The art of picking your spot

The first time someone watches a pro bike race, most people ask the same thing, “Was that it?”

Their surprise is not unreasonable, given that they may well have waited a couple of hours to see the riders come past, only for the action to fly by in a matter of seconds – if that.

The truth is that professional cyclists can ride their bikes very quickly indeed and, unless you’re well positioned, the race can pass you by, before you’ve had chance to say, “Is that Darwin Atapuma in the breakaway again?”

Bring a packed lunch

You wouldn’t believe how little there is by way of food and drink vendors at the top of categorised climbs in a Grand Tour. Or maybe you would. Perhaps I’m a little naive, but I’d imagined that when a big race came to town some enterprising local would pop up to the top of their nearest col with a cool box full of cans of Coke, ham and cheese rolls and a few bags of kettle chips, ready to exploit the mass of spectators waiting to see the action. This is sometimes the case, but not always. And there’s no way of knowing beforehand either.

That’s why, when you’re watching a stage anywhere outside a main town, it’s advisable to bring your own grub. After all, the last thing you want when dressed in a monkey onesie and sitting on the top of the Angliru, Galibier or Zoncolan is a rumbling stomach.

Along with the obligatory baguette stuffed with cheese and cured meats, a bottle of water and a bit of fruit wouldn’t go amiss. Hell, take what you want. Stuff it in a backpack or musette and you’re ready to go. Just remember to take any rubbish back home with you – it’s bad enough with the pros dropping energy gel packets everywhere without you leaving your Mars bar wrappers behind.

Enjoy the show, don’t show yourself up

As the popularity of cycling rises, it’s noticeable there are more people watching on the roadside. As a result things are getting a little ‘crowded’.

When the Tour de France came to Britain in 2014, the popularity of the race was beyond all but the most optimistic estimates. People flocked to the roads to see their heroes and things got more than a little ‘gruppo compacto’, with hundreds straining to see the action and lining the not-very-wide roads of Yorkshire.

There have also been quite a few spectator incidents in Europe in the last few years, with Chris Froome reportedly being doused in urine unfortunately being the most memorable and most extreme. We’ve also seen over-exuberant spectators get in the way or even deliberately waylay riders, and one numpty who rode his bike into the path of the oncoming peloton.

As a spectator you’re there to appreciate what the riders do in real life. Not to try and get on TV or worse, getting in their way as you lean out into the road to get that ‘perfect’ shot with your smartphone. Show your support, by all means, but don’t get in the way.

Behold the caravan of crap!

What’s that, a free pair of novelty sunglasses courtesy of Italy’s largest supermarket chain? What about a garish red fedora with the words Vuelta a España daubed all over it? Maybe you’d prefer a polka-dot t-shirt that only comes in two sizes, impossibly small and ridiculously large? These are just a handful of the unending deluge of promotional items distributed to spectators during a Grand Tour.

The free tat is usually given out by a fleet of vehicles (called the ‘caravane’ in the Tour de France) which passes along the route of the day’s stage an hour or so in advance of the race itself – sometimes (and very justifiably) referred to as ‘the caravan of crap’. So sought after is this tat that you’ll seen grown men rolling around on the road to grab a souvenir.

The cars, trucks and vans are sponsored by big brands hoping to boost their profits by associating themselves with cycling – so expect to see plenty of Carrefour vehicles with eerily lifelike dioramas of livestock, fish, and fruit and veg stuck all over the back, and smart cars disguised as gigantic bottles of soft drink. On one occasion there was even a truck with a couple of semi-naked pole-dancers on the back advertising some kind of shower product.

The scale of the caravan – seemingly hundreds of vehicles – really has to be seen to be believed, particularly at the Tour de France, and is as much a part of the experience as the race itself.

Our advice is to pick up as much of this stuff as possible. You never know when you’ll need a plastic flag with the logo of a Belgian insurance company, a packet of McCain-branded seeds* or a Vittel fridge magnet.

*This was a real freebie actually distributed at the Tour de France 2014. No, honestly.