the country's obsessed with it: some 3500km of hard bicycle slog. and a yellow shirt. and also, the lesser well known spotted shirt. (the white with red spotted shirt is awarded to the bloke who does the best in the mountains). this year's race started with all sorts of pomp and ceremony in london before it traversed la manche (or the english channel, depending on what side of it you are) and headed for the hills. up and down. i don't know how they do it- especially being as we've been up and down quite a few of them in our non spotted shirt winning peugeot. oh, now here's the crazy bit: this week the dude who had the yellow shirt, a danish bloke, was kicked out for failing to do a blood test at the appropriate moment (and then making up a big story about where he was as opposed to where he actually was...) and so he lost the yellow shirt to a spanish guy. now spanish guy isn't so good at the time trials (different type of race they do on the flat bits to keep the punters interested) and today was nearly beaten by an australian. nearly. so, (you can exhale) he retains the yellow shirt. pascal spends whole afternoons watching the race. it is a little addictive- if only to see what the next drama/accident will be.
tomorrow is the final day and the cyclists will be zooming in to paris, up the champs elysee. so guess where we'll be going? oh, i'm very excited.
we'll be off on our tour de france soon. might as well being as paris will be shut.
xx
b
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