I’m a middle-aged woman who should know better, but am squeaking with excitement like a kid in charge of portion control in an ice cream van. I can guarantee that the early night I was hoping to have so I can get up at stupid o’clock will go right out of the window because I’m cramming my eyes and ears with all things Tour de France related. The TV, radio and computers and blasting cycling stories and even the cat has donned a yellow jersey. For tomorrow, tomorrow will be my once-in-a-lifetime chance to be part of the biggest sporting event in the world, probably the universe and it’s happening on my doorstep here in Yorkshire. Say Hello to Anne the Tourmaker.
It’s a matter of great pride to me as a Tyke, that Yuggles, that’s non-Yorkshire folk, are flocking to God’s Chosen County from all corners of the world, with even a few from over the Pennines, but we don’t talk about them, to see this greatest of cycle races.
Not that I’m particularly a cyclist or even great fan of cycling, but to have the eyes of the world on my city, my county, well, I’m bursting with pride.
We took a ride out to Holme Moss last night to look at the highest climb in this Yorkshire stage of the Tour. Not a mountain by alpine standards, but a heck of a hike up a narrow, windy road. Most of the route through Huddersfield was festooned with bunting and cluttered with yellow bikes. Excitement was in the air and the local brewery’s Maillot Jaune pale ale was being knocked back at an impressive pace.
In just a few hours, I’ll be putting on a Tourmaker outfit that was definitely made for someone a different size and shape from me, packing my sandwiches and heading out to be part of this incredible spectacle. It’s not going to happen here again in my lifetime, so I’m going to make the most of every single minute!