My husband Brad is a sports stats man. He follows his favorites via the internet and can tell you how many RBIs Manny Ramirez of the Boston Red Sox has at any given time. He is also a European sports event connoisseur. He has dreams of attending all of the big European sporting events—the British Open, Wimbledon, the French Open etc.—while we are living abroad again. The man likes sports.
When Brad found out that the Tour de France was coming close to Geneva, there was no question: we were going to track down Le Tour. A simple google search provided us with the timetable and tour route. We selected a spot that was about a forty-five minute drive from us, stretched our driving muscles, and set out to view stage seven.
We were headed to Bonneville, France for a glimpse of the svelte racers. As we drove, we started to see signs for our exit—and that it would be closing for Le Tour at 13:30. We were in a race of our own! Brad hit the pedal and we covered some ground. We were feeling confident until traffic slowed and drivers filed their vehicles into neat little lines at a tollbooth.
Brad was corralled in one of the longest lines instead of being aggressive (and French) and zipping into a shorter one. Feeling the pressure of time, this annoyed me. Looking around, I realized that there are illuminated icons explaining the actions of each line: pay money to a human or throw the coins in the basket and keep moving. I knew we were in this slow boat line because we’re foreigners and nervous about the language at all transactions. Everything is a bit mysterious and it is super annoying to try to get out of a jam when your language skills are sub-par. But, still … there were icons! I understand icons! As we inched along, I turned to Brad and challenged, “What would Lance do?” The answer is easy: he would throw the coins in the basket and ride, baby, ride!
