Random poolside musings

My god we were shattered today (yes, yes, I may have been a little hungover too).  Yesterday was so thoroughly overexciting in so many ways, and we peaked a bit heavily. I crawled down to breakfast to wave off the rest of the group, then we watched Bedknobs and Broomsticks and slept all morning. Tam has just eaten an entire wheel of brie for lunch and nothing else. If I see any more cheese I'm going to barf.

Pierre Rolland has just gone up Madelaine (fnarf fnarf), and I’m updating the waiter over my shoulder from The Guardian live coverage online, as the latter is totally gutted he has to work after the French finally won a stage yesterday to save them from total humiliation. Everyone else should be back soon as they’re only viewing at lunchtime today (we were supposed to go to the finish but among the hoi polloi, and everyone declared themselves too shattered and unable to face another huge bus journey home).

I didn’t mention the cycling really yesterday, as I was beyond typing by the time it got to us, although it was of course a fascinating stage (I did not, as you may think, spend ALL day going back and forth from the bar). The usual strategically incomprehensible Saxo Tinkhoff attack (Roche and Paulinho mashed into the ground for no fathomable reason), Riblon winning for France after punching a drunk spectator (it wasn’t just me!) and later riding into a ditch, Contador attacking yet again on the descent and yet again being unable to sustain it.

And of course the Froome and Porte drama: as The Guardian said, it was an attempt by Porte to keep the time penalty from hypoglycaemic Froome that was so Baldrickian in its transparency that they both got fined – but it was obviously the right decision to keep Froome upright and able.

Mumblings are going around about whether Porte should have left him. NO NO NO!!! For heaven’s sake. I love Porte more than anybody, but he did absolutely what he was supposed to get the TEAM victory – not a solo victory – even if it was clear that he could have gone for it. This is exactly the same issue as last year when Froome had to drop back for Wiggins – but Porte was much more graceful and professional about it than Froome was in 2012. Meanwhile, in my privileged position at the Team Sky bus in the riders’ enclosure the previous day, my random Sky mechanic flirtee had told me they were going to keep Porte to a gentler time trial precisely so he could conserve energy to help Froome on Alpe d’Huez. This is the nature of cycling, and the reason I love it so much. Had Porte attacked his own leader I would have sent him a very shirty email about the loss of a small half-Cambodian girl’s affection.

Some funny things are going on in the group. Scary woman is being ganged up on by everyone else. She really is extremely aggressive, yet she has taken to Tam all of a sudden and is explaining science things to her and shouting about what good friends they are. And she seems to like me too. When we were sitting together (with a few others) at dinner last night, I was trying to work out what was going on. She was really rude to the waiter, and then got given no main course because she was typing when it was delivered. Everyone else rolled their eyes when she harrumphed that they were useless and had ignored her. I called the waiter over and got her dinner for her, and she looked at me and said “thank you” – and I suddenly saw what was happening – behind all her nastiness there is a whole well of terror. She can’t speak French but hates being out of control and showing it, so she attacks rather than make public her fear of being in strange situations. Once I got that, I relaxed a bit and decided it might be easier to help her out at times when she might panic, rather than let her go bonkers and then get torn about by the others, which is happening way too often now.

The other thing relates to weird Australian man. He also has suddenly started interacting really nicely (if oddly) with Tam – holding her hand and discussing the finer technical points of bicycles with her (she doesn’t understand a word but I’m not telling him that). But that’s by the by – what’s interesting to me here is that one woman in the group pulled me aside yesterday to say that she hated scary woman but also that “the other one I hate is James – he’s just so damned WEIRD.” He is certainly that. But let’s put aside the fact that I have no idea why she would think I would want to hear these opinions on another member of the group, and had done nothing to encourage her to share (I can only guess that it’s the insecure bullying thing of wanting everyone to validate your thoughts so you are safe being the strongest). The real point is: why the HELL does it bother you that he’s weird? I know I’ve typed on my blog that he’s weird – but nobody reading it knows him – he may as well be fictional. He doesn’t actually bother me that much in person – I don't see weird as a deal breaker as I'd be so screwed if it were – and I don’t want to discuss my reactions to him with other people in a small group. People feel so threatened by difference, but far worse than that they so often have to get others to back them up so they can feel safe in numbers from the people who throw their own lives into question. Bah, I say, bah.

Anyhow, all this is another reason I stayed home. [Yay, stage finish in safety for my guys!] Tam talks more sense than this shower of shit. Add it to the tiredness, the hangover and the slight humiliation at having been caught pissing in a field by the entire spectatorship of the Alpe d’Huez stage as they descended to the chairlifts, and you have a rambling blog today with photos of Tam paddling around and me looking old and tired.