WELL, THAT was something special. For a few hours yesterday, York forgot to be buttoned up and English. We let our hair down, got in the party mood, and took that most French of great sporting events - the Tour de France - to our hearts.

There were something like 100,000 people crammed into the city - 20,000 at the Knavesmire alone. But it was the city centre that got closest to the spectacle. As the peloton wound its way through the narrow streets, the tens of thousands of people lining the route were almost able to touch the cyclists.

At times the noise was extraordinary: the Minster bells pealing; a Lancaster bomber roaring past overhead; klaxons blaring; floats shaped like giant wine bottles blasting out pop music; and then, as the riders approached, a roar of approbation from the crowds.

Long afterwards, as the Tour swept out of town and the beauty of Yorkshire continued to entrance millions on TV, York carried on partying. People - tens of thousands of them - milled around, sipping lattés in the street, laughing, sharing favourite moments, the buzz refusing to die.

In King’s Square a troupe of performers were giving their own version of the ‘history of the Tour de France’ while, at the top of Shambles, a man dressed up as ‘The Moaning Lisa’ - with a tongue-in-cheek price-tag to match the da Vinci original - was delivering a gloomy monologue. “I can’t wait to see the bikes. I’ve been hanging around here for ages,” he said, long after the peloton had left town.

It was a magical day - even better, and somehow even more French, than we ever imagined. And with the stunning TV exposure Yorkshire has had - and the promise of a new annual bike race to come - it has been a weekend that will keep on giving.

Some were sceptical about the Yorkshire Grand Départ. But Gary Verity and his Welcome to Yorkshire team have been proved right.

It has been magnifique.