There’s a green banner strewn across the front of the Joan of Arc school in Bayeux. It was printed specially for Thursday morning – the day the Tour de France came to town – and shows an old yearbook photo of a cropped-haired teenager. Alongside, there’s a stock picture of a cyclist, and a French tricolour, both apt symbols for the occasion. “Allez Kévin,” the banner reads. “Our former pupil.”
The barriers in front of the school trace 100m up to a car park, where the team paddock has assembled. In the middle, Arkéa-B&B Hotels’ bus is lively with reporters – a rare occurrence for the Tour’s French minnows. The press haven’t come to speak to the riders, though, nor the team bosses, but rather the family of Kévin Vauquelin, the local sweetheart, whose home is just a few pedal strokes from stage six’s départ.
Kévin’s mother, Valérie, appears at ease with the microphones. She speaks to the reporters as if they’re old family friends, holding eye contact, and keeping the conversation going well after the cameras have stopped rolling. Kévin’s father, Bruno, stands beside his wife in a black gilet, adorned with his son’s squad photo on the back. “I hope every parent gets to experience what we’re experiencing,” he says, a wobble in his voice. “He came second at the Tour de Suisse, now he’s first in the hearts of the French.”
Stage five’s time trial, held the previous afternoon, had only intensified the fever around the home hope. Fifth on the day, the 24-year-old’s time across the line was not enough to save his white jersey, but it catapulted him to third in the general classification, behind Remco Evenepoel and Tadej Pogačar. The wall of noise that welcomed him in Caen after his effort was so loud, passersby might've thought he'd won the stage. TV cameras flocked around him as he collapsed over his handlebars.
“It was incredible. I couldn’t feel my legs. All the fans, all the support...” Vauquelin began, still catching his breath. “I’m in heaven. Thank you so much for all these emotions. I don’t have any words.”
The French have long built impassioned ties with their own riders. It's been 40 years since a home rider last won the Tour de France – Bernard Hinault’s fifth success – but that fact has mattered little to the fans. The French, at their core, are dreamers, their passion deepened by stories of heartache and nearly-men. It’s why they adored riders like Laurent Fignon, 1989’s runner-up by eight seconds, Romain Bardet, who scaled well but never reached the top step, and Thibaut Pinot, the sentimentalist whose emotions were felt by the public.
Now, Vauquelin’s in the spotlight. “It’s just incredible to be here,” he tells reporters in Bayeux. Behind him, a group of fans shout his first name over and over. “All these people, it’s mad,” he says. “It’s come together in a way I could never have imagined.”
After winning a Tour stage last year, Vauquelin’s career has kicked on rapidly; he won the five-day Étoile de Bessèges, the four-day Région Pays de la Loire Tour, finished second at La Flèche Wallonne to Pogačar, and placed runner-up at the Tour de Suisse, too.
He's aware that his profile has boomed in France – how could he miss it? – but the popularity doesn’t faze him. All the clamour means “the hard work’s paying off,” he smiles. “I’m trying to make the most of it all and use it to push me to my limits.”
Although he now sits just shy of a podium place, it’s unlikely Vauquelin will target the yellow jersey this year. His team, Arkéa, has among the smallest budgets on the WorldTour, threatened too with closure, and the Frenchman has never ridden for GC over three weeks. Besides, he never came to challenge the superstars; he just hoped to stir up the first week and enjoy racing at home – two things he has already achieved.
There's still another box to tick, however: “I mainly want to try and win a stage.”
If he does, like he did last year in Bologna, the French public will erupt. Vauquelin's name will be heard outside of the sport, his family will welcome more media than ever, and his face, still with the cropped hair of his school days, will decorate newsstands across the country.
The boy from Bayeux, the humble Norman town known for its tapestry, is threading his story into France's cycling cloth. He's already conquered hearts, now he's after more Tour success. “I’m enjoying every moment,” he says. “Whatever happens, I’ll have a smile on my face.”
