The second Sunday in March and Cape Town suffers a strange and phenomenal thing… The Argus Cycle Tour… What happens is a monumental cycle race that starts in the City Bowl, and countless thousand of athletes cycle down one side of the Cape Peninsula, practically past our front door and then when they reach Cape Point they take a turn and cycle all the way back up the Peninsula.
Most of our roads are closed and they fill with thousands and thousands of cyclists… I kid you not. Take a look…
Normally we cannot leave our seaside town and we stay home for the very best beach day of the year… but the father person really wanted to get out and found a sneaky little way that the traffic department had set up…
We were thrilled as we were able to see the endless cyclists first hand!!!
It is the most amazing thing to be a part of… All your senses are wound up in it: the frenzy of vibrant color whizzing past. The most amazing sound of the wheels turning – so many bicycles together sound like a large insect buzzing past. The whole route is surrounded by spectators and the roaring and cheering of the crowds is continuous. The smell, oh the smell of breakfast cooking, bacon and eggs and sausages!!! In true South African style every couple of meters along the route there are South Africans cooking breakfast on a skottle braai, which is a large frying pan on top of a gas cylinder. Many South Africans have these for braai’s on the road… and a braai would be a cookout or a barbecue for those who aren’t familiar with the term.
And one very happy camper that got to sit in the front seat because I was sitting in his seat to take the photographs… freezing my ear, gluing my eye to the camera and potentially losing my hairdo – that’s if I had one to start with, as I stretched out the window shooting photographs as we drove past. Amazing what a blogger will suffer for her readers!!! Don’t mind me I was rewarded with a latte for my efforts!!!
I think the whole tale is told as we headed home in the afternoon and every car we passed was laden with bicycles and tired cyclist feet up on dashboards… while stoic supporters drove their hero’s home.
And then there were busloads of exhausted cyclists that were shuttled back to the start as they wouldn’t make the cut-off… I feel for them at the back of the pack…
And finally you know it’s over when convoys of Coca cola trucks head back to the city center.
That’s it until next year… And my kids will be all inspired and cycling up and down the driveway for the next couple of weeks.