So we’re sitting here in the riders’ enclosure, at around
1pm. It’s been a full-on day so far. Tam and Evan, the six-year-old boy, now can’t
be near each other without bickering. So that’s the end of that, at least for a
while. He is a snooty little bugger (am I biased? AM I?) and I have to admit
that Tam’s non-stop high-decibel inquisitive friendliness onslaught is
exhausting even for me – so a US private school only child with parents who are
clearly trying to make him a genius at everything is not likely to be receptive
all the time. He’s just mean, in my opinion. I’m on Tam’s side.
I had a row this morning with scary woman too. I always see
both sides of every argument, and can be persuaded to change my stance if the
arguments are valid. Sometimes this is a good trait, sometimes a bad one. Today
I was fed up with it and lashed out. Scary woman is a huge Lance fan. I let
that go as she ranted on about it, as everyone is entitled to a different
opinion to me (those who know me and cycling know just how much I loathe that
man and his sanctimonious hypocrisy – it’s the only subject I hate talking about
with non-cycling fans more than doping).
Then she sets off on Bradley Wiggins, and how Froome
deserved to win last year and was held up by Bradley. Well, crap, woman, crap.
I thought for a minute about how I’d let her have her opinion on this – but
then I realised my opinion wasn’t getting any airing on any subject, so I
bashed her a bit with Wiggins-ism. For god’s sake, a leader is chosen for a
reason, a team is built around a leader with roles in mind. Froome was
inconsistent last year, immature at times and prone to recurrent bouts of
bilharzia. And his push on Wiggins in the mountains, which many have
interpreted as an attempt to attack a weaker rider, I saw as an effort to push
a leader who was trying to conserve energy – and when Froome came back to
Wiggins as he was told to, this conservation proved to have worked: Wiggins –
and the team, more importantly – won the Tour de France. This had been the
objective, and Froome had his role in it – as a team member.
That’s not to say that I don’t like Chris Froome. He bugged
me last year but he’s grown on me – and not just because he’s winning. He’s
shown more maturity and an equanimity of spirit, and has worked well in the
team. He needed to learn some humility, and it seems he did. I’m glad he’s in
the jersey – and it’s not as if he had to wait long for the team to work around
him for the Tour! But don’t bash my Bradley otherwise I’ll bash you, scary
woman!
Meanwhile, the others all hate scary woman and are ganging
up on her. I’m not doing that, shit no. I hate ganging up and bullying – so the
rift between me and Tam and them is even bigger than before – and I’m calmer
now. Where I’m sitting now I can see loads of them and have no desire to get
involved in their silly conversations. My silly dribbling to self is way more
important.
If I thought the trip yesterday was vomitous, this one this
morning was vomitous maximus. Nightmare detour through the Alps. Absolutely
beautiful (of course I have used small child as an excuse to get the front seat
every journey), and I don’t get car sick, so I was fine. But I did have to
manage Tam, who fluctuated between high-volume Khmer songs straight down my ear
and trying to throw up down my cleavage.
Tam and I are taking it easy, with apples and bread and
water and computer and Kindle, waiting for Richie and Chris. Geraint had gone
by the time we got here, sadly. But a man in the Sky car saw Tam and beckoned
us over – she charmed him, and I dredged up some flirting skills (it was like
pulling up an algae-covered old boot from the bottom of a polluted lake) and apparently
we’re going to be able to meet him when he gets here – he’s going to try it for
us. Superb.
Later ….
Bleurgh.
On the positive side: Tam got a personal interview with
Richie Porte. My flirting is good for something. Sad that she wouldn’t get her
face out of my neck for the whole thing, but he came over, talked to her a lot
and was generally really nice. I took loads of photos: one example to the right –
apologies if it maaaay be a bit blurry – I got a bit
over-excited/starstruck/shaky handsish. Then I accidentally reset my phone. So,
no real photos of the event, no. Then he gave us his autograph and he also
waved at Tam while warming up. He did not bother with anyone else, hurrah!
Meanwhile, the NBC crew spotted Tam and tried to do a feature on her. Naturally,
her face went back into my neck, but we were nearly famous there!
I also saw (and photographed) Chris Froome and Contador, but
other than that I stayed under a tree to give Tam a quieter day. The results of
the time trial will be known, and again I did not learn of them from our day
out, so no point in reviewing that – I didn’t see anything that anyone else
didn’t. We watched the end in a bar where nobody wanted the rosbif to win.
On the negative side: we are totally fucking stuck in
traffic. I am typing this on a bus. Tam is asleep in my crotch. We will be back
at the hotel in about three hours (it’s already 7pm). Tam and I have eaten
nothing except an apple and a croissant since 7am today. And tomorrow looks
like a beast. We are leaving for Alpe d’Huez at 7am.
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