I have attracted the personal attention of my very own TdF security guy – and not in a good way. At the end of every day’s race only people with bibs are allowed in the 100metres immediately after the finish line. I am making a film about the Garmin Chipotle team and one of their guys, Christian VandeVelde, is in 5th. When Christian gets to the finish line every day he’s surrounded by media folk and it’s my job to get in there and record what he has to say. If I don’t get that shot then most of my day has been wasted. So for the last two weeks, bib or no bib, I’ve managed to infiltrate this hallowed zone unnoticed and got right up close with CVV at the finish.
But the honeymoon period is over and a man with a pony-tail hair do that only a Frenchman could get away with has now identified me as an interloper: someone without the magic bib. For the last few days Mr. Pony Tail has made it his job to chuck me out whenever he sees me. Today’s ejection was delivered with a forceful push and extra bile and disdain. “You! Go away! Go very far away!”
