Being the Tour de France of riders, journalists and boulangerie proprietors – I imagine a panic-stricken Prudhomme coming to race director must give Christian Prudhomme more than a few restless nights. In the small hours of a September morning – weeks before the following year’s route is announced to a clamouring crowd from a nightmare featuring the same old mountains and TT kilometres as the previous dozen editions. For a Tour de France to be heralded a success, a more eclectic set of stages is needed – France needs to be well and truly toured. As many stones as possible need to be turned. And for this year’s route, the race director had a bona fide eureka moment.
OK, I’m not suggesting that the race director woke up one day screaming ‘GRAVEL!’ at the top of his lungs – but for the purposes of this feature, let’s run with it – because as an explanation of one particular stage, it fits the parcours perfectly. Barely out of his pyjamas, then, and long before the boulangerie proprietors, half of the pro peloton and a cluster of journalists had the chance to enquire as
