Le Tour de Lance (Day 1)
Weather: 30 Degrees - It’s getting hot in herre…
CD: Die Aerzte - Wir Wollen Nur Deine Seele
I rolled into Karlsruhe Germany alone and didn’t have much in terms of a plan: Just jump on that Tour de France bandwagon and follow it as long as I could hold on. It was one hell of a ride.
Friday afternoon greeted me with threatening clouds as I stumbled off the train into the madness of the Tour. I wasn’t alone for more than 2 minutes before I struck up a quick Traveller’s Friendship with the girl who had been sitting behind me on the train. She was set in basically the same circumstances as I was (not to mention it was only her second time to travel to the West! For me it was my first! At least we could trust each other) and we set out towards the finish line. As fate would have it, she was a Lance fan - she was a good girl - and she was quickly wearing my orange Texas flag as a cape as we made our way through the endless carnivals that lined the streets for thousands of kilometers on end.
An open spot along the gates lining the streets was found and we squeezed our way into the ever-growing crowds. Anticipation was high in the air as the riders were giving it their all just to reach us. Crowds started gathering on the roofs, inciting the people to participate in the Wave. The Caravan rolled by with the parade of music and t-shirts and candy and cheerleaders. The Tour was nothing more than a nation-wide festival. How cool?!? And then another hour… and boom! Five seconds of action and it was done! The riders tunneled down and flew right by us. Words couldn’t describe the incredible pace they were travelling at, no more than a meter from our camp! It was such a rush and I was still feeling the fizzle as we watched Robby McEwen take the stage on the giant filmscreens set up around the city.
Katarina had to get back on her train to Erfurt, leaving me once again alone to dabble in the fun. I had time to find my sleeping accomadations (a piece of grass in the back of a campsite) and made my way to one of the countless festivals which seem the Tour seems to breed. Radio-Edit, quite possibly the cheesiest, lamest, worst-est band I have ever seen in my life (and I’ve seen some pretty lame things) lead the party and they weren’t afraid to dig deep in their bag of tricks. From Robbie Williams to Maroon 5, all the way back to Bon Jovi, they made sure the party would be rocking well into the night, which they reminded us they would be doing on several occassions. When gaggles of 30 year old pharmacists weren’t trying to rope me into their dancing circles, I mainly hung out on the frays trying to take it all in. The levels of drunkenness were incredible and there were nothing but smiles and laughter from everyone to go around (excpet for that one girl who always shows up with the beer-tears. Five minutes after her spout I saw her dancing on the tables once again). I ended up with some locals and Melanie and her sister saw to it that I made it to my campsite alright.