This day's coverage started in high good humour, as the Movistar team were seen tickling each other on the sign-in podium: there was much giggling and nudging of arms to prevent each other signing in:
Ah, *sigh* these carefree youngsters! Ah, *sigh*, what it is to have a firm sponsor commitment for next year!
I was pleased to see that today, the podium girly had managed to find some proper shoes, so her feet now appeared to be the right size for her body. She was doing a good job of getting the pens out and back again, although she didn't look over-warm in her strapless mini-dress: amongst the riders there were lots of gilets and armwarmers on show - not much of that "heat haze" today, eh, Carlton?
Our coverage begins with 48k to go, and we are told that Costa, in his rainbow jersey, did a proper job by taking part in the first sprint of the day. He only came third, but he got the jersey out there, and that's the main thing!
Today's break is very much the pro-teams, with an exciting fight for the KoM points, then another super swooping descent. I'm no cyclist, but even I can feel the urge to race downhill on those wide, perfectly tarmac-ed roads, with regular sweeping bends, no nasty surprises, and nice strong barriers.
("Frankie! Noooooo!")
The bends are so spectacular, with the road falling away below them, that the coverage just cries out for a motor-sport soundtrack, or a James Bond-style car chase. Magnus is again drooling, and no doubt regretting his retirement from road cycling...
Carlton comments on the lack of litter and graffiti ("if that long flat wall were anywhere else, it would be covered in graffiti by now.") just as LLB comments on the lack of crops, and of people.
Hmm, wonder if the two are connected?
Or is it more to do with the repressive regime out there? Carlton and Magnus spend some time discussing the difference between "officially sanctioned banners" such as the one we are now looking at on the top wall of a reservoir (which presumably says "admire our beautiful reservoir, built by the glorious empire for the benefit of all") (except those whose houses were drowned out by the rising water, of course, but that's a shortcoming of dams all over the world) and casual graffiti.
Mind you, when your language is written in ideograms, even graffiti looks lovely! For all we know it could be saying "Go home, cursed westerners" or worse. A thought which often comes to me when in Chinese restaurants - they have those delicate wall-hangings, beautiful to look at, but I always wonder if they actually say "die, pig-dog Englishers" or "we spit in your food, mwah ha ha!" or something like that.
During this discussion, the break was caught, and a new break went away, we have no idea how important this break is, as we have no idea how many kms there are still to go.
So we watch idly, until Adam Hansen of Lotto pings off the front and gets the last 3 second time bonus at the sprint point, and we are told there is 24k to go. We are also told that he, Adam, has ridden the last seven consecutive Grand Tours: all three this year, all three the year before, and the Vuelta the year before. That's quite an achievement!
Apparently he also makes his own cycling shoes: no, he doesn't sit cross-legged on the floor of the team bus, stitching away, he has designed his own range of carbon-fibre shoes. Well, why not - it seems logical that someone who participates in a sport would have the best idea of what they require from the kit, after all. And Dave Zabriskie - shamed ex doper, now retired - had his own range of chamois cream. Perhaps Andy will one day have his own range of helmets, with special tuft-enabled venting.
15k to go and Hansen is still out front all alone, starting on the final climb with just 40seconds on the peloton, and yes, he's wearing his self-made shoes, which might give him wings, but which don't prevent the peloton catching him 3k later.
10k to go and Tony Martin is thundering down the descent, with everyone making comparisons to his heart-breaking lone Vuelta breakaway, where he stayed out for 174km, but was caught within the last 100metres. He has won both the previous editions of this race, so presumably he thinks that he ought to at least make the effort.
This time, we are all pretty certain he'll be caught long before then, but it's good to see that he hasn't lost heart or confidence in himself, and off he goes, swinging smoothly round all those lovely easy bends, at what appears to be about a thousand miles an hour. However, appearances, or rather, camerabikes, are deceptive, and he never gets far ahead of the peloton, who sweep him up with 4k to go, and thunder on towards the finish.
It's a repeat of yesterday, and Bouhanni wins the day, and keeps the jersey.
Two more days to go, and we're off to the "mountains" tomorrow!
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