This day also involved the longest van journey. Our route took us through the Frejus Tunnel under Mt Blanc and into Italy (where we had the first good coffee for quite a while), then back over the Alps to the town of Briancon at the base of the climb.
The Devil at the bottom of the climb from Briancon.
The Thomson marquee for today was situated half-way up the climb, so it was an easy first part of the climb, replenish water bottles at the marquee and then complete the second, steeper, section to the col. I was riding up this section with Thomson staff members Kate and Claire when we overtook an English rider who tackled them about the quality of Thomson's van drivers, who he reckoned had come past him too close on the road. To Kate's credit she handled it beautifully, apologised, and promised to inform the Thomson management.
The guy continued to grumble so we accelerated and I asked Kate, in perhaps too loud a voice, if we had dropped him yet. Apparently not, he was on our shoulder. Kate then got a bug down her cycling top, said something most unladylike, and she and Claire pulled over, leaving me with the grump. He came past me, perhaps wishing to make a point, so I pulled up alongside him again and chatted in a convivial manner. We picked up the pace and, after a while, he did disappear.
The top of the climb was another sea of bikes and camper vans.
The Thomson marquee for today was situated half-way up the climb, so it was an easy first part of the climb, replenish water bottles at the marquee and then complete the second, steeper, section to the col. I was riding up this section with Thomson staff members Kate and Claire when we overtook an English rider who tackled them about the quality of Thomson's van drivers, who he reckoned had come past him too close on the road. To Kate's credit she handled it beautifully, apologised, and promised to inform the Thomson management.
The guy continued to grumble so we accelerated and I asked Kate, in perhaps too loud a voice, if we had dropped him yet. Apparently not, he was on our shoulder. Kate then got a bug down her cycling top, said something most unladylike, and she and Claire pulled over, leaving me with the grump. He came past me, perhaps wishing to make a point, so I pulled up alongside him again and chatted in a convivial manner. We picked up the pace and, after a while, he did disappear.
The top of the climb was another sea of bikes and camper vans.
A quick photo or two and it was back to the marquee for the drinks and lunch - they really do have a great team! Once again we watched the Tour on satellite TV, with an even bigger crowd outside the tent watching it over our heads.
Then back down the hill to the vans and the long drive back to Albertville. The end of a fantastic week with some wonderful memories and good friends made. Next year, will it be the Giro or the Pyrenees section of the Tour?
Then back down the hill to the vans and the long drive back to Albertville. The end of a fantastic week with some wonderful memories and good friends made. Next year, will it be the Giro or the Pyrenees section of the Tour?
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