Today was the day that the Tour de France arrived in Bern. The streets being used had been closed off since yesterday, but we were unsure exactly when the cyclists would arrive, although we figured it would be late afternoon as it was the end of Stage 16. By pure good luck, the Tour route went immediately in front of Kuno’s house, so we had grandstand seats - what are the chances? We hung around the house most of the day Waiting for Godot.  (When I wrote the previous sentence, I was just using the phrase colloquially. However, I decided to Google the phrase to see exactly what it meant and found the following Wikipedia entry: "Unlike elsewhere in Beckett's work, no bicycle appears in this play, but Hugh Kenner in his essay "The Cartesian Centaur" reports that Beckett once, when asked about the meaning of Godot, mentioned "a veteran racing cyclist, bald, a 'stayer,' recurrent placeman in town-to-town and national championships, Christian name elusive, surname Godeau, pronounced, of course, no differently from Godot." Waiting for Godot is clearly not about track cycling, but it is said that Beckett himself did wait for French cyclist Roger Godeau (1920–2000; a professional cyclist from 1943 to 1961), outside the velodrome in Roubaix.” Strange, but true!

By mid-afternoon, Kuno and I had set ourselves up in the front windows on the 3rd floor of his house, waiting for the festivities to arrive, while his good friend Goudran had her 1st floor window open ready to join in, and my bicycle waited patiently at street level for the excitement to begin.

Long before the cyclists arrived, however, there was an endless parade of security, support and advertising vehicles. The advertising vehicles were numerous, each dispatching loads of goodies to the crowds along the streets. When there was a bank-up of traffic on the narrow cobblestone street, one of the vehicles for the St Michel cake company stopped in front of Goudran’s window, but continued to throw Madeleines at them through their open window. They have supplies of Madeleines to last for weeks.

After numerous false alerts, we heard the sound of the helicopters getting louder overhead and knew that the peloton must be approaching. Then after a few motorcycle escorts, the peloton arrived, and just as quickly disappeared! About 20 seconds of action for the main group, plus some stragglers over the next few minutes.

During all this, Rita was down at ground level, initially grabbing goodies thrown at her from the passing entourage, and then waiting for the cyclists. She got the footage below of them as they arrived, and described it as a powerful experience, feeling the rush of wind as they passed and sensing the exertion that the leading group were putting into the final few kilometres of the 209km stage.

While we thought it was exciting to see the peloton go past, it was even more exciting in nearby Wankdorf as the leaders sprinted to the finish line for one of the closest stage finishes in the history of the event.

Later in the evening, Rita and I went down to the Turkish cafe on the Aare to catch up with her good friend Regina, who has spent many holidays with us in Taggerty. Late that night, we walked back along the Aare and captured some of the night scenes along the way. A beautiful city, that has now been shared with the rest of the world via the Tour de France helicopter cameras.