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REST FOR THE BRAVE

I'm fascinated by the origin of the human species.

It's so mysterious.

Where are we from,

why are we here, where are we going?

Why this journey?

There are no answers, of course.

But you can find a lot of serenity on earth.

Up in those incredible mountain landscapes,

there's a feeling of calm, of tranquility.

Humans are made to be active, after all.

Every year, in late June,

60 amateur cyclists bike the Alps from north to south.

The Mediterranean Sea, where they rest for a day,

is where their journey ends and the memories begin.

We did it!

Bravo!

Hi, Belgians!

Hey, Canada!

Where's the bag? I'm going to miss my train.

Humans have to adapt constantly.

It's back to real life now, with all its demands...

But that's life.

That's life.

Times passes so quickly.

I didn't fall in love with cycling overnight.

It happened very slowly.

It began with the joy of riding my bike at age six.

In fact, the day I learned to bike,

I woke up in the middle of night,

shouting: "I know how! I know how!"

My mother came in and shook me, saying:

"How to do what?"

"I know how, I tell you!"

Suddenly I yelled: "To bike!"

A tiny bike was cycling around in my head.

I think that at that age,

cycling represents a new stage of life.

It lets you cover great distances.

In a way, it's a kind of escape.

The next stage

was watching the Tour de France with my dad.

A 1960s Tour de France.

There were all the beautiful bikes,

the jerseys, the riders...

It was very compelling.

I started dreaming of bikes, jerseys, racing...

But you can't compete when you're eight.

So we'd race in the village.

That's how it starts.

That's when I really got the bug.

All set for the return trip?

Hope so.

Is it your first time?

Yup.

Have you cycled this route before? Even part of it?

Yes, I did it once...

But in three stretches.

- With Philip? - No, by myself!

Once I biked that leg of the trip.

It was two years ago.

We left from...

From where, again?

From Pau.

To Bayonne via St Jean Pied de Port.

170 kilometres.

When we left Pau, it was raining.

But we could still bike.

So we set off.

It's farm country.

- You never climb above 900 metres. - More like 1200 meters.

We're speeding along, then there's a dip.

Animals everywhere.

You can imagine the state of the road.

We looked like warriors.

Covered in mud.

Up to our foreheads.

Spraying up from the wheels.

We reached Bayonne in such a state!

We were a sight.

You smelled great.

You said it.

We were at St Jean Pied de Port.

We went to the town hall, or maybe the gym.

The guys went and got rescue blankets.

They were trembling like crazy, from cold.

When you're wet for long enough, you get cold.

I’ve never been so filthy on a bike ride.

- Excuse me, sir. - Hello!

Which route did you bike,

and how many kilometres was it?

We left from Thonon.

That’s by Lake Geneva, near Evian and Geneva.

And we cycled all the way here.

It’s what’s called the Route des Grandes Alpes.

With all the cols.

Maybe you recognise their names from the Tour de France.

The Izoard, the Galibier...

It’s about 700 kilometres.

But distance is less important than elevation.

The Classic I’ll never forget

is the Liège-Bastogne-Liège won by Bernard Hinault.

I think it was in 1980.

Cycling Liège-Bastogne-Liège

with the last 80 kms in the snow...

It's mind-boggling.

When you think they only had wool gloves.

They didn't have our modern, ultra-protective gloves.

Hinault ended the race with two frozen fingers.

Today he has two fingers that are numb.

To do that for 60 kilometres,

through pine trees, over tire tracks...

It's nuts, it's inconceivable.

At the end he was coughing, unable to speak.

For 60 kilometres, he'd been panting,

gulping down freezing cold air.

In that situation, you suffer from the cold.

Your muscles are paralysed.

It's unbelievably hard.

It's an almost superhuman feat.

Parcels, a 16th century doctor, said:

"The dose makes the poison."

It's the same in sport.

You shouldn't overdo it.

I'd have liked to do the Iseran,

but the weather conditions scared me.

When I was in the van, the thermometer read -1°.

And when I saw the gusting winds, the snow,

I thought, no one'll pass.

And then...

There they were!

They're tough. Real die-hards.

What'll he do when Bernard Thevenin catches up?

Thevenin's in the lead,

now followed by Felice Gimondi,

who's struggling as he comes out of this last climb.

Eddy Merckx’s behind, with Joop Zoetemelk in hot pursuit.

We didn't see that coming!

Thevenet has a 17 second lead,

now a 20 second lead on Felice Gimondi!

How'd that happen?

He just might win!

A 30 second advantage on Eddy Merckx and Joop Zoetemelk.

The riders aren't here yet.

What a moment in this Tour de France.

A real turning point.

Thevenet now has a 45 second lead on Eddy Merckx.

Still no sign of the world champion and yellow jersey

sided by Joop Zoetemelk.

There’s now a one minute gap between them.

Over a minute at the finish line.

Zoetemelk's coming up now.

He’s outpaced Eddy Merckx, victim of his own ferocity.

Hi Eric, it’s Francis.

I’m stuck at the Col de la Colombière

with a broken spoke in the rear wheel.

So the wheel can't turn.

I’m about...

three kilometres past Scionzier.

At kilometre 66.

Well, please call me back.

See you.

Eddy Merckx's behind,

victim of his ferocity.

He tired himself out back there,

on the descents and the Allos col.

Now he's paying for it.

Zootemelk's reaching the line now,

1 minute 10 seconds too late.

Eddy Merckx now pulls in...

Bernard Thevenet crossed the line

five seconds ago!

We’ll follow him to determine the gap.

What happened back there?

The cameras weren’t on Eddy Merckx

so we missed the moment

when he was overtaken.

Or maybe we were distracted.

Our apologies...

A bicycle has a soul.

It takes us places.

Good mechanics are a delight.

When the bike purrs along quietly, it’s a real delight.

A squeaky derailleur’s a nightmare.

It's like you’re not moving.

So it's important to look after the mechanics.

And I really enjoy doing it.

I find it relaxing.

Usually, you're alone in the workshop.

Sometimes you even talk to the machine.

And you listen to it.

You derail the chain.

You do a bunch of tests to make sure everything's ok.

And once that's all done,

once it's fine-tuned, oiled and greased,

you can't resist hopping on right away to see if it all works.

And when it's all working fine, it feels great.

You've created this fantastic tool.

And you're really proud.

I need to treat my ass.

A toilet paper bandage won't cut it.

The saddle sure does leave its mark.

Its red mark.

I've got a 3 centimetre burn.

Bad pair of bike shorts?

Not at all!

Cost me 200 euros.

They looked like quality, I was happy with them.

They're good on the thighs.

Good for circulation, there's practically no...

It's good for...

...muscle return.

But it's like an Assos in the saddle.

I don't get it.

I'll write to them when I get back.

I'll write a review on their website,

saying their cycling shorts burned me.

Maybe they'll give me a credit note.

They'll send you lube.

No, I have lube.

But that stuff... I don't think it works.

The best is to slather on burn cream.

Or that smelly stuff for diaper rash.

It's yellow. What's it called...

It stinks.

You rub it on thick. It's for irritated skin.

I bought a cream the other day.

The guy said to put it on my sores.

But I can't. Too scared it'll burn my ass!

I use Cetavlon and that's all.

Cetavlon, sure.

That's for babies.

The other one's for babies too. Yellow tube.

It's not used much. Smells too bad.

In fact, they make a neutral perfume with it.

You could be smelled in the peloton!

No matter what, you need a good saddle.

If you don't train for hours in the saddle, Daniel...

It's the only way.

See, I didn't suffer at all.

I hated being confined.

There were big factories in my region.

But just the thought of entering a factory...

I absolutely did not want to be confined.

I wanted to...

head off into the horizon.

That, I knew for sure.

So I became a truck driver.

Great job.

You're alone, you make your merry way.

You see other countries, other customs.

That's how I saw France, and then other countries.

Back then, no one took holidays. I'm 65, you know.

Farm communities didn't go on holiday.

I couldn't go home much.

But I made great friends.

It's too bad I've lost so many.

Lost track of them, I mean.

But it was a wonderful job.

We paid for it dearly, but we were free.

You had to love it, though. Being on the road.

Being 28 and driving a Volvo truck...

It was great.

The truck took me everywhere.

We were a team.

Then...

I slowly started cycling.

Everyone knew me and my bike.

My colleagues, guys from other transport companies...

Everyone knew me.

"Hey, roadie!"

I kept it behind.

I drove a tanker, so I couldn't put it inside the truck.

I had to tie it to the cab.

The thing is, biking's very time-consuming.

You have to have the right girlfriend for it.

Because it's not easy with some women!

Some people laugh and tell jokes while cycling.

I can't do that.

I've got my heart rate monitor.

I know what I can handle.

I'm not in incredible physical shape.

But I manage what I've got.

I know what I can and can't do.

I take my time.

When I train, I bike at a certain pace.

And I reproduce that same effort on my bike.

I stay very focused.

So I don't feel like hearing wisecracks or dumb jokes.

I like biking alone.

Because I don't like having a cadence imposed upon me.

No pedal rates, no uphill speeds.

I like going at my own pace.

There's the view, the scents...

There's everything around us.

And it's wonderful.

I love it.

I don't like going into unknown situations.

It's not my thing.

My classes were always well prepared.

I taught for 40 years.

Since I was 22 years old.

High school chemistry.

I always visualised my lessons.

I'd play them out.

Before the lesson, I already knew which students I'd quiz,

and what kind of questions they'd ask me.

Cycling's the same.

In life, everything must be prepared.

We're made for movement.

I have a lot of aches and pains,

but I manage them.

I want to keep cycling as long as I can.

I'll take care of myself and live as long as possible.

I'll learn as much as I can,

And be happy.

At first,

when I started cycling after retiring,

the highway called to me.

I swear.

I'd set off on my bike...

I know all the local roads.

I'd go all the way to Joigny

on a road parallel to the highway.

Sometimes I was far from the highway, sometimes on it.

I did it many times.

140 kms there and back.

I'd run into people I knew from transport companies.

It took me six months to a year

to wean myself off that highway.

That was my route, see?

One day I thought, it's time to stop.

Seriously!

That's all in the past now.

When you retire, everyone calls you at first.

My buddies going through Nemours would phone: "Hey, Gérard!"

I'd be at the café.

"I'm at the cutoff, let's grab a coffee."

Sometimes I took my grandson along.

But it doesn't last.

The calls stop.

So you move on.

You can't just sit there and feel miserable.

That's how I picture

the coming years.

I had colleagues...

Who knows where they are now,

they were from all over France.

They turned into couch potatoes.

That's asking for trouble.

Just asking for it.

Straightest route to aches and pains.

Better have a list of specialists to call because you're done for.

If you bike, nothing aches.

You know...

I do my quota in the winter.

1000 kilometres a month.

Nice and easy.

I won't stop biking.

Three times...

a week.

Then in March,

you slowly start to increase your distances.

I almost did 18 000 last year.

I was just a few kilometres short!

This year, if I stay healthy, I'll do 20 000.

10 more years.

In 10 years...

I'll have to slow down.

I'll be 75. It's a long way away.

It's around the corner and far away!

We'll see.

Time will tell.

I've written a song for Philippe.

It's to the tune of the Charlot song, "Merci Patron".

You all sing, "Thanks, Philippe".

I'll sing some verses

that I've memorised.

Ready?

- Yeah! - Let's go.

Thanks, Philippe!

Your bike's truly amazing

We're happy as can be

Thanks, Philippe!

We'll go anywhere with you

With you, the whole world is beautiful

That's the end, that's all I wrote

Happy is he who, like Ulysses

Has journeyed far and wide

Happy is he who, like Ulysses

Has seen hundreds of lands

And then returned again

After roaming near and far

To the land of his youth

On an early summer's morn

As the sun sings in your heart

How fine it is to be free

To be free

When here is the best place on earth

When a friend makes your day

How fine it is

To be free

To be free

In sun and wind

In rain and sun

We lived quite content

My horse, my Provence and me

My horse, my Provence and me

Happy is he who, like Ulysses

Has journeyed far and wide

Happy is he who, like Ulysses

Has seen hundreds of lands

And then returned again

After roaming near and far

To the land of his youth

On a sweet summer morn

As the sun sings in your heart

How fine it is to be free

To be free

When your troubles have ceased

When a friend dries your tears

How fine it is to be free

To be free

Subtitles: Anne Appathurai