Graham, Mitch and Richard, I owe you an apology
A guide to booking hotels at the Tour de France, by Lionel Birnie
by Lionel Birnie
I owe Graham, Mitch and Richard an apology. Last night’s accommodation in Agen was, how can I put this, sub-optimal. To quote their message this morning, it was ‘a damp room above a derelict kebab shop shared with two other men and hundreds of mosquitoes’.
One star, if that.
I double-checked the booking, which promised a spacious gîte, but the photos the guys sent through definitely looked more disused kebab shop-y.
It was totally my fault but, in my defence, finding places for three people in the heart of rural France when the Tour is passing through can be tricky.
People often ask us about the logistics of following the Tour. For example, do we book our own hotels?
We certainly do, and it can be a challenge. The race organisation needs a huge number of rooms for the riders and team staff, officials, sponsors, police and the hundreds of people who actually put the race on. And, of course, ASO knows well before us where the race is going and can make all the reservations required, plus a few more for good measure, before they even announce the route. In some places, all the chain hotels and good quality independent places are snapped up months before the race.
In my experience, the worst time to try to book anything is in the immediate aftermath of the route being revealed to the public, because rooms are block-booked or held.
They tend to be released approaching Christmas and the sweet spot for booking is early in the New Year. (I really shouldn’t be sharing these trade secrets – it’ll only make it more competitive next year.)
This year, with a big loop through La France Profonde spanning the middle week, I knew there’d be some tricky nights.
There are a number of factors to consider when piecing together the accommodation list. The perfect place will be in the finish town, so the episode can be recorded without the pressure of a long drive to follow. Failing that, a place in the following day’s start town is preferable. Failing that, the post-stage drive should be no more than an hour or so. Having said that, staying in the finish or start towns can still be fraught. More than once we’ve arrived at our hotel to find it blocked off by the race barriers.
So there’s an intangible alchemy to finding the perfect place – and that’s before we even start to consider budget. The ideal question to ask when setting the criteria would be: would I stay here on holiday but, unfortunately we’re often a lot, lot further down the general classification than that. Clean, comfortable, convenient. That’s the three Cs.
(Last night’s place was at least handy for the start this morning, so one out of three isn’t bad. Right guys…? Guys?)
I tend to use one of the major booking websites because, in theory, it offers a degree of security and accountability. Not that it’s always perfect. Earlier this week, with less than 24 hours’ notice, we had a place cancel on us – despite having booked in April and having paid in full a week ago. ‘Désolé,’ they said. The alternative, booked at short notice, turned out to be okay – a medieval chateau which turned out to be highly Instagrammable.
The rise of Airbnb has given an additional option but has also introduced other obstacles. Some Airbnb hosts can be inflexible, setting check-in times that suit them rather than us. If you can check-in between five and quarter past, all well and good, but check-out times in the morning can be unfriendly too. One place two years ago wanted us out by 9am the next morning or else pay a penalty. There can also be ridiculous damage deposits and other rules that make it less desirable than staying in a hotel.
Last night, in Agen, was not ‘okay’. In my defence, it was the most difficult night of the Tour – there was nothing in Villeneuve-sur-Lot and nothing in Agen. I looked at the Logis de France website but there was nothing for miles around. I considered the alternatives – a 90-minute drive to Montauban followed by another hour in the car the next morning or perhaps a trek to Toulouse – and decided against it.
I booked a place in Agen to ensure there was something knowing it was at least the perfect location for this morning’s start. I’d meant to revisit it nearer the start of the Tour to see if there was anything better, but I forgot.
Graham, Mitch and Richard have taken it as well as can be expected. They sent photos of a place that made a 1980s student squat look like a five-star resort, and left a voicemail warning that the dinner budget for tonight may well be trebled unilaterally. Fair enough. Have a pint of wine on me.
I checked the bookings for the remainder of the Tour so that I could assure them they’ve endured the only ‘wild card’. Everything else looks perfectly acceptable and the final three nights in Nice should be a nice way to finish.
But I quite understand that a bad night’s sleep two weeks into the Tour can be a tough one to overcome. Having said all that, I am no stranger to some wild card nights myself.
Back in 2015, Richard Moore and I arrived at our accommodation in the less salubrious suburbs of Liège very late. It was a couple of days into the race, following the grand départ in Utrecht. We’d just covered the Mur de Huy stage when Fabian Cancellara suffered a high-speed crash and had to pull out of the race, had a late dinner and arrived in Liège around midnight.
We parked The Cycling Podcast’s Jaguar in a side street and both winced as we left it trusting it would still be there in the morning.
There was a piece of paper with a phone number scribbled on it taped to the apartment door. We rang it. No answer. We rang it again. Still no answer. We waited outside in the dark and were just contemplating how far the Jaguar’s seats would recline and how comfortable it would be to sleep in when someone picked up the phone and gave us a code for the door.
We let ourselves in, walked up the stairs and into our apartment – a one-roomed apartment. Not one bed-roomed. One-roomed.
There was a double bed, a little galley kitchen with one of those desktop mini cookers and, behind a curtain, a toilet and shower.
‘Where’s the rest of it?’ I asked Richard.
Richard, I noticed, was not hanging around. He already had his shoes off and was folding his trousers, looking for somewhere to put them. He got into the double bed, which was a bit on the small side and his feet hung over the edge.
At the foot of the double bed was a little child’s sized bed.
‘What am I supposed to do? Curl up at your feet like the family dog?’
By now Richard was already under the duvet, ready to turn out the light.
‘No barking, Lionel, I’d like to get a good night’s sleep.’
In September 2020, the lockdown Tour, we booked what we thought would be a delightful rest day hideaway a stone’s throw from the lake at Aix-les-Bains. The hotel had seen better days, but it was generally fine. My first mistake was to leave the shutters open all afternoon, meaning my room bore the brunt of the late afternoon, late summer sun.
When I opened the door to my room after dinner it was like stepping into a furnace. It felt like the cumulative heat of an entire French summer had been concentrated on this little space. I threw the windows open and left the curtains undrawn.
All night, I was a living buffet for a swarm of mosquitoes, which only added to the burning sensation. Twice I got up to have a cold shower to ease the hot itching on my legs and feet.
At breakfast, we had to join a slow queue, waiting to be served a socially-distanced breakfast by Monsieur. My arms and legs looked like I was wearing a full-body polka-dot skinsuit. It was the worst look since Pierre Rolland’s king of the mountains jersey, shorts and gloves combo a few years ago.
Monsieur plonked a croissant, slice of damp ham and piece of cheese on my plate. He clocked my bites as I scratched one leg against the other and nodded sympathetically, as if to say: ‘Ah, yes, all the mosquitoes live in your room.’
And there was a boiling hot night a few years back when we reached the middle of nowhere and were met with a hotelier who was surprised that three adult men had arrived – Richard Moore and I were with our friend and colleague Tom Cary from the Telegraph. Monsieur, clearly expecting a couple and young child, had allocated our party the ‘family room’ which consisted of a double bed with a little single bunk above it.
Richard took the double, (of course), Tom squeezed into the bunk and I was given a fold-up bed Monsieur found in a store cupboard. It kept collapsing on me so I was lying in an awkward V-shape so eventually I gave up and moved the mattress onto the tiny balcony and slept there.
So, once again, I apologise to Graham, Mitch and Richard but the Tour is the Tour and – sometimes – sleeping in a derelict kebab shop with two strangers is just part of the job…
Stacy Snyder’s cups will go on sale on Tuesday
After a mechanical problem with the first batch of cups, Stacy Snyder has remade the Tour de France mugs and cappuccino cups and they will go on sale from her Etsy site on Tuesday. We’ll confirm the details in Monday’s edition of The 11.01 Cappuccino.
Toast the Tour with DVine Cellars
There’s still time to get the case of wines Greg Andrews and the team at DVine Cellars have put together to match the route of the Tour.
The DVine Cellars 2024 Tour case
• Domaine Dupraz En Route Pour l'Apero Jacquère, Savoie, France
or Domaine Bruno Lupin Roussette Frangy, Savoie, France
• Domaine Corsin, Macon-Villages, Burgundy, France
• Domaine du Salvard, Cheverny Rouge, Gamay & Pinot, Loire Valley, France
• Chateau Paillas 2016 Cahors, France
• Bergerie de L'Hortus Blanc Pic St Loup,  Languedoc, France
• Chateau de L'Escarelle, Les Deux Anges, Provence, France
Join us for a ride in Richard’s memory
Richard Moore’s dad Brian, and Richard’s two brothers Robin and Peter, would like our listeners – and especially Friends of The Cycling Podcast – to join them at West Lothian cycle circuit in Linlithgow, Scotland, on Saturday, July 20, when Mark Beaumont will unveil a plaque, created by Stacy Snyder, in Richard’s memory.
Bring a bike and join us on a few laps of the circuit, wear your Cycling Podcast jersey or casquette, if you have one. If you can’t bring a bike but just want to say hello and have a cup of tea, refreshments will be available. Brian has even promised the sun will be shining!
Saturday, July 20
West Lothian Cycle Circuit
McGinley Way, Linlithgow EH49 6SQ
Circuit open: 10.00 to 13.00
The plaque will be unveiled at 11.00.
The Cycling Podcast is supported by MAAP
A big thank you to MAAP for supporting The Cycling Podcast. Check out the full range of clothing to make you look the part on, and off, the bike at maap.cc
I listened to Mitch's voice note and last night's episode before heading over to read this. Still chuckling.. thanks for the laughs
"No barking, Lionel, I’d like to get a good night’s sleep." God I miss Richard's one liners. Tears here