Ah, here we go

It's on page 87:

We're all familiar with the bits of glass, rubber and animals that line major thoroughfares, and I could have contributed a thoughtful foreword to Chrome Alone: The Lost Hubcaps of France, but it was intriguing to note the range of objects that motorists discard voluntarily. Why all these hundred-yard lengths of cassette tape?

'Gérard, we love Johnny Halliday, right?'
'Everyone loves Johnny. Go, Johnny!'
'Yeah. Go! But I was thinking - why is that?'
'Well, because he's a global pop-rock legend who just happens to be French, that's why.'
'Even though no one else in the world has heard of him.'
'Well, yeah.'
'And even though he looks like a chain-smoking old tramp in mascara.'
'Yeah. But you know: go, Johnny!'
'Right. I mean, I really love Johnny too, but the thing is, all of his music is just so utterly, utterly abysmal, that I was wondering if we could carry on doing the whole love bit while at the same time throwing all his tapes out of the window.'
'Fair enough. We'll do it when we stop to crap in the next lay-by.'

Amazon.co.uk: Books: French Revolutions: Cycling the Tour De France