My Personal Tour de France: The Freedom to Ride

As a kid I remember watching the Tour de France on the television show ABC's Wide World of Sports, before any of us new the name Lance Armstrong. It was an event that captured the imagination of a 10 year old, and was the impetus for the incessant pleading for a 10 speed bicycle. I received that bicycle the following Christmas. It was a tan Centurion, a small racing seat and black handlebar tape. I remember barely reaching the toe clip pedals. For those of you who know my Dad, realize it was bought for me to "grow into". I couldn't wait for the Christmas holiday to end, so I could ride my new bike to school and show it off. For the next 6 months I rode my bike to school everyday. On 86th Avenue, between the stop light at Oakhurst road and the Circle 'K' was my own personal "L'alpe d'huez" to conquer. Looking back it was only a small hill, maybe a couple hundred yards long and rising maybe 30 to 40 feet, but for a 10 year old with an imagination it was the King of all mountains. I struggled up it every day, testing my gear shifting abilities. That tan bike was more than just transportation to and from school, it was freedom on two wheels. That bike opened up the world beyond 86th and 125th, it took me to Dino's Pizza, the arcade and across the Park Boulevard bridge to Redington Beach. That summer, the one between elementry and middle school, my friends and I planned our own tour. Myself, Doug S., Rick B., Jason S. and Chris B. set out to leave the neighborhood behind. We made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, put Kool-Aid in our water bottles and packed some Snicker candy bars for our epic ride across town. We had to climb that hill on 86th Avenue then pass the High School where we flew down "Cemetery" hill. We then ventured where none of us had gone before without our parents in a car...Tyrone Boulevards pass the Mall. We sat on the curb and ate our sandwiches and Snicker's bars. From there we headed to old Saint Petersburg and across the Central Avenue Bridge into Treasure Island. Ahh the beach, we pulled our weary bodies off the bikes for a quick dip in the Gulf of Mexico, then it was back on our bikes down Gulf Boulevard. It was there with a strong head wind, the group began to struggle. Rick, Doug and myself had 10 speed bikes with drop bars and gears, Jason and Chris were on small one speed BMX bikes. Chris was really struggling, as he was the "big" kid of the group, you know the stocky kid who plays catcher. It was here that we employed our learnings from watching the Tour de France. Rick was always the strongest of all of us, he took the lead breaking the wind for the rest of us. We put Chris in the middle to make sure we didn't leave him behind. So with Rick pulling, Chris safely tucked away in the middle and me and Doug following up the rear we made our way back to the neighborhood. It was with that trip our small world had expanded, and with that ten speed bike I had found a new freedom.

Le Tour de France: L'alpe d'Huez

One of the first thing we did upon arriving in Switzerland was plan a week long trip in France to follow the Tour and ride our bikes through the Alps, however at the last minute our trip was cancelled by the organizers with whom we had planned our travel. After failed attempts to rebook with other bike touring companies we decided we would go it alone. The Tour de France is the most famous bicycle race in the world, spanning 2,200 miles over 23 days. The TDF was started in 1903, like with so many great ideas, as a publicity stunt...to sell news papers. For both Amy and I to watch this epic bicycle race live was an opportunity of a life time. Being only a 3 hour drive from the most epic stage, of the most epic race in the world, we would be crazy not to go. So with all of the hotels fully booked and not really sure where L'alpe d'huez was (thank goodness for GPS) we set out for France with our tent and sleeping bags.

Finding a New Rhythm

Here in the Romande region of Switzerland, food and drink take on a significance greater than mere sustenance and hydration.  One quickly recognizes the differences in perspective between this region of Europe and the US. The most obvious difference is the emphasis or even obsession with quality over quantity. You won't find the "Cheese Cake Factory Trough" style portions nor the mega thick 56 oz steak. Instead you will enjoy modest portions of local perch from Lake Geneve, fresh seasonal vegetables and grass fed beef. As mentioned in my earlier post, local cheeses and artisan breads accompany  

just about every meal. Another significant difference is the dining experience. Patience is revered and meal time is to be taken leisurely, sit down style, with friends or colleagues.  Yes just like every where in the world you will find the 

ubiquitous "Gold Archers" of McDonald's and Starbucks, but they are the exception not the norm. You will rarely see people eating in their cars or walking around with a cup of Starbucks coffee. A "cafe" is to be taken in a cafe with friends (and often times a couple of cigarettes...that is another blog). Here there is a rhythm to dining-out. At first this "rhythm" seems very slow and often frustrating for those of us use to the North American style restaurant model, where to survive waiters have to turn as many tables as possible to make a living off of their tips. Here the leisurely tempo of the meal is expected  and the wait staff are paid a salary or livable wage that doesn't require them to hustle for tips. The first impression upon arrival is "wow the service here sucks, I have been waiting 15 minutes to pay my bill", but in reality it is just a different perspective. a waiter would never bring you your bill without being asked, as this would be perceived as very rude. A meal here, even in the most modest of restaurant, will take at least 90 minutes. The rhythm goes something like this: We start with an "appertif" (a drink) almost all lunches and dinner begin with a glass of beer or wine (the drinking age here is 16). This is followed by your "entree" or salad, then the main course with another drink, next the dessert, then the coffee. Interestingly, here you don't take your coffee with your dessert, I received a very strange look from my waiter the first time I asked for coffee with my dessert. As if he were saying "Puffffff... monsieur this is not the rhythm, please follow the rhythm".

What is it about this rhythm and why such reverence for food, drink and the meal time experience? If you excuse my broad generalizations and unsubstantiated opinions, I will hypothesize. The Swiss have a strong culture of agriculture, and being such a small country much of the population is in close proximity to the food they consume. Two fifths of Switzerland lies in the Alps where cultivation is not possible, therefore farm land, crops and vineyards can be found in, around and close proximity to population centers. Over 40% of Switzerland's land area is cropland. Although only 5.5% of the Swiss work force work in the agricultural industry, most of them either live, work or commute near a farm, a vineyard or some cropland.

This is unlike the US where our vast plains in the west and midwest produce the majority of crops and live stock. The closest I came to seeing my food produced is during cross country flights at 30,000 feet. I think it is the proximity to the food production, the ability to observe the rhythm of the harvests and the close ties to their culture of agriculture that give the people of this area the appreciation the wonderful food and drink of the land. After 6 months here, living and working amongst the fields and cows, I too have come to appreciate this rhythm.

(Above: A wheat field next to my office, across the road they are growing corn)