine editor to write a short story about where one could plant himself, down to a specific meter, if possible, for the best view of the Tour. Here’s what I came up with, with help from Tour de France expert John Wilcockson.
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