Tour of Britain, Stage 8, London

 Ah, Sunday morning in merry old London, town of my birth and most of my upbringing. Final day of the Tour of Britain - ITT in the morning, Crit of 8 laps in the afternoon.

And I was a Schlecklander On A Mission. To get a musette.

Remember my Tweet conversation with Ken Sommer?

I'd asked him about the best way to get one, and he'd kindly replied that all I had to do was ask one of the soigneurs.

Sadly, he didn't seem to "get" my joke about standing 15% beyond the feed station, which is a reference to the insanely complicated time-out rules, which dictate how long riders have to finish a stage after the leader gets home.

It all depends on the average speed of the race, you see, and the commentators are always completely unable to explain it clearly.

Well, I thought it was funny....

Anyway: right, that was easy enough - find the Leopard bus, find a soigneur, ask. I can do that.

The tube was pretty much empty that early on a Sunday, but I was still glad that I'd decided that my big flag was just too big, and had only taken my little flag.

And even that got some strange looks!

But it was well worth it... as you will see shortly.

We arrived at about 10am and walked down towards the Embankment. Ooh, look, there's the Leopard truck, down a side street. Shall I go and ask for a musette? No - it's far too early, they'll be just unpacking everything and getting warmed up, they won't want to be bothered by fans. I'll go later.

There weren't exactly huge crowds, but most of the barriers were already up, and there was quite a lot of bustle and activity around the route.  There were dozens of very friendly road marshalls, who were quite happy to hold the barriers aside and allow us to cross the roads, as long as there weren't any cars or cyclists coming.

Cyclists?

Er - isn't that Mark Cavendish?

Yes, it was Cav, just wheeling along gently. Somewhat awkwardly, we managed not to say "Wotcher, Markie" but just watched him go past.

Then a couple of Sky boys went past. Er - wasn't that Alex Dowsett? And G?

Whuuuuuum... time trial bikes. Wow, they really do make that funny noise. All around us were the riders, warming up, checking out the course, or just wheeling around lazily. Amazing.

We turned left towards the start/finish area.

Oh look, there's the Leopard Trek bus again. Shall I go and ask for a musette? Nah, it's far too early, they'll be in the middle of preparations and all nervous and busy.. I'll go later. But I'll just take a photo of the team cars, to prove that I was really here.

There you go, photos of Leopard cars, really in London.  Ooh, look, there's the truck, and the bus: and one of the mechanics ("Frank", according to the L-T website) looking very teutonic and forbidding. No, I won't ask for a musette just yet.

We strolled casually - oh! so casually! - a little nearer to the bus: darn, all the windows are blacked out. And as you can see, there are several pushy bolder-than-me fans taking photos through the door. I suppose they might have been journalists....

And here is the warming-up area, under the pull-out awning of the truck. The bikes were all lined up, on rollers, ready for use. Each with a natty little blue towel draped over the front wheel, ready for use. Take a note of the fangirl with the red hair - every single time I went anywhere near the bus, she was there! Must have been a fan. Was this you? If so, do say so!

After a while, musette-less, we wandered up to the start, admired the ramp, then wandered through the back streets towards the route for a while, looking for a good place to stand.

Oh - is that Cav again, wheeling gently past us? Er - what do we do? Look awkward and keep walking. Right.

The sun was shining, and it was jolly hot (a little unusual for the UK in mid September) so we found a good shady place, with yards and yards of barriers but no spectators. Ha! we thought, this will do!

Sound of bicycle wheels behind us - blimey, it's Cav again. Is he following us? Still too embarrassed to say anything, we avert our eyes and walk up to the barrier.

It was still just a bit before 11, so we stood and chatted (for which read, we stood and giggled like a pair of six-year-olds, and I practised waving my flag and not hitting LLB in the face with it) and watched the passers-by, trying to work out how many of them were in London for the cycling. Not a lot, we decided! A pair of girlies walked past us about three times, and I swear they were looking at my Lux socks. Could they be Andy fans? Could they be shy Schlecklanders? If that was you, do say so! (And why didn't you say hello?!) 

Oh, of course: imagine going up to a complete stranger in the middle of London, thinking it might be me: how on earth do you start the conversation?

"Err, hello."
Me: "Hallo"
"Err, are you here for the cycling?"
Me: (Face clearly says: I am hanging over the barrier, waving a Leopard flag, what do you think I'm here for?) "Oh, yes."
"Err, 'scuse me for asking, I notice you have a Leopard flag, errm, you wouldn't be Cougar Girl, would you?"
Me: (only of course it's not me, it's a complete stranger) "What are you talking about? Do I look like a cougar? How dare you insult me..." etc etc.

The actual conversation is more likely to be:

"Err, hello"
Me: (the real me, this time) "Oh, hallo!" (interested tone of voice) "Are you here to watch the cycling, too?"
"Umm, well, yes."
Me: "Exciting, isn't it? Even though nothing has actually happened yet. But they're due to start in a couple of minutes, and we're hoping to have a good view of them here. Have you seen a Time Trial before?"
"Err, no, but me and my friend Elsa (indicates other girlie, standing silently with crimson face) have come up for the day to see the Leopard Trek boys."
Me: "Well, (laughs) you can see that I'm a Leopard fan, too."
"umm, yes, I, umm, noticed your socks. Are they the Luxembourg socks?"

Oh dear, I can't go on, it would take forever! I suppose the best way would be to just shout "COUG!" loudly and see if I jumped. Oh, no, that wouldn't work, as everyone for yards around would turn round and look. OK, audience participation time: how do you meet up with other fans if you don't know what they look like? I'd be interested to hear....

Back to the event - after the "sock" incident, it was around this time that someone was making a video of the event, and well done to Karalara for spotting it!

Here it is:  Tour of Britain 2011 from Sylvain Cruiziat. It's not a very good video, it doesn't play particularly smoothly, so here's the frame at 1:14 in - yes, that's The Coug. In case you can't make head nor tail out of it, I have the flag over my shoulder and I'm looking away, to the left. There you go, fame at last.

On the previous evening, we'd taken the trouble to print off a start list, so we knew what order they'd be in, and what time to expect them, and this proved to be great fun - we were able to shout "Go, Name-of-rider, Go!" at each one, which impressed everyone who passed near to us.

"How do they know the names of all the cyclists?"
"I don't know, dear, perhaps they are part of the cycle race?"
"I don't think so, but they seem to know every single rider, by name!"
"Well, they have a flag that I've never seen before..."

In fact, one spectator came up to us and asked where we'd bought the start-list from! Memo to self: next time, print off a dozen copies and sell them for a fiver each....

We'd inadvertently picked a good spot, it was round the first corner of the course, so they were all on time, and were just picking up speed. Also, for some reason, they were coming very, very close to us. So close that I didn't dare wave my flag over the barrier, but had to pull it in each time, just before the rider whooshed past.

This was why:

See that grating? They were aiming to miss the grating by going between it and the barriers.

Yes, they were THAT close!

We stood and cheered for every single rider, quite indiscriminately, which was great fun. They were appearing at one-minute intervals, which gave us just time to check who they would be, have a brief discussion of what we knew about them, and decide what we would shout. Depending on nationality.

"Vite, Mathieu!"
"Go, Ronan!"
"Go, Swifty!" (with extra big cheers and yays, as he's a Sky boy)
"Hup, Preben!"
and, a little later,
"Go, Mr Brogdonas!"   - a touch formal, but we couldn't pronounce his first name.

After a while, in the gap between riders,  we were just changing our position slightly when we nearly walked into a cyclist on his TT bike, skinsuit, aero helmet, the lot, just wheeling slowly around in the street. "Whoops!" we said, leaning back out of the way. "Who's that?" said LLB. "Dunno," I replied "his number is 81." We scanned our start list. Oh. That was Thor Hushovd, that was. Yes, we nearly knocked Thor Hushovd off his bike. 

I cannot say too often - when you go to races, you get really, really close to the riders!

I did take some videos of the riders passing, but honestly, they're not very good. First you are blinded by the headlights of the motorcycle, then you get a head-on view of a TT helmet approaching, then whoosh! They are past and gone.

After Linus - highest ranked Leopard - had whizzed past, LLB twisted my arm and made me walk back to the Leopard bus, in search of a musette.

By now, they were mostly back at the bus, cooling off. As Mr Orange Head was there, I felt obliged for the sake of Leelu to take a photo of him. Here you are, Leelu: I've put them in full size so you can crop them if you wish (actually, they're not that good, but at least they are new!)

"Mum? Mum? Can you hear me? I'm in London. LONDON. Look, I'll call you back..."

And yes, you really are allowed to stand that close to them. I've read other reports on Bananas About Bikes where fangirls mention that they stood and watched them warming up or cooling down, and it's absolutely true, they take no notice of the spectators at all, they just get on with their routine. It's lovely!

 So professional, and so casual at the same time.

The Sky bus was very different, sadly: it was parked a bit further down the same street, along with several others, and they'd made a sort of enclosure of trucks so that you could only get in by invitation.

Leopard was much more open - they were opposite NetApp, one of the much, much smaller teams, who had a white transit van and a tiny little camper van, which did look just a bit sad, compared to the gleaming elegance of the Leopard entourage.

But I have to say, the NetApp team were much more approachable, and we saw several family groups walking around covered in NetApp hats, musettes, etc, so they were obviously keen to pass out the giveaways.

Shall I ask for a musette? No, I can't see a single soigneur. There's no-one around except the riders, and I certainly can't ask them. Oh well, some other time.

But then I saw a team member locking up one of the team cars, so I asked him, and guess what, he found me a musette! How kind! At first he said no - the kitchen is closed. But as I thanked him anyway and started to walk away, he took pity on me, and went into the truck to find one for me, which was very kind. LLB said afterwards that while I'd been taking photos of Dominic, he'd been looking at my Leopard flag, so perhaps he realised that I was a "fan" and not just a casual scrounger? Anyway, I got my musette, and wore it for the rest of the day.

Success!

And so to the afternoon: we ate our packed lunch on the Embankment, and walked most of the route, looking for good places to stand. There was plenty of room, and whole stretches of the route had no spectators at all. Even in the middle of London, at a weekend. I'm afraid cycling really is a minority sport in the UK. Possibly the Olympics will be different, but for us, it was very low-stress. We settled on a nice bench just past Waterloo Bridge, one of the many set up on plinths so you get a good view of the river, and which meant we could stand on the back of it and get a good view of the race.

That is the worst bit about spectating, I think: you find yourself a good position, and two minutes before the race passes, some swine steps in front of you and blocks your view.

Oh and of course, if you are spectating, you have no idea who won! Unless you are at the finish line and can see the big screens, I guess. But who cares!

Promptly on time, the race started, and if you've seen any of the coverage, you'll know that there was a break of two riders who stayed out nearly all the way. We waved and shouted encouragement as they went up the road on the other side.... then six minutes later came back down the road, on our side... then three minutes later went back up the road on the other side.... then six minutes later came back down on our side... and so on.

Crits are great! I hate to think how dull they must be for the riders, but for spectators - great! Lots of chances to try taking video - again, I took a couple but won't bore you with them, they're not very good, but as Miss Fede said, they do capture the excitement of the moment, and they bring it all back when you re-watch them later.

The police motorbikes were obviously getting a bit bored with riding sedately up and down the same route, they started playing games with the spectators, getting them to put out their hands to be "low five'd" as the bike passed. This worked very well most of the time, until the circuit where a female spectator on our side leant well out, determined to make contact, and received a solid policeman's leather glove at 20mph which span her round like a top and left her clutching her wrist and shouting "Ow!"  Hilarious!

Of course, there was the Alex Dowsett Incident, as reported separately, when a Sky rider lobbed a bidon out into the crowd and accidentally hit a spectator right on the forehead. Splat!  Of course, that was one circuit when neither LLB or I were filming it. Drat!

Then a couple of circuits later, another bidon came out of the peloton as they passed opposite, and this one landed right at my feet. "I don't want it," I said, smugly, "I already have one!" Yes, the kind man at Leopard Trek had put a bidon into the musette which he gave me. So I graciously allowed the spectator next to me to pick it up. 

In England, by the way, there's none of that fighting or scrabbling for bidons that you see in the Tour: the chap looked at it, looked at me - I said "No really, you can have it." and he said "Really?" so I replied "Please - help yourself, I already have one!" so he leant down and picked it up, offered it to me saying "Are you sure?" I smiled. "Really. You have it." "Thanks!" he said. See how nice and polite we are in England.

By the last couple of circuits it was raining, so we were getting a bit wet, and pretty cold, but we kept waving and shouting, right to the end.

Talking of waving, I waved my flag at the Leopard team car every single time it went past, and do you know what? The occupants didn't wave back, not once. Meanies. Possibly they were concentrating on the race, possibly. Maybe they were preoccupied with their uncertain future. But it's a bit mean to ignore the single, one and only Leopard flag in the WHOLE of London!

Anyway, the race continued, and was pretty much the same except for the last lap, when suddenly it all fell to pieces, and riders were dropped off the back in huge numbers. We shouted encouragement for the bunch, for the followers, for the team cars - one last attempt to get a smile out of the Leopard car, no luck - then for the stragglers, then for some more stragglers, then a couple more....

Oh, and in answer to the question of "do the riders hear what's being said" one of the Europcar riders was limping in all alone, and I shouted something like "Come on, keep going, nearly there!" and he gave me an absolutely filthy look! Of course, it could have been the fact that I was waving a flag which clearly indicated that I supported a different team... or he could have been just about exhausted and that was merely his face of pain.. who knows.

Eventually it was all over, and we started walking back towards the finish, along with the friendly spectator to whom I'd "given" the bidon.  He was following Twitter on his phone (dead clever) and before we were half-way back to the start, he told us that Cav had won, Renshaw second.

So we headed for home, and later that night we watched the TV coverage very carefully for signs of my flag. Alas, no decent sightings -well, only if you knew where to look. But we hadn't gone with the intention of "being seen", so that didn't matter.

If you do, by the way, wish to Be Seen, here are my tips.

Only stand by barriers that have advertising banners on them. Organisers know where the cameras are going to be, and advertisers won't pay for banners that won't be filmed.

Avoid the crowded corners - everyone goes there, you'll be lost in the crowd.

Look for the static cameras, which are usually at corners: work out which way they will be pointing and position yourself upstream of them. They leave them pointing upstream while the riders come into sight, so there's more chance of being seen upstream, than downstream.

Take a big flag and dangle it over the barrier. For safety, put ties on each corner and tie it loosely to the barrier. That way you can pick out where you are.

And there you have it: LLB and I are now officially "proper" cycling fans, we have been to stage races and a TT, and we've watched in the rain until the very end.  In one sense, it can't compete with the TV coverage, which is fantastic: but it's great to actually be there.  And here, at long last, is my musette:

The Alex Dowsett Incident

"What?" I hear you say, "Who's Alex Dowsett?"

Kara knows, don't you, Kara?

Alex Dowsett is a Sky rider:he joined Sky this season, having previously been in the Trek-Livestrong Under 23 squad.

He's pretty damned good at TT, and as you can see, has a nice smile, pleasantly tousled hair - probably has tuftage potential - and, what you can't see, he has a very laid-back, flat, deadpan, Essex accent.

He was recently a studio guest at the Vuelta coverage, on the day when his team-mates Bradley Wiggins and Chris Froome - or "Friggins" as they are now known - were battling up that horrendously steep hill on Stage 17, ending in Chris Froome beating Cobo by just one second.

I was shouting "Go! Go!" at the computer, the commentators were screaming deliriously,  there was madness and pandemonium all around, then Ned Boulting turned to Alex, in the studio, and said something like "Wow! Fantastic! That's amazing!" to which Alex replied, deadpan, "Yeah. He done reely well."

A master of the understatement, our Alex.

So, this Incident? Tour of Britain, Sunday, London: in the morning he did a storming TT and won it ("Yay!") and in the afternoon he was participating in the "road race" or Criterium, as it was really, being 8 loops of a circuit up and down the Embankment.

During one of the laps, a bright green Sky bidon came flying out of the peloton as it crossed opposite us.

Now, going back to the tour of Colorado, they had some fairly amusing on-screen graphics, like pointers labelling the riders, which moved with them. I suspect we are going to see a lot more of those.. but the point is, LLB and I thought it would be fun if they also added a graphic (this is under the heading of How To Make Road Racing More Interesting To Watch, by the way) of a cartoon explosion, to go wherever a flung bidon lands. So, now, we always make a sound effect when a bidon is thrown - I can't find a way to write it down, but it's like an airy whistle, descending in tone - the sound of a missile coming down to earth, with "Pwhhh!" at the end for when it hits the ground.

Ah, little things make us laugh.

Anyway, we saw this bidon go flying into the crowd on the other side of the road, and we both made the missile noise, but to our amazement it hit an elderly gent right on the forehead, Splat! Water everywhere, the bidon bounced back into the road, the elderly gent staggered backwards with one hand held to his head, people nearby turned to him in consternation, and one of the team cars ran over the bidon which exploded with a mighty POP! leaving bits of plastic shrapnel all over the road.

The elderly gent wasn't hurt, he was more shocked and surprised, and he quickly recovered himself and continued to watch the race. Although he moved back next time they came through...

Later that evening, Alex Dowsett - obviously wracked with guilt tweeted:

So I responded:












And he answered me!














Alex, you have made yourself a fan!

Tour of Britain: Stage 6, Wells

Yessss! Yay! Coug has finally been to a cycle race, in real life. And I didn't even need my passport.

Strictly speaking, reports of race attendance should be on Bananas About Bikes, but those reports always tell about meeting the riders, and this report is more about the mechanics of getting there... plus I don't have any good photos of "our" boys.

Right, here we go, My Tour Of Britain Stage 6, by Cougar Girl.

Stage 6 was from Taunton to Wells, and LLB and I decided to pick a position on the loop just outside the finish at Wells. This would give us two chances to see the race, and the option to move positions if we wanted to.

Days earlier, we checked the map of the route, and picked a sharp right-angled bend, on the grounds that they would be going more slowly on the bends.  (How wrong we were....!) It's obvious that the best place to observe riders is on a steep hill, but we're a bit lacking in them in the UK, and in this case the steep hill would be Cheddar Gorge, a very popular tourist attraction which is crowded and impossible to park in, at the best of times. So, we thought a good tight bend would be the second best place.

The one we picked had a pub on the corner, with a large car park. Cunning, huh? A good place to park.

Our second choice - in case the pub car park was full - was half a mile up the road: a quiet side-road with a good grass verge to park on, and at the top of a gentle rise which might possibly slow them down a bit, we thought.

The race manual gave the estimated times that they would pass our position, so we aimed to get there about half an hour early. For the Tour, we know that you'd need to get there a couple of hours early, but as the ToB is what Cav would call "a shitsmall race" we didn't think we'd need too much extra time.

I had contacted the local radio station to ask if they were covering the race live, and on what frequency, but they didn't even bother to respond, and it turned out that no, they weren't covering it. "They probably don't even know it's on!" said one bystander. Cycling is very much a minority sport in the UK.

So, mid-morning on Friday, nearly there, we approach along the side road that is our second choice of location, and to our surprise there are three people and a push-bike already there. "Wow!" we say "We are not going to be the only people here!" We decided to go on to our first choice, knowing that we could always come back if it was too crowded. Not that we seriously thought it would be, but you never know.

We drove on, and parked in the pub's car park: here's the pub, as it looked when we researched it on Google Maps. It was very much the same on the day, except that the sky was blue - yes, really, the sun was shining - and there were three or four people standing around at the road-side, along with a camper van parked up with a group of 5 or so people with folding chairs, cups of tea etc.

Aha! we thought, this must be the right place!  We were a good half an hour earlier than the earliest possible time for the race to arrive, and the traffic was whizzing past in both directions, so we reckoned that we'd timed it just right.

It was such a  nice day that we sat out in the car park, eating our packed lunch and trying to guess what would be the first sign of the race arriving.

Helicopters overhead? Police cars to hold up the traffic? The publicity caravan, handing out sweeties and those plastic flappy hands and tubular clappy things? After several minutes of happy speculation, we decided that whatever it was, it would probably be at least 10 minutes before the leaders arrived, so we'd have plenty of time.

And that's what happened. A few more people trickled into the car park, and a few more people appeared at the roadside,  and then we heard the first police sirens. So we put our chairs back in the car, shook off the crumbs, got out my Big Flag, and wandered up to the roadside.

First to appear were a small bunch of police motorbikes, all blue flashing lights and dramatic skidding to a halt at the bend. One of them stopped the oncoming traffic, and the others whizzed off up the route to stop it in the other direction.

We decided to stand right opposite the oncoming road, so that we would see them approaching.

Here's our chosen  position: the riders would approach from in front of us, and they would turn right, which is to our left.

More police bikes! I started counting them. They had a lovely co-ordinated pattern - one would whizz up the lane towards us, take over the position to block the traffic, and the one already there would move away. So they never had to overtake each other - they just bumper-car-ed each other along the route.

And they were really good-tempered as well - they were talking to the spectators, making their sirens go "Whoo-ooop!" to make the little kiddies jump, and waving goodbye as they drove off. None of them were in place for longer than about a minute, so we got quite good at waving to them.

There was a chap standing next to us wearing a Mercedes polo shirt: I felt a bit embarrassed about being so obviously a Team Leopard fan (what with having my Big Flag, and all) and didn't like to start a conversation with him in case he mentioned sponsorship and breaking contracts.... but on my other side was a nice chap in cycling gear, and we had a debate about who was going to be in the lead. He thought Rapha Condor Sharp. We thought Sky.

We had a bit of a discussion about accidents on corners, and he was highly amused to hear that LLB and I had already worked out at which point in a corner you were in danger of being hit by a sliding cyclist. Well, we thought it was only common sense: we've seen enough cornering accidents to know that they are always slightly round the apex of the corner, so if you are standing directly opposite the oncoming road, they are most unlikely to hit you.

More police bikes, I was now up to 18 and they still kept coming, tagging the previous one, taking up position, "Whoo-oop!" with the siren, look for the next one to arrive, drive off, waving to the kiddies.

For variety, some of the bikes were Medical Service. Several of them had bidons strapped to their light poles, which amused me - I even spotted one with a yellow Tour de France bidon. Let's hope that he'd washed it out thoroughly in the meantime.

Here's a very unexciting shot of the police bikes tag-team: one has just arrived, the one who was there is now zooming off to the left, and in the oncoming road you can see another police bike stopping a car who had somehow managed to get past the road-block further up the route (to the left) and was determined to drive up the lane, towards the oncoming cycle race.

"I'm sorry, sir, there's a cycle race approaching, you can't go up here."

"But we work up here - we have to get back to work"

"I'm sorry, sir, you can't go up here just yet, I'm going to have to ask you to turn around and clear the road."

"But, but, we work just up here, just five minutes up here on the left, we have to get back to work..."

"Turn the vehicle around, sir."

"But -"

*menacingly* "Turn. The. Vehicle. Around.  Sir."

They did as they were told.

More police bikes, now up to 25, possibly 28, I kept losing count. More medical bikes, and now -ooh! excitment! instead of the usual yellow high-vis bibs,we got a chap in an orange bib. A Marshall!! Yes, he parked his bike up on the verge and dug around in his panniers before producing the triangular yellow flag that we all know so well from watching "proper" races.

There was a definite feeling of "something is about to happen" and the crowd had grown to maybe 30 or so people, which is quite impressive for a small pub on a quiet road in the middle of nowhere.

Suddenly, a commotion behind us! Lots of shreiking and high-pitched squeeing. Oh, it's the primary school children from the nearest village, being brought out to wave. Little darlings. Each one wearing a small high-vis bib, and all in pairs, holding hands, and NOT running, but walking carefully. They'd been told that the race was nearly here, so they were all out of breath from running up the lane. However, nothing had happened yet, so they had time to be escorted a little way up the road to a big bank, where they all sat down in a great big, shrieking, giggling, yellow mass.

So, where's the caravan, then? Where are the sweeties?

Oh, what's this?

It's the Commentator Car! No-one said there would be a Commentator Car!

Yes, it stopped at the corner, and announced through the loudspeaker that there was a break of three riders, one of whom was Joost Posthuma, who had about 20 seconds on the second group, who in turn had 30 seconds on the main peloton.

Then it zoomed off, to a chorus of "Eeeeeeeeee!" from the kiddies (who were screaming with excitement by now) and just a minute or so later, more police bikes ("32," I mutter to myself)  and then  - could this be it? Cries of "They're coming!" from the assembled crowd.

Not strictly true - first was the red Commisaire's car, then the white Neutral Service car (why was he in front of the riders?) and then, at last - Cyclists!

Like everyone else there, I brought up my camera and tried to take photos, and there they were, gone.

Same thing happened with the second group, and my photo of the the main peloton was just a blur.

At this point I would say "and that was it, all over in about 2 seconds" but of course we had the cavalcade of vehicles, which went on - and on - and on.

Nearly had a heart attack when the Leopard car braked and pulled in just past me ("hello, you are the only person we have seen with a Leopard flag, would you like to ride in the car?" "Why, thank you, I'd love to - budge up Andy, make room for me in the back") but then it drove on, in fact it was just avoiding one of the other cars. Drat.

Eventually we got to the Ambulance, and the RAC van, and then it was over, and gradually the "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" from the kiddies faded away.

Everyone looked at each other with bemused "Phew!" expressions, and the crowd all wandered off.

We went back to my car, and sat in it, knowing that we had a goo half an hour before they'd be back for the final loop. We compared blurry photos, and decided it might be better to try videoing instead, so we sat in the car and worked out how to get our camera-phones to take video. I felt that I hadn't really seen the race, as I'd been looking at my camera all the time, so we practiced holding them without looking at them, if you see what I mean.

A little later, we decided it was about time, so we went out to the roadside again, and this time we stood a bit further past the corner - well past the potential cyclo-crash point - to get a different view.

I was making conversation with the other bystanders, as I do (poor LLB, I do embarass him in so many, many ways...) and discovered that one elderly couple weren't here to watch the race at all, they had been on their way out to the garden centre (by heck, some people know how to live) when they encountered the road block, so they really didn't know what was going on at all. But they were completely happy to stand there and wave! ("Well. it's free, isn't it?")

At this point, I made a friend - a girl with a flag came up to say hello! Well, we were the only people there with flags, I expect that she recognised a fellow loony, and felt it was safe to make conversation. Her flag was orange and said "Hup Holland!" so we are guessing that she's a Rabobank supporter. Hi, Derrie! Like us, she was gutted that HTC were folding for no good reason at all, and she made sympathetic noises about Leopard having to "merge" - ie be taken over by - Radioshack. I'm pretty sure she wasn't a Schlecklander, as she didn't do the dance, or sing the song, but I've made her an honorary Schlecklander for being mad enough to stand and wave a flag.

Ooh, ooh, sirens, here we go - and yes, the same performance. Police bikes, ("Eeeeeee!" from the kids), Commentator car ("the lead group of 8 riders have just 12 seconds on the chasing group" nearly swamped by "Eeeeeeeee!" from the kids),  red car, (flinch back at the speed they hurtle round the corner) neutral service car - why was he still in front of the riders? - Get ready to press "go" on the camera, check that it's pointing the right way, and then I could actually watch the race.

Well! Talk about take your breath away. When the first group came round the corner, I actually forgot to breathe, let alone to press "go" on the camera. My hair - which, as per the cartoon, is short and straight - flew up in the air from the speed at which they went past. I certainly forgot to shout!

12 seconds later, the chasing group appeared - this time, the camera worked, I managed to shout "Yay", and again, my hair was blown all up on end. The wind of their passing is astonishing!  And they come so close!

Even though in one sense they rush past in a blur, I was amazed that I could see faces, (and could recognise some of them, pleasingly!) and  my overwhelming impression was of strength:  not of skinny bodies, but of - oh dear, there's no way to say this without attracting the wrong sort of googlers - well, of, er  (for god's sake, Coug, just SAY IT!) ok, of bulging lycra. Arms, mostly, and shoulders, and legs - full of muscle, rather like when you watch a decent quality horse, the way you can see the muscles move under the skin, and the way the shine of the light changes as they move. Well, it was a bit like that. Honestly, ladies, I kid you not, shorts etc don't come into it, it's purely an admiration of the sheer strength and physicality of them, as they whizz past.

This time around, nearing the end of the stage, the faces were extremely grim, there were a lot of riders who were not having a good time, and instead of being in three compact bunches that passed in 0.00003 seconds, there were quite a few who were hanging off the back. This time there was a  lot of encouragement from our section of the road, helped by Derrie who was quite happy to yell like a mad thing with no embarrassment at all. So they all got cheered as they went past, especially the tail-end charlies. We even cheered the broom wagon.

And yes, it has a broom stuck upright on the back of it. It's surprisingly small - only the size of a normal Transit van - so presumably not many riders have to be swept up by it? Or they sit on each others' laps? Or they stack them sideways on bunks?

And then it was all over! "Are you going to London on Sunday?" I asked Derrie. "Probably, hopefully" she replied. "OK, see you there!" I laughed. Chances of meeting up in London: about 50,000:1, I would have thought.

Another spectator, an elderly gentleman, nodded towards my flag and asked what my team were going to be called next year. Good to know that it was clearly recognisable as a Leopard supporter's flag!

So, overall impressions? Yes, it's well worth going in person. True, you see it much better on the TV, and we had no idea of who won until we got home that evening, but all cycling fans should go to at least one race, to enjoy the atmosphere, the excitement, and the closeness of the riders.

But I would say, really, don't bother trying to take photos of the race - just watch it, and enjoy it.  Pictures of riders racing past are never going to be particularly good, unless you are a professional photographer and have all the kit. And in the short time that it takes to take one photo, they are past!

Well, that's my first ever Road Race stage, now we head for London and the ITT, followed by the loops of London. Which I guess would count as a Crit?

Oh, and I do have my wonderful (er-hem) videos, I just can't figure out yet how to upload them....

Tour of Britain

Yay! It's the Tour of Britain!

OK, it's what Cav calls a "shitsmall race" and it doesn't generate any UCI points, and Jean Vois is no longer in it - pause while I sob and wail - but it's still the biggest cycle race in the UK, and it's going to be the first one that I ever go to. First of many, possibly? We'll see.

It's Thursday night, LLB and I are off to Somerset tomorrow, if all goes well: and then we'll be going  to London for the weekend, so we can watch the final two sections on Sunday.

So don't expect to hear from me for a couple of days - but please be assured that I am Doing It For You, as it's my duty to give you my take on attending a cycle race. Here's hoping that it will generate what PeeDee referred to as a "typically Coug-ish post", and that you will all enjoy hearing about it.

Let's hope that something happens, that I can tell you about!

"Long drive to get there, no-one else there, stood by road for 2.5 hours in rain, peloton went past at 1,000mph whooosh whooosh swish swish (don't forget the rain) taking 0.03 seconds to pass. Went home."

One of my friends, as a parting shot, wrote "Have a great weekend, hope the sun shines for you and all those men in tight shorts." Honestly, she has no idea of my pure and spiritual interest in Andy Schleck cycling in general. Tight shorts? What tight shorts? I have no idea what she was talking about.

But just to hold all you fans of That Andy Bloke (as LLB calls him):

So have a good weekend in advance, everyone, see you next week.

Coug

PS I will be the one waving the Leopard Trek flags: very simple, just white flags with black tops, and a blue stripe.

Look for us at a particularly sharp right-hand bend, within the "loop" towards the end.

And yes, I will be wearing my Stomach of Anger tee!

Jean Vois leaves Tour of Britain

Oh noes!

It's true, on the very first stage of the ToB, practically at the first corner (well, we didn't get much coverage, and it was about 2 minutes in to the programme) there was a mighty crash, and Jean Vois was one of those who hit the deck.

He broke a finger, and he's retired from the race.

Boo hoo! Poor Jensi!

(Mind you, I would have thought it would take at least a broken leg to keep him out of  a race.)

Also, poor us, here in the UK, as Jensi was definitely the star of the Leopard team, and I was looking forward to waving at him later in the race.

I was even planning to add "40 ! " to my big flag, with the 0 being the Leopard logo, of course,  as it's his 40th birthday this week.

Now, alas, he's been bandaged up and sent back to Berlin for "an operation" on his broken finger.

Actually, the Leopard site says "He will return to Berlin for an operation sometime in the next few days."  So it's not quite clear if he's going to return to Berlin now and have an operation in a few days' time, or will return to Berlin (for an operation) in a few days's time.  Ah, English as she is translated. If it's the latter, then Jensi, why don't you come to Shepton Mallet on Friday, you can stand next to me and watch the race, if you like. I've saved a space for Andy but I don't think he's coming... but if he does, you are both very slim, there's plenty of room for both of you.

I'm laughing as I write that, as I am confidently expecting LLB and I to be the only people in sight for miles in either direction. We are planning the journey to get there well before the race starts, to ensure that we can get a place to park and a good position from which to watch.

We've selected a likely corner, as it's quite clear that corners mean "slowing down" so there's more chance to see them as they whizz past.

We also have a back-up position in case we cant' get it to our chosen one - it's a small hill which might slow them up just a little, with some good laybys for parking in. But I have a feeling that we will be able to park wherever we darm well like! Especially if the weather continues like this - it's wild, wet and windy today, with more to come.

So if you are watching the footage later this week, and you see the peloton take a sharp right-hand bend with two forlorn little figures under umbrellas (mine will have "Nissan" on it, of course), the shorter of the two waving a sodden Leopard flag, with no-one else in sight for miles and miles and miles.. that's LLB and me.

GreenEdge are looking good!

Well, it's a big warm Schleckland welcome then, to the new Aussie team, GreenEdge.

So far, most of us don't know a great deal about them, so - as I'm still off work with a mega stiff neck (it's ok, it's improving now, but the weather is awful so I'm quite  happy to stay indoors) - I thought I'd do a bit of digging.

After all, Our Stuey has gone there, leaping in joyful bounds like a playful little kangeroo.  Oh, all right, Leelu, I can hear you - a kangAroo, then! By the way, that kangaroo that was spotted in a domestic garden in southern England is still on the loose......

Plus, senior Schlecklanders Leelu and Nim live in Oz, along with quite a few other Schlecklanders, so we naturally have an interest in them.

Plus, they sound as though they're going to be fun! Can you imagine a team comprising 75% Aussies? Oh, those hotel rooms! Oh, those podium girls!

Anyway, back to the research:

Back in January 2011, GreenEdge announced that they had their financial backing in place, and were in discussion with the UCI regarding their application to join the ProTeam calendar. This shows that they haven't rushed into it, but have been "doing it right" from the very beginning.

The quotes are good, too from Shayne Bannan, the Team Manager, who is described as "a former high performance director at the Australian Institute of Sport (AIS)":

“The critical point is that we already have committed funding in place.”  We like to hear that, let's hope it's from a range of government and business sponsors, with not too much of the private individual... I think we've all learned that lesson. So far, their sponsors are Scott (who make bikes) and Santini, who make sports clothing. Well, that's a good start - something to ride, something to wear.

They also have funding from Jayco, Cycling Australia, Australian Institute of Sport and Canyon, so that seems like a nice spread of backing.

"This is not about a short-term bid to get a team into the Tour de France"  which is the perfect way to take the pressure off, and a subtle dig at Leopard at the same time!

“We are aiming to create a team that will stay at the top end of world cycling for a long time to come.” Well, we all like the sound of that.

And finally, "Bannan insisted he would not resort to illegally poaching riders from other teams for the new outfit."  Poaching? Sounds more as though most of them flung their contracts out of the window with great glee, and leapt on to the nearest plane!

Their rider roster is looking good - the recent news reports have them saying they are 90% full - so there might be room for a couple of spare Leopards - and they have certainly confirmed the following list, in no particular order:

Jack Bobridge (comedy name - why does that make me laugh? Oh, the Bobbit case. Sorry.)
Cameron Meyer
Travis Meyer (who has just GOT to be related to Cameron Meyer)
Michael Albisini
Matt Goss
Simon Clarke
Daniel Teklehaimanot (how's that for a name? Bet they call him Tek for short)
Sebastian Langeveld (a traditional Aussie name)
Stuey - yay! go, Stuey!
Simon Gerrans - who went from my No 1 team, Team Sky, with my kind permission... joking...
Matt Wilson
Baden Cooke (something to do with boy scouts? Let's hope not)
Pieter Weening (something to do with sausages? Again, let's hope not)
Jens Mouris
Svein Tuft - who of course we already know in Schleckland. Go, Tufty Boy!

This lot have a total of 563 UCI points - yes, troops, breathe a sigh of relief, I did it for you:  I risked my soul by spending time on the UCI site, checking out the individual rankings. Not quite as soul-sapping as reading the rulebooks, or the press releases, but still not an activity to be undertaken lightly.

563 points puts them 10th or 11th as things stand at the moment, which means that they should get a ProTour licence with ease. The bottom 4 at present have 367 points down to 297, so they are the ones who will be quivering in their boots come the end of the year.

As an aside, now that the UCI has made it all about points, I do wish that they would also publish a table of the Pro-Continental Teams by ranking of ProTeam points, as well as by their own Continental tour points. This would make it very easy to see which of them are in a position to take over a ProTeam place.

And look, GreenEdge already have a bus!

So all in all, they are pretty much ready to take their place, and to fill the gap left by the so-called merger of Leopard and the Shack.

I think - haven't actually checked this yet - that we should have the same number of teams next year.

Omega-Pharma-Lotto have split into two, but Quickstep are merging with Omega Pharma. No net gain/loss.

Leopard and the Shack are "merging", and GreenEdge are starting. Again, no net gain/loss.

So it should still be 18 teams at the highest level. Unless I've forgotten anyone, in which case do feel free to tell me.

Talking of buses, digression, I wonder if Mercedes will, in a fit of pique, take back all their team buses and cars? That would serve Leopard right, don't you think? Then Nissan would have to hand over some hastily-sign-written vehicles to get them about to the final few races of the season. Or maybe they'd just give them whatever they had hanging about in the yard, which could be amusing.

Ooh, what a mean thing for me to say. But if they do, then remember, you heard it first on here!

Sponsors V Rich Men

Leopard Trek are in trouble, we all know that: the so-called merger is actually RadioShack - a team which was on the brink of folding - taking over Leopard Trek, creaming off the highest-scoring riders, and discarding a dozen or so perfectly good, talented, under-contract riders.

(Get yourselves a felt pen and draw lines through the ones that aren't going to make it...)

OK we're all pretty bogged off about this, and in my opinion we have a right be be unhappy.

About this time last year, we were all sitting here wondering if there was any truth in the rumours that Andy and Frankie were going to leave SaxoBank and start a new team.

Then we learned about this Rich Man (Mr Becca) who was a personal friend of the Schleck family, and was a multi-millionaire, who wanted to be a cycling patron and have his own team. He didn't even want to have his name on the jerseys, which we thought was a good thing. (BeccaTrek - hmm, not the catchiest team title. Mind you, compared to the ridiculously clunky Radio-Shack-Nissan-Trek, it might not have been so bad....)

Early this year, this Mr Becca said "we don't need a main sponsor".

But suddenly, two days ago, he announced that it wasn't possible for a cycling team to go forward without a main sponsor, so he was reducing his financial commitment by 50% (we are assuming that he has reduced his emotional/moral/friend-of-the-family commitment by about 99%) and has basically flogged the team off to the Shack.

Now, takeovers, mergers and changes of sponsor happen all the time.

Indeed, it was SaxoBank's announcement in Jan 2010 that they were withdrawing sponsorship at the end of the year, and Bjarne Riis' failure to find a replacement sponsor all the way through the summer that lead to the Schlecks leaving in the first place.

You have only to look at the history of the ProTeams to see how much sponsors change: take the lovely pink and blue Lampre team, for example:

2005 Lampre-Caffita
2006 Lampre-Fordital
2007 Lampre-Fordital
2008 Lampre
2009 Lampre-NGC
2010 Lampre-Farnese-Vini
2011 Lampre-ISD.

As you can see, although they've always been Lampre, over 7 years they've had 6 different names.

Geox, in the last 5 years, have been Saunier Duval-Prodir, Saunier Duval-Scott, Fuji-Servetto, Footon-Servetto-Fuji, and now Geox.

It happens - sponsors change.

So, why are we all so unhappy about this most recent change?

Answer, sponsors change because they have financial criteria to meet. Money is available, times change, money is no longer available. The sponsors themselves get taken over, or merged, or get bored with sponsoring cycling (Saxobank). We all know about big corporations: they make decisions in a boardroom somewhere, and although we may grumble mightily about it, there's nothing we can do, "it's business".

But a Rich Man - that should be different. He's rich, he doesn't have shareholders, he's a personal friend, he wants to have a cycle team, he doesn't even want his name all over it (which he could easily have asked for), he doesn't have a board of directors to answer to.

He said "I have lots of money, I want to be a patron of cycling, I'll pay for it." He promised 4 years of funding.

And now he's turning his back on the team: to some extent, he's throwing them to the wolves by selling them to Mr Bruyneel, who is proud of his reputation as a whip-cracker, and who has made his biggest fame by taking one solitary rider (Lance) and building an entire team around him, allowing no-one else to interfere with the goal of Getting Lance To Win The Tour.

In which, of course, he succeeded magnificently, doing it 7 times. But there wasn't much of a look-in for anyone else in the team. It was understood that they were all subordinate to Lance. Which is fine if that's what you sign up for, but our Leopard boys are not being given much choice in the matter, are they? You, you and you, you're in. You 11 over there, you're out. Charming.

We are all disgusted at the way the news was broken, of course: there is no excuse for denying everything less than a fortnight ago, and then announcing it out of the blue on Monday morning, WHILST STILL failing to tell your own riders about it.

How to demotivate your riders, Mr Becca.  Oh, of course, you don't care any more, do you?

Please feel free to throw virtual custard pies at Mr Becca.

I think that is why we are so outraged by this: we expected better from an individual. We believed his promises of a 4-year commitment, thus meaning that we didn't need sponsors.

And now he's let us all down.

Worst of all, he's done this less than a year into the new team's life.

Not even a full season! Leopard are sitting at the very top of the UCI team rankings - we are team number 1, we even beat BMC, who had the TdF winner on their roster.

OK, Gilbert has won more races that the entire Leopard Team put together, but Team Leopard are still team number 1 in points.

There has also been some criticism that Team Leopard have come 2nd rather more times than they have come 1st: but this is the team's first year, the shake-down year. Even the unlovely Mr Becca has referred to this as being the "apprentice year" (although none of us remember hearing anyone use that phrase before) so it seems quite ridiculous to go to all the trouble of setting up a team, then dropping it like a hot potato less than a full year after starting it.

Mr Becca, we know that you have your reasons, and to you they are probably compelling and believable reasons, but we feel that you have treated Team Leopard like a disposable toy. And we don't like you any more.

Update: incredibly, "they", whoever "they" might be - presumably Mr Becca and Mr Bruyneel - failed to tell Mercedes about it!!

A few minutes ago, this report appeared in Velonation, with Mercedes - who kindly supplied all the vehicles, buses, cars etc - only just finding out about it.

Needless to say, they are pretty cross: Nissan will obviously expect the team to use Nissans now, so where does that leave Mercedes with their "long term contract" ?

Spitting nails, is the answer.

And at the bottom of the report, as an afterthought, Velonation add that yesterday, Mr Becca confirmed that Brian Nygaard is out on his ear.

Two minutes later, Brian tweeted "Leaving Leopard. Thanks for all the amazing support and above all: best of luck to riders and staff wherever the road will take you."

Poor man.

Leopard Trek merger with RadioShack

Well, I was wrong!

Tim Vanderjeugde, spokesman for Leopard Trek, said “On the team's behalf, I can flatly deny that there is a merger with Radioshack,"  and I said - in a post that [luckily] I didn't get time to finish last night - that that was good enough for me.

Oh dear, I was wrong, and Tim V is no longer to be considered worthy of any respect, should we ever hear from him again. I suppose he was only saying what he was told to, but it's pretty poor to flatly deny something less than a fortnight before announcing that it's true.

So, our own website confirms it, and we are now going to be operating under the clunky name of RadioShack-Nissan-Trek.




So what happens to the trademark?


If this means no more logo I will be spitting mad, as I have it all over the backs of all of my work shirts!







And it means a new kit, damn, damn, I was just getting used to the stripes (*throws down half-made Leopard-Trek flag in annoyance - yes, Jolanda, I hadn't quite finished it, thank you for asking - and wonders if it's worth finishing it, just for the one race*).

And I know we are all thinking this, so I might as well say it up here as well as below - this is a pretty shabby way to go about any sort of changes to your new team, not telling the actual riders or the staff.

These are all people who threw up perfectly good jobs and contracts with other teams to come to the Leopard-Trek fold.

They gave up their futures (known or unknown) and their history and their loyalty to their old teams.


And now, barely a year into it, all change: and they weren't even told about it.


That's pretty disgraceful. And as for the business of l'Equippe publishing a list of riders who they thought were going to be thrown out, well, that is just disgusting, and there is no excuse for the Leopard-Trek management for not handling that side of things properly.


It's all very well to call it a merger - RadioShack were in deep trouble and were folding, there is no denying that, so it's not a merger, Leopard are taking over the Shack team.  I notice that the press release phrases it that the two sponsors, Shack and Nissan, are joining team Leopard.  So why do 11 of the Leopard riders automatically get the shove - publicly - when surely the bulk of the shoving should be to the Shack riders?


I think that we, the fans, are entitled to grumble at this point: we, too, brought our loyalty to the new team, and supported them, even through the stupid LAY-oh-pard pronunciation fiasco, and we are rewarded by having our new team chopped up and relabelled before we even get into our second year.


As I see it, the only good thing about this whole affair is that Nissan are coming on board. (Says she, former Nissan employee and big-time supporter of the brand.) So I can look forward to seeing Nissan across various Schleck-flavoured backsides.

Vuelta - thank heaven for Rest days...

...as it gives me time to catch up with posting about what's been happening.

I have to start with the truly horrible camera-work that we are suffering - Eurosport keep on telling us that it's not their fault, they are just relaying the images that they are receiving. Does that  mean that everyone else in the world has to watch the last grand tour of the year rotating between these equally un-lovely colour schemes:

1) Camera Bike 1 at the head of the race: all orange kits have gone brown.
2) Helicopter: pulsing colour so the trees go bright green... then dull green ... then BRIGHT green.... then dull green....
3) Camera Bike 2 on the peloton - dull colours and somewhat out of focus.
4) Camera Bike 3 - floating around - BRILLIANT TECHNICOLOUR so bright that the blue of the Andalucia team actually hurts the eyes.

The only point of note in stage 2 was spotting JVS with his sleeves rolled up, yay!

Then for some reason - ie there not being enough hours in the weekend - we jump straight to Vuelta Stage 6. Look, there's a Garmin rider with his sleeves tucked up. "JVS!" I squee. Hang on, he's nowhere near tall enough. Errrr, it's a different Garmin rider! What's going on, are they doing this to tease me? Or has JVS - also known as Garmin 2 - started a trend within the team? We will probably never know..

Stage 7 - well, nothing of interest happened, and LLB and I were getting a bit distracted by the scenery. If you can call it that. Barren..... bare earth.... olive trees! More bare earth.... dead grasses..... olive trees!

Stage 8 starts with the news that Tyler Farrar is out, he had a bad crash the previous day and probably shouldn't have even tried to start this day, but you know what these cyclists are like ("supermen") and they will insist on riding if not actually dead. So Barbie Barbie is off the leash! And there he is, out there in the break. Go, Barbie Barbie! (In case you've forgotten, Heinrich Hausler is sometimes known as Barbie, and a superbly talented and amusing fan made a Barbie Barbie doll... and a sort of live-action-with-dolls-cartoon-strip.  Actually, the "making of" page is even more fascinating.... )

Today, we have an addition to the Terrible Camerawork: the main BikeCam has a big smudge on the lens, just to the right of the centre. It's a bit like that CCTV footage of vandals and burglars, where their faces are fuzzed out to protect their privacy. I have no idea why random, and ever-changing, cyclists need to have their privacy protected.

No wonder la Vuelta is considered rather a lesser race than the Giro and the Tour - if they can't even get decent pictures out, well!  Our Eurosport commentators are suggesting that the Eneco Tour is going to be "bigged up" and the Vuelta reduced to two weeks of racing. I am beginning to think this might be a good idea - thinking back to the excellent Eneco footage.

Awww, Anton, my favourite Carrot (Euskaltel), after struggling like a dog for the last few days, has suddenly popped up in 6th position! Go, Anton!

General observation: LLB and I are staggered at the parched, empty landscape of southern Spain.The land appears to be dry and barren, apart from the very neat rows of (presumably) olive trees: then there are some empty buildings in the middle of nowhere, which are presumably olive processing plants. At last - a village! Hmm, no-one in sight. Well, ok, it's siesta time, but I mean - no-one? Not a soul?  With a big cycle race occurring? 

And there don't seem to be any shops. How do they live? I am prepared to accept that maybe they have a simpler lifestyle than we do -  perhaps they buy a bag of flour once a month, and maybe veg from the local market (where is it grown?) each day or so, but still, you'd think there would still be a need for some sort of local shop, and I can't imagine it being anywhere other than on the main street.

LLB thinks that they are zombie towns.

Oh, here's another one: this one has a single line of rail track running into it. The track is as near to overgrown as you can get, in a situation where the weeds can't grow.... there are no cars, just more empty buildings and empty houses. How do they get to the olive processing factories, then? Walk? Cycle? Donkey? (didn't see any signs of donkeys, either.)

Aha, we're entering a biggish town. Hmm, population 25, and apparently all of them have turned out to see the race. They are cunningly all standing on the shady side of the street.

Out of the town and back through the dead landscape. There are small fields, with scrappy hedges around them, but nothing growing or grazing (no grass!) within them. Just the olive trees. How do they live? ("As zombies", says LLB)
("What do zombies eat?" I ask.)
("Each other" he replies.)
(I pull a face.)
("Passing cyclists?" I ask, facetiously)
("Oh yes," he replies cheerfully, "some of the lesser riders will never be seen again.")

Stage 9 is the TT, and it's a nice casual start for the riders, not much in the way of crowds. We can hear the man with the microphone desperately trying to whip the small audience up into a frenzy, somewhat like a children's TV presenter.

Jakob appears, and for once the wobbly, jittery, blacking-out-every-five-minutes camerawork stays steady long enough for us to see him lick his lips, then put his tongue out.

"Leelu will have that on her blog - ooh, any second now!" I say, looking at my watch.  [Pause while I go and check Just Fuglen: shock! horror! Leelu has failed to catch that moment! And here was me thinking that Lee and Nim were the acknowledged world experts on Jakob with his tongue out. Shame, ladies, shame...]

Well, as we all know, Jakob dropped a chain, but picked it up very quickly, almost before the mechanic could leap out of the car - we saw the door of the car opening - and he was away, "going like a train" as our commentators said.

Despite the heat, and the rising wind, Jakob did a fantastic TT and very nearly beat Fabu! Gosh, can you imagine what Fabu would say if he did? Actually, Fabian is such a great guy, I can imagine him actually being pleased for Jakob.

And then we have the rest day, and I get a chance to catch up with blogging.....