Waiting for the Tour de France caravan is like waiting for the Three Kings. Long before the cyclists arrive, curious vehicles paid for by the race sponsors parade by, distributing all sorts of gifts on both sides of the road. When you're a child, it's a magical moment. Caps, water bottles, t-shirts, or candies fall from the cars. Then the cyclists arrive. They pass quickly. It doesn't last long. And it's worth it. Those of us who went to see stages in the south of France when we were little remember every detail of those adventures. Later, I returned with friends at a time when you'd take up positions on the mountainsides with sandwiches wrapped in foil and beers. It must have been 2001. The roads were full of Basques dressed in orange, as the Euskatel team was participating in the Tour. It was also worth it.