P.S. from the Étoile...

As ever when I have just returned from my travels, I find that the story hasn’t quite run its course. Luc has been in touch.

Do you remember Luc? He was one of two Lucs I met on the evening of the great debacle of stage 3, when half the race abandoned in Bessèges itself. There were two Lucs and two Karins that night, with whom I ate stoofvlees met fritjes.

Luc and Karin Sterckx-Dillen were my hosts in their Chambres d’hôtes near Bessèges, Au Grand Bonheur. It was this Luc who had prepared the rich beef stew the day before, and, having spent the afternoon with the other Luc watching the race, had been busy in the kitchen preparing a mushroom soup (delicious), homemade mayonnaise and the chicory salad that accompanied the stew and the chips.

The following morning, as the rain continued to batter down outside, and having scoured the house for every available piece of wet weather gear he could find, Luc the Host headed out with trepidation and limited French to volunteer at the race on day two of the deluge. He left with the words, ‘it’s important to help. They need everyone today’, while also practising his French phrase ‘demi-tour’.

The other Luc and the other Karin were friends of Luc and Karin the Hosts. Also from Antwerp, they too had settled in the Cévennes, where they had met the other couple at some event of other and become firm friends. When I arrived at the house, I found both couples and a little dog called Bella, all glued to Belgian cable TV to catch the sports report of the day, and watch the highlights of Arnaud de Lie’s convincing win.

Luc Baert (and Karin, whose second name I never got to know) were both retired air stewards from the defunct Belgian national airline Sabena, whose very mention evoked enormous nostalgia around our cosy dinner table. It was a word that seemed to have been summoned from a lost past. It went bust 24 years ago.

Anyway, Luc the Airhost (as opposed to Luc the Host) had a new hobby, which he was more than happy to share. He has become a very keen photographer and had taken his camera out onto the sodden roads of stage 3 of the Étoile. As I took my leave of them, I asked Luc the Airhost if he would share some of the pictures with me, and whether or not he was happy for me to publish them. He agreed readily to both suggestions, and we exchanged details.

Then I didn’t hear any more from him, and moved on. But a short while ago, he emailed me a folder with a collection of his photos. He sent me the following message in the middle of which his keyboard must have gone mad.

“Dear Ned, As I promised, I send you some of the pictures I took during stage 3 of the Etoile de Bessèges. I hope you will znjoy tzh pictures. Sincerely yours, Luc Baert.”

Together they tell a strong story, and they took me straight back to that bizarre day not even a week ago when the race fell apart. So, thank you, Luc the Airhost. Here they are: