Imagine if the stranger on whom Arthur has fallen asleep should turn out to be useful.
This occurs to Arthur as well.
He dreams that the stranger shakes him by the shoulder and says: My name is Radu. Come with me, and I will show you bizarre new species of spiders, scorpions, woodlice and centipedes living on a strange floating mat of bacteria.......
Arthur wakes up, feeling itchy.
As though he has been floating on a strange mat of bacteria.
And the stranger, on whom he has rested his head for an hour, says: Do I know you?
Turns out, the stranger has an interest in cycling.
They exchange bike talk, about the Tour de France, Froomey, and aluminium versus carbon fibre bike frames.
What are you doing in Bucharest? asks Radu.
Passing through, says Arthur. On my way to an underground cave in a barren featureless plain. Don't suppose you know where there might be a dive shop?
No, I don't, sorry, says Radu.
And this is where dreams differ unhelpfully from reality.
For if Arthur had fallen asleep in the other direction ( toppled right onto Nicolae instead of left onto Radu, for example), he would have fallen asleep on Nicolae, who knows the whereabouts of a dive shop, the Scuba Diver Centre on Soseaua Stefan Cel Mare, which supplies scuba equipment for lake and cave diving which is something they do a lot of, in Romania.
But Nicolae has left the night club already.
Eleven am. Gaius and Proust are sitting outside at the Café Van Gogh.
Gaius is drinking a glass of tap water. Proust is sipping a fresh lemonade sweetened with honey.
This cave, says Gaius. Have you considered it might be sealed off?
I have considered it, says Proust. In that case I shall make use of my contacts.
Shouldn't you make use of them now? says Gaius. While we're in civilisation?
No, I view this enterprise as a challenge. I'm already surprised by my tenacity, says Proust, coughing delicately, and wiping his lips with an aloe vera impregnated paper tissue, of which he has an endless supply in his pocket.
A fleeting thought visits Gaius. Why would a microbiologist be surprised by his own tenacity?
Arthur appears. The fleeting thought flits away.
Arthur! Well done. On time I see, says Gaius. Did you have a good night? You young people....
Arthur sits down, looking peaky.
Have a bite to eat, says Proust. The Italian burger with wedges looks nice.
Thank you, says Arthur.
Proust is taken aback. Does this mean Arthur thinks HE will fork out for an Italian burger with wedges?
Rather than look like a person who has made a basic social error of this kind, he orders and pays for Arthur's breakfast, proving that he, like an Italian burger, although in quite different circumstances, can also be nice.
And have you had time to organise our breathing apparatus? asks Proust.
Getting there, says Arthur.
What's this for? asks Gaius.
For diving in the murky waters of the lake, says Proust. To explore the rest of the cave, we must dive into the lake and follow the narrow underwater passageways, squeeze ourselves through tiny gaps where getting stuck could be lethal......
Right, says Gaius.
A word which does not adequately cover all he is thinking.
Sunday, July 31, 2016
Saturday, July 30, 2016
Plan For Remaining Alive Under Water
The plane has landed in Bucharest.
Proust, Gaius and Arthur take a bus to the Old Town.
I prefer the Old Town in any city, says Proust.
Provided there is an Old Town, says Gaius.
Of course there is, says Proust. We are going to it.
I mean, says Gaius, that not every city has one.
That goes without saying, says Proust.
Bored with the level of conversation, Arthur gazes out of the window.
He wonders if Proust had meant him to obtain three sets of breathing apparatus, or if he was joking.
After all, Proust had trained as a clown.
As the city lights flash past the window, Arthur imagines the imminent future:
He spends the night in the Old Town. He meets lots of cool people. Next morning he catches a train to a poisonous cave. If breathing apparatus is needed, he will obtain it at that point. Someone's bound to have left some equipment lying about.....
Arthur has already forgotten the reason he is here in the first place.
But he is about to be reminded.
His phone rings. It's Sweezus.
Hey, how's it going? asks Sweezus.
Good, says Arthur. We're in Bucharest, the Old Town.
What's Proust like? asks Sweezus. Are you taking notes?
Course I am, says Arthur, (who has not taken any). He's just said he prefers the Old Town in any city.
Awesome, says Sweezus. Have you written that down?
I don't need to, says Arthur. I've just told you. Why don't you write it down directly.
I just have, says Sweezus, but it's still better if........crackle....
Arthur has run out of battery.
The bus stops in the Old Town.
The Old Town is buzzing with bars, nightclubs, cafés. Electronic dance music pumps through the walls in sync with the heartbeats of students and expats.
See you in the morning, says Arthur.
Wait! says Proust. We need to make an arrangement to meet somewhere. Let's meet at the Van Gogh Café at nine...... no ten...... no make that eleven in the morning. I like to sleep in.
Eleven! says Gaius.
Proust ignores the implied criticism of his sleeping habits. He wonders whether he should remind Arthur of his task in regard to obtaining three sets of breathing apparatus but by the time he has got to the end of his wondering, Arthur has gone.
Which is a pity, because he had come to the following conclusion: He probably should have.
Let's find a backpackers' hostel, says Gaius. I could do with an early night.
First, a restaurant, says Proust. La Mama is said to be good.
Proust and Gaius are soon in La Mama eating delicious ciorba de burta (tripe soup), followed by tigaie picanta (hot pan).
Arthur is in a night club, meeting cool people. The cool people tell Arthur he should have been in Bucharest last night, when Iron Maiden was playing at the Constitution Piata.
Too bad.
The cool people buy Arthur a drink, and take him to another night club where Spitalul de Urgenta is playing Romanian music and hard edged rock.
The band sings Long Live The Beer. And another song which mentions green leaves and a tulip.
Good times.
Yes, his battery is flat. Yes, he has not written written any notes on Proust. No, he has no plan for remaining alive under water.....
But what does it matter. He closes his eyes and falls sleep on a stranger.
Proust, Gaius and Arthur take a bus to the Old Town.
I prefer the Old Town in any city, says Proust.
Provided there is an Old Town, says Gaius.
Of course there is, says Proust. We are going to it.
I mean, says Gaius, that not every city has one.
That goes without saying, says Proust.
Bored with the level of conversation, Arthur gazes out of the window.
He wonders if Proust had meant him to obtain three sets of breathing apparatus, or if he was joking.
After all, Proust had trained as a clown.
As the city lights flash past the window, Arthur imagines the imminent future:
He spends the night in the Old Town. He meets lots of cool people. Next morning he catches a train to a poisonous cave. If breathing apparatus is needed, he will obtain it at that point. Someone's bound to have left some equipment lying about.....
Arthur has already forgotten the reason he is here in the first place.
But he is about to be reminded.
His phone rings. It's Sweezus.
Hey, how's it going? asks Sweezus.
Good, says Arthur. We're in Bucharest, the Old Town.
What's Proust like? asks Sweezus. Are you taking notes?
Course I am, says Arthur, (who has not taken any). He's just said he prefers the Old Town in any city.
Awesome, says Sweezus. Have you written that down?
I don't need to, says Arthur. I've just told you. Why don't you write it down directly.
I just have, says Sweezus, but it's still better if........crackle....
Arthur has run out of battery.
The bus stops in the Old Town.
The Old Town is buzzing with bars, nightclubs, cafés. Electronic dance music pumps through the walls in sync with the heartbeats of students and expats.
See you in the morning, says Arthur.
Wait! says Proust. We need to make an arrangement to meet somewhere. Let's meet at the Van Gogh Café at nine...... no ten...... no make that eleven in the morning. I like to sleep in.
Eleven! says Gaius.
Proust ignores the implied criticism of his sleeping habits. He wonders whether he should remind Arthur of his task in regard to obtaining three sets of breathing apparatus but by the time he has got to the end of his wondering, Arthur has gone.
Which is a pity, because he had come to the following conclusion: He probably should have.
Let's find a backpackers' hostel, says Gaius. I could do with an early night.
First, a restaurant, says Proust. La Mama is said to be good.
Proust and Gaius are soon in La Mama eating delicious ciorba de burta (tripe soup), followed by tigaie picanta (hot pan).
Arthur is in a night club, meeting cool people. The cool people tell Arthur he should have been in Bucharest last night, when Iron Maiden was playing at the Constitution Piata.
Too bad.
The cool people buy Arthur a drink, and take him to another night club where Spitalul de Urgenta is playing Romanian music and hard edged rock.
The band sings Long Live The Beer. And another song which mentions green leaves and a tulip.
Good times.
Yes, his battery is flat. Yes, he has not written written any notes on Proust. No, he has no plan for remaining alive under water.....
But what does it matter. He closes his eyes and falls sleep on a stranger.
Friday, July 29, 2016
The Irritations Of Sugar
Two hours into the three hour Wizz Air flight to Bucharest, Gaius is snoozing.
And missing crucial information, since Proust has never stopped talking.
The main points may be summarised as follows:
1. Proust would never eat donuts.
2. Therefore not being granted one was unimportant.
3. In fact it served to prove his point in one way.
4. That he had asked for a donut simply to have the satisfaction of not being satisfied in that way.
Gaius fell asleep at point four. He is not accustomed to Proustian ramblings, but they do have a soporific rhythm (which sadly is lost in the summary).
Proust's musings, continued:
5: Proust would like some water.
6: He is even prepared to pay for it.
Proust pays for a bottle of Evian.
7: Drinking the Evian, Proust is reminded of springs.
8: He recalls at great length certain natural springs he has visited, the scent of plants growing nearby.
9: The memory of plant smells linked to water reminds him of where he is going, and why.
Now he is nearing the point in his monologue which would be of interest to Gaius, could he but hear it.
10: The descent to the cave will be dangerous.
11: It will be pitch dark, with a temperature around 29 degrees.
12: Proust does not like the dark much.
13: Nor does he like being hot.
14: The warm sulphidic water will stink of rotten eggs and burnt rubber.
15: High concentrations of carbon dioxide and hydrogen sulphide; only ten percent oxygen.
16: They will each need a breathing apparatus.
17: To the provision of which he has failed to give much attention.
How quickly the final hour passes. The crew is getting the aircraft ready for landing.
Gaius wakes up and heads off to the toilet.
Arthur sits down in Gaius's seat, smelling faintly of donuts.
Tiny crystals of confectioner's sugar glisten on his chin and the tip of his nose.
Proust would like to reach out and brush away the crystals of sugar, which annoy him for two reasons.
Instead he says: Have you visited Bucharest before?
No, I haven't, says Arthur
It is said to be like a 'little Paris'. They even have an Arcul de Triumf. And lively night clubs. And quite possibly.....
He reaches out..... he can't help himself..... flicks Arthur's nose, but gently.
What? says Arthur.
Somewhere one might obtain three sets of breathing apparatus, says Proust.
Good. It feels like a fait accompli.
And missing crucial information, since Proust has never stopped talking.
The main points may be summarised as follows:
1. Proust would never eat donuts.
2. Therefore not being granted one was unimportant.
3. In fact it served to prove his point in one way.
4. That he had asked for a donut simply to have the satisfaction of not being satisfied in that way.
Gaius fell asleep at point four. He is not accustomed to Proustian ramblings, but they do have a soporific rhythm (which sadly is lost in the summary).
Proust's musings, continued:
5: Proust would like some water.
6: He is even prepared to pay for it.
Proust pays for a bottle of Evian.
7: Drinking the Evian, Proust is reminded of springs.
8: He recalls at great length certain natural springs he has visited, the scent of plants growing nearby.
9: The memory of plant smells linked to water reminds him of where he is going, and why.
Now he is nearing the point in his monologue which would be of interest to Gaius, could he but hear it.
10: The descent to the cave will be dangerous.
11: It will be pitch dark, with a temperature around 29 degrees.
12: Proust does not like the dark much.
13: Nor does he like being hot.
14: The warm sulphidic water will stink of rotten eggs and burnt rubber.
15: High concentrations of carbon dioxide and hydrogen sulphide; only ten percent oxygen.
16: They will each need a breathing apparatus.
17: To the provision of which he has failed to give much attention.
How quickly the final hour passes. The crew is getting the aircraft ready for landing.
Gaius wakes up and heads off to the toilet.
Arthur sits down in Gaius's seat, smelling faintly of donuts.
Tiny crystals of confectioner's sugar glisten on his chin and the tip of his nose.
Proust would like to reach out and brush away the crystals of sugar, which annoy him for two reasons.
Instead he says: Have you visited Bucharest before?
No, I haven't, says Arthur
It is said to be like a 'little Paris'. They even have an Arcul de Triumf. And lively night clubs. And quite possibly.....
He reaches out..... he can't help himself..... flicks Arthur's nose, but gently.
What? says Arthur.
Somewhere one might obtain three sets of breathing apparatus, says Proust.
Good. It feels like a fait accompli.
Thursday, July 28, 2016
Angel In Exile
What a lovely plane, says Belle, looking out onto the tarmac. Pink and purple! Look, Arthur.
But Arthur is looking at Proust.
Eyelids like egg shells, dark eyebrows, hair parted almost in the middle, a stray black curl escaping.
From under eggshell eyelids Proust evaluates Arthur.
Pale blue eyes, shot with dark blue, unruly hair, scabby knees, dirty shorts with deep saggy pockets.
An angel in exile.
I'm coming with you to Bucharest, says Arthur.
But you don't have a ticket, says Gaius. Or do you?
I do, says Arthur. A stand-by.
Proust is impressed.
He would be less impressed to know how Arthur came by it.
Last call!
Bye now! says Belle. Have a lovely time in your poisonous cave!
The three adventurers board the Wizz Air Flight to Bucharest. One has no luggage.
The flight attendants love passengers who board without luggage.
Arthur is upgraded. And offered a complimentary drink.
Gaius and Proust sit in narrow seats with inadequate legroom.
Look at that, says Gaius. The lad leads a charmed existence. I wonder though, why he's coming?
I should like to think that he's coming in order to get to know me better, says Proust, but that cannot be the case as he had purchased his stand-by ticket before he laid eyes on me, eyes which I must admit are inscrutable.
That was a very long sentence, says Gaius.
Point taken, says Proust. No doubt he's coming to be of assistance to you.
Hmm. I usually have to persuade him, says Gaius.
The Wizz Air flight takes off. The snacks trolley comes round. You have to pay for everything, even the water.
No thanks, says Gaius. Too much water, and I might feel a pressing need to go to the toilet.
Very wise, says Proust. I believe once a Wizz Air passenger was told they could not go to the toilet.
How do you know this? asked Gaius. Were you on board yourself? Were you also prevented?
Trip Advisor, says Proust.
Ah, says Gaius. Have you made this trip often?
Never, says Proust.
I was under the impression that you knew about this cave from experience, says Gaius.
Wikipedia, says Proust. You would be surprised how much information is available at the tip of one's fingers as one lies comfortably in bed eating asparagus and beef-in-jelly.
I imagine I would be, says Gaius.
What I know about this cave, says Proust, would fill volumes.
Do go on, as I know very little, says Gaius.
In 1986, says Proust, a group of communist workers were checking out a barren plain not far from the Black Sea coast, to see if it would be suitable for a power plant, when they stumbled on the cave.
How fortuitous, says Gaius. Or maybe not, if it meant no power plant.
No doubt the power plant ended up somewhere, says Proust. So, the first person to make the dangerous descent was the Romanian scientist Cristian Lascu. Since then it has been sealed by the authorities and less than one hundred people have been allowed down there.
And you have permission! says Gaius. How did you manage it?
I don't have permission, says Proust. Not yet. But I can be very persuasive. Watch this. Steward!
A flight attendant stops on her way to the front of the plane with a tray of hot donuts.
I don't suppose, says Proust, opening wide his eggshell-like eyelids, that I could have one of those donuts, in exchange for a card trick? I am a trained clown.
Sorry, smiles the flight attendant. These are for the lovely young man up the front there...
But Arthur is looking at Proust.
Eyelids like egg shells, dark eyebrows, hair parted almost in the middle, a stray black curl escaping.
From under eggshell eyelids Proust evaluates Arthur.
Pale blue eyes, shot with dark blue, unruly hair, scabby knees, dirty shorts with deep saggy pockets.
An angel in exile.
I'm coming with you to Bucharest, says Arthur.
But you don't have a ticket, says Gaius. Or do you?
I do, says Arthur. A stand-by.
Proust is impressed.
He would be less impressed to know how Arthur came by it.
Last call!
Bye now! says Belle. Have a lovely time in your poisonous cave!
The three adventurers board the Wizz Air Flight to Bucharest. One has no luggage.
The flight attendants love passengers who board without luggage.
Arthur is upgraded. And offered a complimentary drink.
Gaius and Proust sit in narrow seats with inadequate legroom.
Look at that, says Gaius. The lad leads a charmed existence. I wonder though, why he's coming?
I should like to think that he's coming in order to get to know me better, says Proust, but that cannot be the case as he had purchased his stand-by ticket before he laid eyes on me, eyes which I must admit are inscrutable.
That was a very long sentence, says Gaius.
Point taken, says Proust. No doubt he's coming to be of assistance to you.
Hmm. I usually have to persuade him, says Gaius.
The Wizz Air flight takes off. The snacks trolley comes round. You have to pay for everything, even the water.
No thanks, says Gaius. Too much water, and I might feel a pressing need to go to the toilet.
Very wise, says Proust. I believe once a Wizz Air passenger was told they could not go to the toilet.
How do you know this? asked Gaius. Were you on board yourself? Were you also prevented?
Trip Advisor, says Proust.
Ah, says Gaius. Have you made this trip often?
Never, says Proust.
I was under the impression that you knew about this cave from experience, says Gaius.
Wikipedia, says Proust. You would be surprised how much information is available at the tip of one's fingers as one lies comfortably in bed eating asparagus and beef-in-jelly.
I imagine I would be, says Gaius.
What I know about this cave, says Proust, would fill volumes.
Do go on, as I know very little, says Gaius.
In 1986, says Proust, a group of communist workers were checking out a barren plain not far from the Black Sea coast, to see if it would be suitable for a power plant, when they stumbled on the cave.
How fortuitous, says Gaius. Or maybe not, if it meant no power plant.
No doubt the power plant ended up somewhere, says Proust. So, the first person to make the dangerous descent was the Romanian scientist Cristian Lascu. Since then it has been sealed by the authorities and less than one hundred people have been allowed down there.
And you have permission! says Gaius. How did you manage it?
I don't have permission, says Proust. Not yet. But I can be very persuasive. Watch this. Steward!
A flight attendant stops on her way to the front of the plane with a tray of hot donuts.
I don't suppose, says Proust, opening wide his eggshell-like eyelids, that I could have one of those donuts, in exchange for a card trick? I am a trained clown.
Sorry, smiles the flight attendant. These are for the lovely young man up the front there...
The Reliable Sausage Poem Inspirer
Gaius has gone back with Proust to his apartment.
While Proust packs a small bag, Gaius looks round the apartment.
It is very untidy. Scraps of paper and broken pencils litter the floor.
Wizz Air is very strict on baggage allowance, says Proust, discarding grey boxers and socks.
No bother, says Gaius. I'll leave my bike here. How far to the airport?
Eighty eight point nine kilometres, says Proust. We could take a taxi. It costs one hundred and thirty euros.
Waste of money, says Gaius. I won't leave my bike after all. Do you have one?
Only a trick monocycle, says Proust. It really won't do for that distance.
Never mind, says Gaius. You can perch on my back wheel.
But what will we do with the bike when we get there? asks Proust.
I'll call Arthur, says Gaius.
He calls Arthur.
Arthur is in Café George V with Belle and Sweezus, when his phone rings.
Da-da-da-DAH!
Yes? says Arthur. When? Where? Beauvais? Okay.
Was that Gaius? asks Sweezus. I thought he might ring you.
He just wants me to pick up his bike, says Arthur. He's flying somewhere.
To Romania, says Belle. With that clown, Marcel Proust.
Yeah, says Sweezus. Clown, literary giant and microbiologist. Who knew?
Romania? says Arthur. What's he going there for?
There's this poisonous underground cave in Constanta, says Belle. Full of horrid creepy crawlies.
New species of creepy crawlies, says Sweezus. That's why I thought he'd ask you.
Well, he didn't, says Arthur.
He still might, says Sweezus. If you get to the airport before they fly out. Are you going?
No, says Arthur. Why would I want to?
I would, says Sweezus. Travelling with Proust. You might get some tips.
I don't need tips, says Arthur. Why don't you go?
Broken collar bone, says Sweezus.
So, nobody goes.
Proust and Gaius arrive at Beauvais airport three hours before take off.
Wizz Air ground staff grimly measure their bags.
Gaius's bag is one centimetre too long lengthways, and five grams too heavy.
They insist that he takes something out.
Outrageous! says Gaius, eyeing his contents, all of which are essential.
In the end, he discards the fish glue. He can always make more.
They wait for Arthur.
This Arthur, is he reliable? asks Proust.
Oh, yes, says Gaius. Most reliable. If ever I mislay anything, a knife or a pencil, for example, as I do quite often, Arthur can be relied upon to replace it. Quite miraculously, in some cases.
What a gem, says Proust. Is this the Arthur Rimbaud who rides with Team Condor?
Yes, says Gaius. It is he. A competent rider, and a talented poet, along with his friend and fellow poet Pablo Neruda. In fact, Arthur was the inspiration for Pablo's Sausage Poem, which caused such a stir in the final stage of the Tour. Did you happen to hear it?
No I didn't, says Proust. How did it go?
I'm not good at these things, says Gaius, but it went something like this: swallow me fast, and...um... something about a moist tip inside... of course it was about a sausage, nothing saucy.
Proust is not convinced that the Sausage Poem is not saucy.
Time for boarding, and the reliable Sausage Poem inspirer has not yet appeared.
Last call for passengers for Wizz Air.....
Proust stands up. Gaius leans his bicycle against a wall. Is this goodbye to his relatively expensive road racer....?
But then.
Arthur and Belle appear in the departure lounge.
Gaius is relieved.
Belle takes charge of the bicycle.
Proust eyes off Arthur.
While Proust packs a small bag, Gaius looks round the apartment.
It is very untidy. Scraps of paper and broken pencils litter the floor.
Wizz Air is very strict on baggage allowance, says Proust, discarding grey boxers and socks.
No bother, says Gaius. I'll leave my bike here. How far to the airport?
Eighty eight point nine kilometres, says Proust. We could take a taxi. It costs one hundred and thirty euros.
Waste of money, says Gaius. I won't leave my bike after all. Do you have one?
Only a trick monocycle, says Proust. It really won't do for that distance.
Never mind, says Gaius. You can perch on my back wheel.
But what will we do with the bike when we get there? asks Proust.
I'll call Arthur, says Gaius.
He calls Arthur.
Arthur is in Café George V with Belle and Sweezus, when his phone rings.
Da-da-da-DAH!
Yes? says Arthur. When? Where? Beauvais? Okay.
Was that Gaius? asks Sweezus. I thought he might ring you.
He just wants me to pick up his bike, says Arthur. He's flying somewhere.
To Romania, says Belle. With that clown, Marcel Proust.
Yeah, says Sweezus. Clown, literary giant and microbiologist. Who knew?
Romania? says Arthur. What's he going there for?
There's this poisonous underground cave in Constanta, says Belle. Full of horrid creepy crawlies.
New species of creepy crawlies, says Sweezus. That's why I thought he'd ask you.
Well, he didn't, says Arthur.
He still might, says Sweezus. If you get to the airport before they fly out. Are you going?
No, says Arthur. Why would I want to?
I would, says Sweezus. Travelling with Proust. You might get some tips.
I don't need tips, says Arthur. Why don't you go?
Broken collar bone, says Sweezus.
So, nobody goes.
Proust and Gaius arrive at Beauvais airport three hours before take off.
Wizz Air ground staff grimly measure their bags.
Gaius's bag is one centimetre too long lengthways, and five grams too heavy.
They insist that he takes something out.
Outrageous! says Gaius, eyeing his contents, all of which are essential.
In the end, he discards the fish glue. He can always make more.
They wait for Arthur.
This Arthur, is he reliable? asks Proust.
Oh, yes, says Gaius. Most reliable. If ever I mislay anything, a knife or a pencil, for example, as I do quite often, Arthur can be relied upon to replace it. Quite miraculously, in some cases.
What a gem, says Proust. Is this the Arthur Rimbaud who rides with Team Condor?
Yes, says Gaius. It is he. A competent rider, and a talented poet, along with his friend and fellow poet Pablo Neruda. In fact, Arthur was the inspiration for Pablo's Sausage Poem, which caused such a stir in the final stage of the Tour. Did you happen to hear it?
No I didn't, says Proust. How did it go?
I'm not good at these things, says Gaius, but it went something like this: swallow me fast, and...um... something about a moist tip inside... of course it was about a sausage, nothing saucy.
Proust is not convinced that the Sausage Poem is not saucy.
Time for boarding, and the reliable Sausage Poem inspirer has not yet appeared.
Last call for passengers for Wizz Air.....
Proust stands up. Gaius leans his bicycle against a wall. Is this goodbye to his relatively expensive road racer....?
But then.
Arthur and Belle appear in the departure lounge.
Gaius is relieved.
Belle takes charge of the bicycle.
Proust eyes off Arthur.
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
Before You Can Properly Suck It
Marcel Proust takes Gaius to Le Café Triomphe.
They sit at a table outside. Marcel beckons a waiter.
L'habituel? asks the waiter.
D'accord, says Marcel.
The waiter brings lime blossom tea, and a small plate of madeleines.
Now tell me.... begins Gaius.
No wait, says Marcel. First, I must do this.
He picks up a madeleine, and dips it in his hot tea.
The tip of the madeleine becomes soggy and drops to the bottom of the teacup where lime blossoms are slowly unfurling.
Merde! says Marcel. The modern madeleine is too fresh, and the end drops off when dipped in the tea before you can properly suck it.
Let me try, says Gaius. He dips a tiny shell-shaped biscuit into his lime blossom tea, whips it expertly up to his mouth, and sucks it loudly.
Shwuuurp!
Marcel winces.
Does sucking it bring back any memories? he asks Gaius.
No, says Gaius. But next time it's bound to.
What do you mean? asks Marcel. How can it be that .... oh I see. You are having a joke with me to distract me from my disappointment and at the same time providing me with a gentle lesson, that if I try again, perhaps when the biscuit is older and staler, or the tea is cooler, I may yet recapture the memory...
I didn't mean that, says Gaius. I meant it will remind me of your long-windedness, with the result that.... jumping Jupiter, it's catching!
Sorry, says Marcel. What if I revert to clown mode?
Please do, says Gaius. And while you're in clown mode, perhaps you'll explain something to me.
What? asks Marcel. (Note: he has asked it briefly)
What was so funny about 'What a nice jester?' asks Gaius (because typically, he had failed to get it).
It sounds like 'What a nice gesture', says Marcel. Now do you get it?
A nice gesture? says Gaius. Your gesture, so-called, was to invite me to sit on a ball which was non-existent. Had I done so, I could have hurt myself badly. I had just ridden all the way from Chantilly, and had not yet warmed down.
Yes, and for that I am sorry, says Marcel. Let us put the past behind us and look to the future.
Agreed, says Gaius. Tell me more about this poisonous cave. How do we get there?
We fly to Bucharest, says Marcel. As you use the term 'we', I take it you're coming?
I normally travel by bicycle, says Gaius. Flights are expensive.
I get cheap flights with Wizz Air, says Marcel. A Hungarian airline. Only thirty euro per person.
That's very reasonable, says Gaius. And.... when we get there?
Marcel leans forward.
We travel to a barren featureless plain, below which lies the Morvine Cave, with its poisonous gases. We lower ourselves down a narrow shaft by means of a rope. The only light will be the light on our helmets......
He pauses.
The gleam in Proust's eye intercepts the gleam in the eye of Gaius Plinius Secundus.
Go on, says Gaius.
Proust picks up his tea cup.
We climb through narrow limestone tunnels, coated in ochre clay and emerge into a central cavern containing a lake which smells strongly of.........faugh! Waiter!
He has swallowed a mouthful of lime blossom tea-soaked fragments of madeleine biscuit.
How very unpleasant.
They sit at a table outside. Marcel beckons a waiter.
L'habituel? asks the waiter.
D'accord, says Marcel.
The waiter brings lime blossom tea, and a small plate of madeleines.
Now tell me.... begins Gaius.
No wait, says Marcel. First, I must do this.
He picks up a madeleine, and dips it in his hot tea.
The tip of the madeleine becomes soggy and drops to the bottom of the teacup where lime blossoms are slowly unfurling.
Merde! says Marcel. The modern madeleine is too fresh, and the end drops off when dipped in the tea before you can properly suck it.
Let me try, says Gaius. He dips a tiny shell-shaped biscuit into his lime blossom tea, whips it expertly up to his mouth, and sucks it loudly.
Shwuuurp!
Marcel winces.
Does sucking it bring back any memories? he asks Gaius.
No, says Gaius. But next time it's bound to.
What do you mean? asks Marcel. How can it be that .... oh I see. You are having a joke with me to distract me from my disappointment and at the same time providing me with a gentle lesson, that if I try again, perhaps when the biscuit is older and staler, or the tea is cooler, I may yet recapture the memory...
I didn't mean that, says Gaius. I meant it will remind me of your long-windedness, with the result that.... jumping Jupiter, it's catching!
Sorry, says Marcel. What if I revert to clown mode?
Please do, says Gaius. And while you're in clown mode, perhaps you'll explain something to me.
What? asks Marcel. (Note: he has asked it briefly)
What was so funny about 'What a nice jester?' asks Gaius (because typically, he had failed to get it).
It sounds like 'What a nice gesture', says Marcel. Now do you get it?
A nice gesture? says Gaius. Your gesture, so-called, was to invite me to sit on a ball which was non-existent. Had I done so, I could have hurt myself badly. I had just ridden all the way from Chantilly, and had not yet warmed down.
Yes, and for that I am sorry, says Marcel. Let us put the past behind us and look to the future.
Agreed, says Gaius. Tell me more about this poisonous cave. How do we get there?
We fly to Bucharest, says Marcel. As you use the term 'we', I take it you're coming?
I normally travel by bicycle, says Gaius. Flights are expensive.
I get cheap flights with Wizz Air, says Marcel. A Hungarian airline. Only thirty euro per person.
That's very reasonable, says Gaius. And.... when we get there?
Marcel leans forward.
We travel to a barren featureless plain, below which lies the Morvine Cave, with its poisonous gases. We lower ourselves down a narrow shaft by means of a rope. The only light will be the light on our helmets......
He pauses.
The gleam in Proust's eye intercepts the gleam in the eye of Gaius Plinius Secundus.
Go on, says Gaius.
Proust picks up his tea cup.
We climb through narrow limestone tunnels, coated in ochre clay and emerge into a central cavern containing a lake which smells strongly of.........faugh! Waiter!
He has swallowed a mouthful of lime blossom tea-soaked fragments of madeleine biscuit.
How very unpleasant.
Monday, July 25, 2016
Tour de France: Washup - Bizarre Creatures
It is yesterday, and still the final day of the grand Tour de France.
André Greipel has won the stage, and looks happy.
He brushes past the spectators, looking for someone to hug.
Team Sky rolls over the finish line, linked together like a grinning black caterpillar with a bright yellow Froome in the middle.
Look at them, says Sweezus. Lucky fucks.
Never mind them, says Belle. We need to find out what happened.
The clown is preparing to leave.
Gaius crosses the finish line, and comes over to see them. He stops on the clown's toe.
The clown grimaces.
Sorry, says Gaius. I have ridden a long way, and have spots before my eyes.
Bravo, says the clown. Let me take your bicycle. Sit down on this ball.
Gaius looks for the ball.
The clown is miming the shape of a ball.
A second clown comes over.
Why don't you sit down on his ball, says the second one.
I can't, says Gaius.
All the same, what a nice jester, says the second one.
Ha ha, laughs Sweezus. Nice jester! That's a good one.
Were you on the Buffon tour? asks Belle.
Yes, says the second clown. The whole time, we were in stitches!
The first clown laughs at the memory of being in stitches.
And this? asks Belle, pointing to the red spots on the back of Terence's shorts.
Ask ME, says Terence. They stuck PINS in me.
Did you? asks Belle.
Yes, and instantly regretted it, says the first clown. We did not know the child was so hard. Do you know what it feels like to have the fat end of a pin pierce your finger? The fat end?
Woah! says Sweezus. Fully painful.
Nonsense, says Gaius. The fat end is not sharp.
The first clown presents several fingers, pocked with fat-end-of-pin lesions.
Gaius is forced to apologise.
Apology accepted, says the first clown. Well, I must be going.
Do you live here in Paris? asks Gaius.
I do, but I'm off to Romania, says the first clown. There's a poisonous cave in Constanta I wish to explore. It has been sealed for over five million years, and some bizarre creatures have evolved there, although there is no source of food.
Really? says Gaius. Bizarre creatures are also my interest.
Gaius is a natural historian, says Belle. He's famous.
Gaius Plinius Secundus, at your service, says Gaius. And you are?
Marcel Proust, says the clown. These days I am a microbiologist, but in previous times I used to spend a great deal of time tucked up in bed, surrounded by notebooks, dredging up past memories, until I came to realise that there would be, should I not do something worth remembering, precious little worthwhile to remember.
So you took up clowning and microbiology, says Gaius. Very commendable. This cave interests me.
Let us talk further.
All right says Marcel. I know a nice little café where we can have tea and madeleines, the very same madeleines, that in times past my aunt.........
They go off together.
You hear that? says Sweezus.
Proust, says Belle. What a turn up.
What's a turnip? says Terence.
A root vegetable, says the second clown.
(Which is true, and not even funny).
André Greipel has won the stage, and looks happy.
He brushes past the spectators, looking for someone to hug.
Team Sky rolls over the finish line, linked together like a grinning black caterpillar with a bright yellow Froome in the middle.
Look at them, says Sweezus. Lucky fucks.
Never mind them, says Belle. We need to find out what happened.
The clown is preparing to leave.
Gaius crosses the finish line, and comes over to see them. He stops on the clown's toe.
The clown grimaces.
Sorry, says Gaius. I have ridden a long way, and have spots before my eyes.
Bravo, says the clown. Let me take your bicycle. Sit down on this ball.
Gaius looks for the ball.
The clown is miming the shape of a ball.
A second clown comes over.
Why don't you sit down on his ball, says the second one.
I can't, says Gaius.
All the same, what a nice jester, says the second one.
Ha ha, laughs Sweezus. Nice jester! That's a good one.
Were you on the Buffon tour? asks Belle.
Yes, says the second clown. The whole time, we were in stitches!
The first clown laughs at the memory of being in stitches.
And this? asks Belle, pointing to the red spots on the back of Terence's shorts.
Ask ME, says Terence. They stuck PINS in me.
Did you? asks Belle.
Yes, and instantly regretted it, says the first clown. We did not know the child was so hard. Do you know what it feels like to have the fat end of a pin pierce your finger? The fat end?
Woah! says Sweezus. Fully painful.
Nonsense, says Gaius. The fat end is not sharp.
The first clown presents several fingers, pocked with fat-end-of-pin lesions.
Gaius is forced to apologise.
Apology accepted, says the first clown. Well, I must be going.
Do you live here in Paris? asks Gaius.
I do, but I'm off to Romania, says the first clown. There's a poisonous cave in Constanta I wish to explore. It has been sealed for over five million years, and some bizarre creatures have evolved there, although there is no source of food.
Really? says Gaius. Bizarre creatures are also my interest.
Gaius is a natural historian, says Belle. He's famous.
Gaius Plinius Secundus, at your service, says Gaius. And you are?
Marcel Proust, says the clown. These days I am a microbiologist, but in previous times I used to spend a great deal of time tucked up in bed, surrounded by notebooks, dredging up past memories, until I came to realise that there would be, should I not do something worth remembering, precious little worthwhile to remember.
So you took up clowning and microbiology, says Gaius. Very commendable. This cave interests me.
Let us talk further.
All right says Marcel. I know a nice little café where we can have tea and madeleines, the very same madeleines, that in times past my aunt.........
They go off together.
You hear that? says Sweezus.
Proust, says Belle. What a turn up.
What's a turnip? says Terence.
A root vegetable, says the second clown.
(Which is true, and not even funny).
Sunday, July 24, 2016
Tour de France 21: Chantilly to Champs Elysées - Mechanical
At last the tour is nearly over.
There only remains the last day.
The riders ride out of Chantilly, in the sunshine.
Riders from different teams surround Pablo.
He is reciting his Sausage Poem, to gauge its effect on the public The riders are laughing.....
Swallow me fast and keep going
I'll stay warm inside you
the moist tip of my...
Oh! It's too naughty! Let's move on.
Arthur is riding with Gaius. Gaius is feeling expansive.
Were I not committed to honesty, says Gaius, I would praise your efforts in leading Team Condor.
Is that a compliment? says Arthur.
To me, says Gaius.
Vello and David and Marx are riding in tandem, drinking champagne.
They veer to the left and the right of the streets of Chantilly, in unison.
This is what makes it worthwhile, says Vello.
Brrp! agrees David, loudly.
Stop it! cries Marx, to the parrot on his shoulder.
If you would keep a straight course, says the parrot.
Very funny, says Marx. Keep your talons open. Or fly to Paris.
All right, says the Elegant Parrot. I will. And there I shall watch the women.
Women, says Vello. Ah, yes, the women!
He wobbles, thinking of women with strong thighs and calf muscles pounding the cobbles....
The parrot flies off towards Paris, thinking the same.
The Tour de France riders continue, and these things happen.
Burghart has a mechanical.
Kittel has a mechanical too.
Tony Martin withdraws with a knee injury.
In a breakaway, Coquard has a flat tyre.
Too bad guys. I think I might follow the parrot.
.......
In Paris. The women are pounding the cobbles. Round and round they go.
Towards the end there are several crashes.
The parrot observes the piles of spreadeagled women.
No one looks familiar.
That's good.
Why it's good, she does not ask herself.
Chloe Hosking powers home. An Australian rider, from Team Wiggle Hi 5.
Why this is good, the parrot does not need to ask herself, being a bird of the Coorong.
The road clears. It will be a while before the men come.
She perches on a barrier.
A bus arrives. Buffon Tours. Clowns descend from it, rubbing their bottoms.
There's Terence! She flutters to meet him.
But Terence has seen Sweezus and Belle. He is running towards them.
One of the clowns breaks away from the gaggle, and reaches a long arm out to Terence.
It's not even a real arm. It's a mechanical.
Wah! cries Terence. Get way from me!
Terence! cries Belle. Darling! What's happened!
Rien, madame, says the clown, fetching up on the pavement in front of Belle, Terence and Sweezus, and below the parrot. Je veux dire au revoir à l'enfant.
The clown makes a show of retracting his mechanical arm, but shows no sign of leaving.
Du sang, says the clown, pointing to Terence's shorts.
Yes, there are a few red spots there. This needs investigating.
But wait, here come André Greipel, Peter Sagan, Alex Kristoff.......
There only remains the last day.
The riders ride out of Chantilly, in the sunshine.
Riders from different teams surround Pablo.
He is reciting his Sausage Poem, to gauge its effect on the public The riders are laughing.....
Swallow me fast and keep going
I'll stay warm inside you
the moist tip of my...
Oh! It's too naughty! Let's move on.
Arthur is riding with Gaius. Gaius is feeling expansive.
Were I not committed to honesty, says Gaius, I would praise your efforts in leading Team Condor.
Is that a compliment? says Arthur.
To me, says Gaius.
Vello and David and Marx are riding in tandem, drinking champagne.
They veer to the left and the right of the streets of Chantilly, in unison.
This is what makes it worthwhile, says Vello.
Brrp! agrees David, loudly.
Stop it! cries Marx, to the parrot on his shoulder.
If you would keep a straight course, says the parrot.
Very funny, says Marx. Keep your talons open. Or fly to Paris.
All right, says the Elegant Parrot. I will. And there I shall watch the women.
Women, says Vello. Ah, yes, the women!
He wobbles, thinking of women with strong thighs and calf muscles pounding the cobbles....
The parrot flies off towards Paris, thinking the same.
The Tour de France riders continue, and these things happen.
Burghart has a mechanical.
Kittel has a mechanical too.
Tony Martin withdraws with a knee injury.
In a breakaway, Coquard has a flat tyre.
Too bad guys. I think I might follow the parrot.
.......
In Paris. The women are pounding the cobbles. Round and round they go.
Towards the end there are several crashes.
The parrot observes the piles of spreadeagled women.
No one looks familiar.
That's good.
Why it's good, she does not ask herself.
Chloe Hosking powers home. An Australian rider, from Team Wiggle Hi 5.
Why this is good, the parrot does not need to ask herself, being a bird of the Coorong.
The road clears. It will be a while before the men come.
She perches on a barrier.
A bus arrives. Buffon Tours. Clowns descend from it, rubbing their bottoms.
There's Terence! She flutters to meet him.
But Terence has seen Sweezus and Belle. He is running towards them.
One of the clowns breaks away from the gaggle, and reaches a long arm out to Terence.
It's not even a real arm. It's a mechanical.
Wah! cries Terence. Get way from me!
Terence! cries Belle. Darling! What's happened!
Rien, madame, says the clown, fetching up on the pavement in front of Belle, Terence and Sweezus, and below the parrot. Je veux dire au revoir à l'enfant.
The clown makes a show of retracting his mechanical arm, but shows no sign of leaving.
Du sang, says the clown, pointing to Terence's shorts.
Yes, there are a few red spots there. This needs investigating.
But wait, here come André Greipel, Peter Sagan, Alex Kristoff.......
Saturday, July 23, 2016
Tour de France 20: Megève to Morzine-Avoriaz - Swallow Me Fast
Early morning. Last day of climbing. The weather forecast is: rain and storms, heavy in parts.
Sweezus is giving Team Condor a pep talk:
Sweezus: Now, I reckon....
Gaius: We should try and maintain our positions.
Sweezus: Yeah. And take rain jackets.
Arthur: I haven't got one.
Sweezus: Take mine.
Pablo: That is good for him. But I do not have one.
Gaius: Take mine, Pablo.
Sweezus: Then you won't have one.
Gaius: Where's Terence this morning?
Sweezus: Still on the bus tour.
Gaius: Where were they going?
Sweezus: Dunno. Belle knows. Anyway, guys, good luck and remember, Froomey is injured.
......
At Team Sky:
Froomey: Ow Ow.
Thomas: Stop whinging.
Kyryienka: Yeah. We'll look after you.
Landa: It's the virtual last day.
Froome: I KNOW that!
Stannard: Relax. Deeeeeep breathing!
Froomey (taking a deep breath): Let's DO THIS!
Team Sky: Okay!
......
At Team Philosophe:
Vello: I'm not looking forward to the weather.
David: Neither am I.
Marx: Come on boys. The only antidote to mental suffering is physical pain.
David: Who says we're mentally suffering?
Marx: I do.
David: If we are, it's your fault.
Belle: All ready for today?
Vello: Yes, dear. Have you provided some extra nice snacks?
Belle: Not yet. I've been talking to Terence's parrot. She saw him on the bus yesterday.
Marx: Whatever possessed you to put him on a bus tour?
Belle: It's the Buffon tour. I thought he'd like it.
Vello: Ha ha.The Buffon tour!
Marx: What is this Buffon tour which is so funny?
Belle: Every year the tour organisers gather up all the clowns who've been injured by riders and give them a tour. It's by way of a thank you.
Marx: Good lord. What for?
Vello: Keeping quiet.
David: Very sensible, if you ask me. And how was Terence enjoying it?
Belle: In his element. Sitting on a clown's knee. Holding court probably.
Vello: Hmm. You're very trusting of clowns.
Belle: But papa. They're all injured. Now I'm off to the shops. See you at the first feed station!
David: Get something hot!
.......
The race.
There are four cols to get up. De Ghent crests the col des Aravis first.
Secondly he sprints to first place on the col de la Colombière.
Thirdly he is first over the col de Ramaz.
But he will not be King of the Mountain. The maths is already decided.
On the last col, the Joux-Plane, it is now between Nibali, Pantano, and Izigirre.
Izigirre rides way from Nibali and Pantano on the downhill, to win the stage for Spain, the tenth nation to win a stage this year.
As to the rest:
Team Condor maintains its position, somewhere in the middle.
Gaius gets wet.
Arthur is caught by Pablo on his smart phone eating a sausage.
Pablo composes a sausage poem, called Swallow Me Fast And Keep Going.
Team Philosphe also maintains its position, somewhere near the back.
Marx has annoyed his team mates with an inappropriate Marxist aphorism.
Capital is dead labour.
As if this will help them win the Tour!
Team Sky nurses Froomey to victory.
This is how it works though.
There is much to be said for dead labour.
Sweezus is giving Team Condor a pep talk:
Sweezus: Now, I reckon....
Gaius: We should try and maintain our positions.
Sweezus: Yeah. And take rain jackets.
Arthur: I haven't got one.
Sweezus: Take mine.
Pablo: That is good for him. But I do not have one.
Gaius: Take mine, Pablo.
Sweezus: Then you won't have one.
Gaius: Where's Terence this morning?
Sweezus: Still on the bus tour.
Gaius: Where were they going?
Sweezus: Dunno. Belle knows. Anyway, guys, good luck and remember, Froomey is injured.
......
At Team Sky:
Froomey: Ow Ow.
Thomas: Stop whinging.
Kyryienka: Yeah. We'll look after you.
Landa: It's the virtual last day.
Froome: I KNOW that!
Stannard: Relax. Deeeeeep breathing!
Froomey (taking a deep breath): Let's DO THIS!
Team Sky: Okay!
......
At Team Philosophe:
Vello: I'm not looking forward to the weather.
David: Neither am I.
Marx: Come on boys. The only antidote to mental suffering is physical pain.
David: Who says we're mentally suffering?
Marx: I do.
David: If we are, it's your fault.
Belle: All ready for today?
Vello: Yes, dear. Have you provided some extra nice snacks?
Belle: Not yet. I've been talking to Terence's parrot. She saw him on the bus yesterday.
Marx: Whatever possessed you to put him on a bus tour?
Belle: It's the Buffon tour. I thought he'd like it.
Vello: Ha ha.The Buffon tour!
Marx: What is this Buffon tour which is so funny?
Belle: Every year the tour organisers gather up all the clowns who've been injured by riders and give them a tour. It's by way of a thank you.
Marx: Good lord. What for?
Vello: Keeping quiet.
David: Very sensible, if you ask me. And how was Terence enjoying it?
Belle: In his element. Sitting on a clown's knee. Holding court probably.
Vello: Hmm. You're very trusting of clowns.
Belle: But papa. They're all injured. Now I'm off to the shops. See you at the first feed station!
David: Get something hot!
.......
The race.
There are four cols to get up. De Ghent crests the col des Aravis first.
Secondly he sprints to first place on the col de la Colombière.
Thirdly he is first over the col de Ramaz.
But he will not be King of the Mountain. The maths is already decided.
On the last col, the Joux-Plane, it is now between Nibali, Pantano, and Izigirre.
Izigirre rides way from Nibali and Pantano on the downhill, to win the stage for Spain, the tenth nation to win a stage this year.
As to the rest:
Team Condor maintains its position, somewhere in the middle.
Gaius gets wet.
Arthur is caught by Pablo on his smart phone eating a sausage.
Pablo composes a sausage poem, called Swallow Me Fast And Keep Going.
Team Philosphe also maintains its position, somewhere near the back.
Marx has annoyed his team mates with an inappropriate Marxist aphorism.
Capital is dead labour.
As if this will help them win the Tour!
Team Sky nurses Froomey to victory.
This is how it works though.
There is much to be said for dead labour.
Friday, July 22, 2016
Tour de France 19: Albertville to Saint-Gervais Mont Blanc - Love and Crashes
The riders stream out of Albertville.
All hoping to stay out of trouble.
Marx finds himself beside Gaius.
A nervous day for the climbers, observes Marx.
Not at all, says Gaius. As long as we stay out of trouble.
Marx didn't know Gaius fancied himself a climber.
He smirks in Gaius's general direction.
Gaius doesn't notice.
Terence said a funny thing to me yesterday, says Marx.
Funny little chap,Terence, says Gaius. What did he say?
You think you're in it, when you're not in it, says Marx. I thought about it all day.
That's why you did badly in the time trial, says Gaius. You needed to focus.
You didn't do too well yourself, says Marx.
Not for want of trying, says Gaius, zooming off into an early breakaway.
Froome pedals up behind Marx.
Your grandson is a bright little fellow, says Froome.
What are you talking about? snaps Marx.
He doesn't like Froomey.
Terence, says Froome. I had the pleasure of looking after him yesterday.
Damn that parrot, says Marx. Never trust a parrot.
Froomey's team mates ride up and engulf him.
Marx catches up with Vello and David.
Seen the parrot? asks Marx.
David looks upwards.
Magnificent mountains, says David. But no....
There she is! cries Vello.
The parrot is flying above them, following the road.
What's she up to? mutters Marx. Why isn't she minding young Terence?
Terence is on a bus tour of the Savoie, says Vello. Belle booked him on it.
Marx is surprised. A bus tour?
Flying above the riders, the Elegant Parrot enjoys a helicopter's eye panorama.
The sharp Alps are spread out all around her. A blue lake lies placidly below.
She tries to see herself in it. Is that me? Or another?
She thinks of the slim and beautiful dove. She thinks of the golden eagle.
She's keeping an eye out.
The clouds gather. Rain increases.
The road becomes slippery.
Way down there, the Elegant Parrot can see Arthur and Pablo, munching on something.
They don't seem to be trying too hard.
She continues observing. Oh dear, poor Tom Dumoulin has crashed, and injured his wrist.
Good gracious. Now Rolland is down.
Porte is involved in a crash that takes Reichenbach to the ground.
And now Froome and Nibali have skidded on the paint, and are sliding all over the roadway.
Well, she doesn't care, really.
But it's wet now. There's Buckley's chance of meeting a fast, hot, majestic and skinny golden eagle in this downpour.
She leaves the course and flies over the mountains until she sees a tour bus.
Ah. That'll be Terence's.
She swoops down and peers into one of the windows.
Most of the passengers are bandaged, and all (except Terence) are clowns.
No doubt he's in his element.
She flies back to Saint-Gervais in time to see Romain Bardet win Stage 19 for France.
All hoping to stay out of trouble.
Marx finds himself beside Gaius.
A nervous day for the climbers, observes Marx.
Not at all, says Gaius. As long as we stay out of trouble.
Marx didn't know Gaius fancied himself a climber.
He smirks in Gaius's general direction.
Gaius doesn't notice.
Terence said a funny thing to me yesterday, says Marx.
Funny little chap,Terence, says Gaius. What did he say?
You think you're in it, when you're not in it, says Marx. I thought about it all day.
That's why you did badly in the time trial, says Gaius. You needed to focus.
You didn't do too well yourself, says Marx.
Not for want of trying, says Gaius, zooming off into an early breakaway.
Froome pedals up behind Marx.
Your grandson is a bright little fellow, says Froome.
What are you talking about? snaps Marx.
He doesn't like Froomey.
Terence, says Froome. I had the pleasure of looking after him yesterday.
Damn that parrot, says Marx. Never trust a parrot.
Froomey's team mates ride up and engulf him.
Marx catches up with Vello and David.
Seen the parrot? asks Marx.
David looks upwards.
Magnificent mountains, says David. But no....
There she is! cries Vello.
The parrot is flying above them, following the road.
What's she up to? mutters Marx. Why isn't she minding young Terence?
Terence is on a bus tour of the Savoie, says Vello. Belle booked him on it.
Marx is surprised. A bus tour?
Flying above the riders, the Elegant Parrot enjoys a helicopter's eye panorama.
The sharp Alps are spread out all around her. A blue lake lies placidly below.
She tries to see herself in it. Is that me? Or another?
She thinks of the slim and beautiful dove. She thinks of the golden eagle.
She's keeping an eye out.
The clouds gather. Rain increases.
The road becomes slippery.
Way down there, the Elegant Parrot can see Arthur and Pablo, munching on something.
They don't seem to be trying too hard.
She continues observing. Oh dear, poor Tom Dumoulin has crashed, and injured his wrist.
Good gracious. Now Rolland is down.
Porte is involved in a crash that takes Reichenbach to the ground.
And now Froome and Nibali have skidded on the paint, and are sliding all over the roadway.
Well, she doesn't care, really.
But it's wet now. There's Buckley's chance of meeting a fast, hot, majestic and skinny golden eagle in this downpour.
She leaves the course and flies over the mountains until she sees a tour bus.
Ah. That'll be Terence's.
She swoops down and peers into one of the windows.
Most of the passengers are bandaged, and all (except Terence) are clowns.
No doubt he's in his element.
She flies back to Saint-Gervais in time to see Romain Bardet win Stage 19 for France.
Thursday, July 21, 2016
Tour de France 18: Time Trials Sallaches to Megève - Win It
Uphill time trials. Everyone has a plan.
But Froomey is keeping his quiet, because he's the top GC rider, and he's riding last.
He strolls around near the start point, with nothing to do.
He walks by Belle and Sweezus, who are talking.
Belle: Oh come ON! Just a nice little hike in the mountains.
Sweezus: But I ought to stay here.
Belle: Team Condor is perfectly capable of looking after themselves in a time trial.
Sweezus: Yeah, but Terence....
Belle: Arthur should never have let him climb on the back.
Sweezus: I know, but...
Belle: You just don't want to go hiking.
Froome: He probably shouldn't. Not with that broken collar bone.
Belle: Oh, hello Froomey. Don't be ridiculous. It's only hiking.
Froome: Hiking's hard work in these mountains.
Belle: Ha ha. You are funny. Shouldn't you be warming up or something?
Froome: Not yet. I'm the last rider. I've actually got nothing to do for ages.
Belle: How would you like to look after Terence, while Sweezie and I go for hike in the mountains?
Froome: Where is Terence?
Belle: Over there talking to Arthur. Oh quick, before Arthur lets him jump on.
Sweezus: Chill, Belle. Arthur's not bothered.
Froome: Wish I had his temperament.
Belle: Arthur's! No you don't, Froomey.
Froome: Only kidding. My temperament's okay. I make my plans. And I stay out of trouble.
Sweezus: Arthur makes plans, but he doesn't stay out of trouble.
Belle: Stop nattering! Go and get Terence.
Quatre, trois, deux, un ....( mumble)! Arthur rolls down the shute at the start of his time trial.
He feels light. Lighter than expected.
A good start.
Retrospectively, he includes lightness, due to not carrying Terence, as part of his plan.
He rides hard up the Côte de Domancy, and tires himself out.
Terence meanwhile has been whipped off the start chute by Sweezus, and delivered to Froome.
Belle: Are you sure, Froomey? This is awfully nice of you.
Froome: I'm a nice guy.
Terence: It wasn't fair.
Froome: What wasn't?
Terence: Arthur was going to tell me the rest of the story. About the rabbits. And now look.
Belle: Bye bye! We'll be back before the start of your time trial.
Sweezus: Yeah, see ya, Froomey.
Froome: So, what was this story? Maybe I can finish it.
(Wow! He IS a nice guy!)
Terence: There was a daddy rabbit and a baby rabbit and they lived by a busy road and the baby rabbit didn't come home for tea so the daddy rabbit ran over the road to find him.
Froome: Is that where Arthur stopped telling the story?
Terence: No. And he found him and he was crying, and they had to get back.
Froome: Do I start now?
Terence: No. It was DARK and there were big noisy lorries and flashing lights and tooting.
Froome: And?
Terence: The daddy said RUN! and the baby rabbit scampered, with the daddy right behind him.
Froome; And they made it?
Terence: The baby made it. The daddy was mangled.
Froome: Well that kind of strikes me as the end of the story.
Terence: NOOO! Arthur said he would tell me!
Froome tries to imagine what Arthur was going to tell Terence.
Froome: You know how sometimes we think someone's dead but he isn't?
Terence: Yes! Saint Joseph!
Froome: Okay. Well the daddy rabbit was only injured. He was taken to hospital, and he got better, and then he went home to his family.
Terence: Yes, that was what happened. And he started whacking me the very next day.
Froome: You identify too much with the story.
Terence: What does that mean?
Froome: You think you're in it, when you're not in it.
Terence: I'm going to tell grandpa.
Froome: What?
Terence: You think you're in it when you're not in it.
Froome: He might take it the wrong way. Who is your grandpa?
Terence: Grandpa Marx. He's shaved all his hair off. That's him over there.
Froome: Well it's time for me to warm up now. Want to watch me?
Terence: No, I'm going to see grandpa. Ha ha. Grandpa thinks he knows everything.
Froome goes off to warm up. Terence goes over to tell Marx he thinks he is in it when he's not.
Which Marx thinks is rather good, and is still turning over in his head as he flies down the shute at the start of his time trial.
With the result that he thinks he is in it but he's really not in it.
Froome, riding last of all, carries out his plan.
Which is: Win it.
But Froomey is keeping his quiet, because he's the top GC rider, and he's riding last.
He strolls around near the start point, with nothing to do.
He walks by Belle and Sweezus, who are talking.
Belle: Oh come ON! Just a nice little hike in the mountains.
Sweezus: But I ought to stay here.
Belle: Team Condor is perfectly capable of looking after themselves in a time trial.
Sweezus: Yeah, but Terence....
Belle: Arthur should never have let him climb on the back.
Sweezus: I know, but...
Belle: You just don't want to go hiking.
Froome: He probably shouldn't. Not with that broken collar bone.
Belle: Oh, hello Froomey. Don't be ridiculous. It's only hiking.
Froome: Hiking's hard work in these mountains.
Belle: Ha ha. You are funny. Shouldn't you be warming up or something?
Froome: Not yet. I'm the last rider. I've actually got nothing to do for ages.
Belle: How would you like to look after Terence, while Sweezie and I go for hike in the mountains?
Froome: Where is Terence?
Belle: Over there talking to Arthur. Oh quick, before Arthur lets him jump on.
Sweezus: Chill, Belle. Arthur's not bothered.
Froome: Wish I had his temperament.
Belle: Arthur's! No you don't, Froomey.
Froome: Only kidding. My temperament's okay. I make my plans. And I stay out of trouble.
Sweezus: Arthur makes plans, but he doesn't stay out of trouble.
Belle: Stop nattering! Go and get Terence.
Quatre, trois, deux, un ....( mumble)! Arthur rolls down the shute at the start of his time trial.
He feels light. Lighter than expected.
A good start.
Retrospectively, he includes lightness, due to not carrying Terence, as part of his plan.
He rides hard up the Côte de Domancy, and tires himself out.
Terence meanwhile has been whipped off the start chute by Sweezus, and delivered to Froome.
Belle: Are you sure, Froomey? This is awfully nice of you.
Froome: I'm a nice guy.
Terence: It wasn't fair.
Froome: What wasn't?
Terence: Arthur was going to tell me the rest of the story. About the rabbits. And now look.
Belle: Bye bye! We'll be back before the start of your time trial.
Sweezus: Yeah, see ya, Froomey.
Froome: So, what was this story? Maybe I can finish it.
(Wow! He IS a nice guy!)
Terence: There was a daddy rabbit and a baby rabbit and they lived by a busy road and the baby rabbit didn't come home for tea so the daddy rabbit ran over the road to find him.
Froome: Is that where Arthur stopped telling the story?
Terence: No. And he found him and he was crying, and they had to get back.
Froome: Do I start now?
Terence: No. It was DARK and there were big noisy lorries and flashing lights and tooting.
Froome: And?
Terence: The daddy said RUN! and the baby rabbit scampered, with the daddy right behind him.
Froome; And they made it?
Terence: The baby made it. The daddy was mangled.
Froome: Well that kind of strikes me as the end of the story.
Terence: NOOO! Arthur said he would tell me!
Froome tries to imagine what Arthur was going to tell Terence.
Froome: You know how sometimes we think someone's dead but he isn't?
Terence: Yes! Saint Joseph!
Froome: Okay. Well the daddy rabbit was only injured. He was taken to hospital, and he got better, and then he went home to his family.
Terence: Yes, that was what happened. And he started whacking me the very next day.
Froome: You identify too much with the story.
Terence: What does that mean?
Froome: You think you're in it, when you're not in it.
Terence: I'm going to tell grandpa.
Froome: What?
Terence: You think you're in it when you're not in it.
Froome: He might take it the wrong way. Who is your grandpa?
Terence: Grandpa Marx. He's shaved all his hair off. That's him over there.
Froome: Well it's time for me to warm up now. Want to watch me?
Terence: No, I'm going to see grandpa. Ha ha. Grandpa thinks he knows everything.
Froome goes off to warm up. Terence goes over to tell Marx he thinks he is in it when he's not.
Which Marx thinks is rather good, and is still turning over in his head as he flies down the shute at the start of his time trial.
With the result that he thinks he is in it but he's really not in it.
Froome, riding last of all, carries out his plan.
Which is: Win it.
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
Tour de France 17: Berne to Finhaut-Emosson - Fast and Skinny
The riders feel energised after the rest day, and ready for four days of climbing.
The snow covered Alps loom in the background.
Do they face inwards or outwards?
No human knows.
The Elegant Parrot is full of remorse for yesterday's error.
Terence hasn't slept well last night.
Parrot: Shall I tell you a story?
Terence: Okay, but no cruel eating.
Parrot: No cruel eating. Okay. Once there was a dove who was slim and beautiful.
Belle: Slim? I don't think you should focus on body shape.
Parrot: It's all right for a dove. She left her ordinary mate for a much older pigeon. He was clever and wise. They kicked around for a while. Then she met a golden eagle.
Terence: A golden eagle. What did he look like?
Parrot: Strong and handsome, fierce and golden.
Terence: Clever and wise?
Belle: I bet not. You can't have everything.
Parrot: She's right.
Terence: Then what happened?
Ding! The race starts. And the riders pour out of Berne.
Terence will have to wait for the end of the story.
.......
First breakaway.
Kangert: Let's see how far ahead we can get.
Clement: Okay. Let's do it.
They pedal furiously.
Durasek: Leave some legs for the mountains.
Gallopin: I intend to.
Soon they are joined by seven others.
Pantano: Guys, did you know what today is?
Majka: Who doesn't?
Sagan: I don't.
Pozzovivo: Course you do.
Morabito: It's the Colombian national day.
Sagan: I didn't know that.
Pantano: My special! I feel lucky today
Zakarin: However, today a Russian shall be the winner.
Feillu: A Russian! No way!
A counter attack of eight forms.
Lutsenko: Might as well have a go.
Van Avermaet: Why not. It's pretty warm though.
Pauwels: Think about something else. Shall I tell you a story?
Losada: Okay.
Pauwels: There was this really hot pigeon. She was kind of flighty.
Losada: You mean a dove?
Costa: Same difference.
Voeckler: Get on with the story. What happened?
Pauwels: She hooked up with a mate, laid an egg, then took off with an older and not-as-smart-as-he-looked pigeon. Because then she met this golden eagle. Fast and skinny.
Alaphilipppe: Ha ha! Froomey!
Pauwels: Kind of like Froomey, yeah.
Voeckler: Then what happened?
Pauwels: She left the dumb old pigeon, and chased after the golden eagle.
Voeckler: What was she thinking? They weren't the same species.
Pauwels: Yeah. He gave her the royal bums up.
Voeckler: Is that a thing? I never heard of a royal bums up.
Pauwels: Maybe I heard it wrong. Anyhow. He already had a nice lady eagle.
Voeckler: So the sexy pigeon, she ends up with no one.
Pauwels: That's so.
Plaza: Cool story!
Zakarin, inspired by certain aspects of the story, forges ahead on the final ascent.
Pantano and Majka try and keep up, but the Russian prevails.
The mountains, about whom no human knows anything, look inwards, while above them a golden eagle rises majestically.
At the finish line, Terence waits for the end of the story.
The snow covered Alps loom in the background.
Do they face inwards or outwards?
No human knows.
The Elegant Parrot is full of remorse for yesterday's error.
Terence hasn't slept well last night.
Parrot: Shall I tell you a story?
Terence: Okay, but no cruel eating.
Parrot: No cruel eating. Okay. Once there was a dove who was slim and beautiful.
Belle: Slim? I don't think you should focus on body shape.
Parrot: It's all right for a dove. She left her ordinary mate for a much older pigeon. He was clever and wise. They kicked around for a while. Then she met a golden eagle.
Terence: A golden eagle. What did he look like?
Parrot: Strong and handsome, fierce and golden.
Terence: Clever and wise?
Belle: I bet not. You can't have everything.
Parrot: She's right.
Terence: Then what happened?
Ding! The race starts. And the riders pour out of Berne.
Terence will have to wait for the end of the story.
.......
First breakaway.
Kangert: Let's see how far ahead we can get.
Clement: Okay. Let's do it.
They pedal furiously.
Durasek: Leave some legs for the mountains.
Gallopin: I intend to.
Soon they are joined by seven others.
Pantano: Guys, did you know what today is?
Majka: Who doesn't?
Sagan: I don't.
Pozzovivo: Course you do.
Morabito: It's the Colombian national day.
Sagan: I didn't know that.
Pantano: My special! I feel lucky today
Zakarin: However, today a Russian shall be the winner.
Feillu: A Russian! No way!
A counter attack of eight forms.
Lutsenko: Might as well have a go.
Van Avermaet: Why not. It's pretty warm though.
Pauwels: Think about something else. Shall I tell you a story?
Losada: Okay.
Pauwels: There was this really hot pigeon. She was kind of flighty.
Losada: You mean a dove?
Costa: Same difference.
Voeckler: Get on with the story. What happened?
Pauwels: She hooked up with a mate, laid an egg, then took off with an older and not-as-smart-as-he-looked pigeon. Because then she met this golden eagle. Fast and skinny.
Alaphilipppe: Ha ha! Froomey!
Pauwels: Kind of like Froomey, yeah.
Voeckler: Then what happened?
Pauwels: She left the dumb old pigeon, and chased after the golden eagle.
Voeckler: What was she thinking? They weren't the same species.
Pauwels: Yeah. He gave her the royal bums up.
Voeckler: Is that a thing? I never heard of a royal bums up.
Pauwels: Maybe I heard it wrong. Anyhow. He already had a nice lady eagle.
Voeckler: So the sexy pigeon, she ends up with no one.
Pauwels: That's so.
Plaza: Cool story!
Zakarin, inspired by certain aspects of the story, forges ahead on the final ascent.
Pantano and Majka try and keep up, but the Russian prevails.
The mountains, about whom no human knows anything, look inwards, while above them a golden eagle rises majestically.
At the finish line, Terence waits for the end of the story.
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
Tour de France: Rest Day in Berne - Prince of Friends
Early morning in Berne.
Terence is excited. Today he is going to see the Kindlifesserbrunnen.
Are you sure you're all right on your own? asks Belle.
I'll look after him, says the Elegant Parrot.
On the way, the Elegant Parrot flutters over Terence.
O look at the little boy and the parrot, cry three children of Berne, (in German). May we follow him?
Nein! says their mother.
Terence follows the Elegant Parrot, all the way to the Kornhausplatz.
Close your eyes, says the Elegant Parrot.
Terence closes his eyes.
A pointless precaution. He has already seen the horrible fountain.
Open them! says the Elegant Parrot.
NO! cries Terence. It's a HORRIBLE fountain!
That hadn't occurred to me, says the Elegant Parrot.
How could it not have occurred to the Elegant Parrot that Terence might be alarmed by the Child Eater Fountain?
To her, it is merely a large sculpted ogre, eating a child, while three more hapless infants squirm in a bag at his side, their limbs like little fat worms, plump and delicious....
Is it TRUE? shouts Terence.
No need to shout, says the Elegant Parrot. We'll go back to the picnic.
She leads the eye-shuttered Terence back to the site of the picnic, an open plaza near the Münsterplattform.
Belle: You're back early! How was it?
Parrot: He didn't like it.
Terence (opening his eyes): It was a giant eating my head, and keeping me in a sack, and I was CRYING.
Parrot: There were nice carved warlike bears round the bottom.
Terence: No, there WASN'T!
Parrot: I suppose I can't blame him for not noticing the bears. He was petrified.
Vello: Ha ha! Terence was petrified.
Belle: Papa!
Vello: Well you must admit, he has a head start.
Belle: Terence, dear, as a treat, would you like to have dessert first?
Arthur: Can we all have dessert first?
Belle: No, just Terence. Look Terence, try some Hasselnusselkuchen.
Terence (sniffing): What is it?
Sweezus: Go on. Try it. It's like gingerbread without the ginger.
Belle: So YOU'VE tried it. I might have known.
Gaius: Is there any real food?
Belle: Of course. Try something from the Berner Platte, and some onion tart, or zibele chueche.
Marx: This sauerkraut is good. It goes well with the Schneider Weisse.
Belle: Arthur, Pablo, how are you liking the pflümli?
No reply. They are liking the pflümli.
David: I say! Is that Richie Porte up there on the Münsterplattform?
Sweezus: Yeah it is. Hey Richie!
Richie comes down morosely. He sits on the grass next to Sweezus.
Sweezus: How's it going?
Richie: We'll just have to wait and see what happens.
Vello: A Zen-like philosophy, Richie.
Belle: Well this is what happens. You're joining our picnic. Have a nice glass of Träsch. Then some onion tart, and a pig's ear. After that, some Hasselnusselkuchen. Oh, where is it?
Sweezus: Don't worry I saved some. It's awesome, no ginger.
Richie brightens.
What does it matter that springtime has gone
While you are here, O Prince of Friends?
Terence is excited. Today he is going to see the Kindlifesserbrunnen.
Are you sure you're all right on your own? asks Belle.
I'll look after him, says the Elegant Parrot.
On the way, the Elegant Parrot flutters over Terence.
O look at the little boy and the parrot, cry three children of Berne, (in German). May we follow him?
Nein! says their mother.
Terence follows the Elegant Parrot, all the way to the Kornhausplatz.
Close your eyes, says the Elegant Parrot.
Terence closes his eyes.
A pointless precaution. He has already seen the horrible fountain.
Open them! says the Elegant Parrot.
NO! cries Terence. It's a HORRIBLE fountain!
That hadn't occurred to me, says the Elegant Parrot.
How could it not have occurred to the Elegant Parrot that Terence might be alarmed by the Child Eater Fountain?
To her, it is merely a large sculpted ogre, eating a child, while three more hapless infants squirm in a bag at his side, their limbs like little fat worms, plump and delicious....
Is it TRUE? shouts Terence.
No need to shout, says the Elegant Parrot. We'll go back to the picnic.
She leads the eye-shuttered Terence back to the site of the picnic, an open plaza near the Münsterplattform.
Belle: You're back early! How was it?
Parrot: He didn't like it.
Terence (opening his eyes): It was a giant eating my head, and keeping me in a sack, and I was CRYING.
Parrot: There were nice carved warlike bears round the bottom.
Terence: No, there WASN'T!
Parrot: I suppose I can't blame him for not noticing the bears. He was petrified.
Vello: Ha ha! Terence was petrified.
Belle: Papa!
Vello: Well you must admit, he has a head start.
Belle: Terence, dear, as a treat, would you like to have dessert first?
Arthur: Can we all have dessert first?
Belle: No, just Terence. Look Terence, try some Hasselnusselkuchen.
Terence (sniffing): What is it?
Sweezus: Go on. Try it. It's like gingerbread without the ginger.
Belle: So YOU'VE tried it. I might have known.
Gaius: Is there any real food?
Belle: Of course. Try something from the Berner Platte, and some onion tart, or zibele chueche.
Marx: This sauerkraut is good. It goes well with the Schneider Weisse.
No reply. They are liking the pflümli.
David: I say! Is that Richie Porte up there on the Münsterplattform?
Sweezus: Yeah it is. Hey Richie!
Richie comes down morosely. He sits on the grass next to Sweezus.
Sweezus: How's it going?
Richie: We'll just have to wait and see what happens.
Vello: A Zen-like philosophy, Richie.
Belle: Well this is what happens. You're joining our picnic. Have a nice glass of Träsch. Then some onion tart, and a pig's ear. After that, some Hasselnusselkuchen. Oh, where is it?
Sweezus: Don't worry I saved some. It's awesome, no ginger.
Richie brightens.
What does it matter that springtime has gone
While you are here, O Prince of Friends?
Monday, July 18, 2016
Tour de France 16: Moirans-en-Montagne to Berne - Unsurpassed
A lovely day in the Jura.
Perhaps a bit hot.
Tony Martin leads out Julian Alaphilippe.
Tony Martin: Stick behind me, Julian, and you'll see something
Julian Alaphilippe: I can already see something.
A breakaway of four men forms, some distance behind them.
Roosen: Can you see them?
Craddock: No.
Périchon: Me either.
Edet: That is not surprising.
Périchon: Why?
Edet: If he can't see them, why would you see them?
Périchon: What if he normally wore contacts, and one of them fell out?
Edet: Do you?
Craddock: No. But I see what he means now. Do you see, Edet?
Edet: I suppose so. Wait! What are you asking?
Roosen: I've just heard they're six minutes ahead of us.
Everyone: Six minutes! That's extremely demoralising.
They pedal on, thinking now of the rest day tomorrow, in Berne
Team Philosophe, back in the peloton, is also thinking of Berne.
Vello: The food there is said to be unsurpassed!
David: Unsurpassed, eh?
Marx: In what way?
Vello: Perhaps unsurpassed is the wrong word. But I qualified it by saying that it is SAID to be unsurpassed.
David: Would it not be amusing if we were?
Marx: Were what?
Vello: Unsurpassed. David is being an idiot.
Marx: What's this jolly food LIKE?
Vello: I've been told we should try the Berner Platte.
Fabian Cancellara (passing): Yes you should try it. It is good. A sumptuous dish of smoked pork, beef tongue, pork shoulder, pork knuckle, pig's ears and tails, cooked with juniper spiced sauerkraut and...
The rest of the sumptuous meal disappears on the wind. ( Pickled turnips)
Marx: Well, I should certainly like to try that. I've always liked sauerkraut.
They move up the peloton until they catch up with Team Condor.
Vello: Arthur! Looking forward to Berne?
Arthur: Not particularly.
Gaius: I'll tell you who is, though.
Vello: Who is?
Gaius: Young Terence. His parrot's been scouting. She's told him about a wonderful children's fountain.
Pablo: I think I've heard of that fountain. The Kindlifresserbrunnen.
Gaius: That's the one!
Pablo: Terence will be having his socks knocked off when he sees this fountain!
By this time, the breakaway has been reeled in by the peloton, with twenty kilometres to go.
And now, the two attackers are caught.
Tony Martin: Never mind, Julian, at least we have had an adventure.
Julian Alaphilippe: One I shall remember.
Tony Martin: Don't be surprised if we jointly win Most Combative.
The peloton sails past them.
Peter Sagan and Alex Kristoff battle it out at the front.
They cross the finish line, only centimetres between them.
Peter Sagan can't even be sure he has won.
Perhaps a bit hot.
Tony Martin leads out Julian Alaphilippe.
Tony Martin: Stick behind me, Julian, and you'll see something
Julian Alaphilippe: I can already see something.
A breakaway of four men forms, some distance behind them.
Roosen: Can you see them?
Craddock: No.
Périchon: Me either.
Edet: That is not surprising.
Périchon: Why?
Edet: If he can't see them, why would you see them?
Périchon: What if he normally wore contacts, and one of them fell out?
Edet: Do you?
Craddock: No. But I see what he means now. Do you see, Edet?
Edet: I suppose so. Wait! What are you asking?
Roosen: I've just heard they're six minutes ahead of us.
Everyone: Six minutes! That's extremely demoralising.
They pedal on, thinking now of the rest day tomorrow, in Berne
Team Philosophe, back in the peloton, is also thinking of Berne.
Vello: The food there is said to be unsurpassed!
David: Unsurpassed, eh?
Marx: In what way?
Vello: Perhaps unsurpassed is the wrong word. But I qualified it by saying that it is SAID to be unsurpassed.
David: Would it not be amusing if we were?
Marx: Were what?
Vello: Unsurpassed. David is being an idiot.
Marx: What's this jolly food LIKE?
Vello: I've been told we should try the Berner Platte.
Fabian Cancellara (passing): Yes you should try it. It is good. A sumptuous dish of smoked pork, beef tongue, pork shoulder, pork knuckle, pig's ears and tails, cooked with juniper spiced sauerkraut and...
The rest of the sumptuous meal disappears on the wind. ( Pickled turnips)
Marx: Well, I should certainly like to try that. I've always liked sauerkraut.
They move up the peloton until they catch up with Team Condor.
Vello: Arthur! Looking forward to Berne?
Arthur: Not particularly.
Gaius: I'll tell you who is, though.
Vello: Who is?
Gaius: Young Terence. His parrot's been scouting. She's told him about a wonderful children's fountain.
Pablo: I think I've heard of that fountain. The Kindlifresserbrunnen.
Gaius: That's the one!
Pablo: Terence will be having his socks knocked off when he sees this fountain!
By this time, the breakaway has been reeled in by the peloton, with twenty kilometres to go.
And now, the two attackers are caught.
Tony Martin: Never mind, Julian, at least we have had an adventure.
Julian Alaphilippe: One I shall remember.
Tony Martin: Don't be surprised if we jointly win Most Combative.
The peloton sails past them.
Peter Sagan and Alex Kristoff battle it out at the front.
They cross the finish line, only centimetres between them.
Peter Sagan can't even be sure he has won.
Sunday, July 17, 2016
Tour de France 15: Bourg-en-Bresse to Culoz - Chicken Quarrels
A day in the mountains. Team Movistar is hopeful.
Alejandro Valverde: I have a good feeling today that a Colombian will win.
Nairo Quintana: Hold that thought, Alejandro, and stick faithfully to our plan.
Rafal Majka: Careful what you wish for, you Movistars guys. There is more than one Colombian.
Alejandro Valverde: And I have a bad feeling for you, Rafal Majka.
Rafal Majka: Up yours, Alejandro.
A few metres away, Belle is talking to Terence.
Belle: Today Terence, you're sticking with me.
Terence: Will you tell me a story?
Belle: No, we have a job to do. We're on feedbags. Here are three feed bags for Team Philosophe. I'll take two, you can take the other.
Terence: This one can be for grandpa.
Belle: Okay.
Terence (sniffing the feed bag): What's in it? Pooh!
Belle: Bresse chicken quenelles. And a lovely cream pie. Here comes Sweezie. Let's go
Sweezus rides up on a motor bike, his broken collar bone almost mended.
Belle and Terence get on the back.
Brrrm!
They head off to the first feeding station.
Belle: Have you forgotten something, Sweezie?
Sweezus: Dunno. Have I?
Belle: Feedbags for Team Condor?
Sweezus: Shit. I was talking to Richie.
Belle: How's he doing?
Sweezus: He's hopeful of outgunning Tee Jay.
Belle: But they're on the same team.
Sweezus: Yeah, well. Anyway, fuck, What'm I supposed to do now? No feed bags.
Belle: Drop me off here. I see a pâtisserie. You wait with Terence.
She hops off and goes to the pâtisserie.
(You can see what a great deal of organisation the Tour takes).
Terence: I saw the devil.
Sweezus: There's no such thing.
Terence: Is that what people believe when they're older?
Sweezus: Yeah.
Terence: Ha ha! He was older!
Sweezus: That's not the same thing. What you saw was an old man dressed up as the devil.
Terence: That IS the same thing.
Sweezus: No it isn't. What's in the feed bag?
Terence: Chicken quarrels. And a lovely cream pie.
Swezus: Let's see the pie. Belle won't mind if we have a.....
Belle (returning): Hands off the cream pie, boys!
.........
But, to return to the racing:
The riders must climb the Grand Colombier not once but one and a half times.
Rafal Majka is first at the top of the Grand Colombier.
But who was second?
Jarlinson Pantano, of Team IAM, a Colombian.
Now for the second climb up the Lacets du Grand Columbier, on another versant.
Majka tries to drop Pantano, and comes first on the Lacets.
If the race would stop here! But it doesn't.
Majka is rejoined in the descent by the Colombian, who outsprints him at the finish line in Culoz.
So Majka wins the polka dot jersey, but only comes second.
The wash up:
Alejandro Valverde was right.
Alejandro Valverde: I have a good feeling today that a Colombian will win.
Nairo Quintana: Hold that thought, Alejandro, and stick faithfully to our plan.
Rafal Majka: Careful what you wish for, you Movistars guys. There is more than one Colombian.
Alejandro Valverde: And I have a bad feeling for you, Rafal Majka.
Rafal Majka: Up yours, Alejandro.
A few metres away, Belle is talking to Terence.
Belle: Today Terence, you're sticking with me.
Terence: Will you tell me a story?
Belle: No, we have a job to do. We're on feedbags. Here are three feed bags for Team Philosophe. I'll take two, you can take the other.
Terence: This one can be for grandpa.
Belle: Okay.
Terence (sniffing the feed bag): What's in it? Pooh!
Belle: Bresse chicken quenelles. And a lovely cream pie. Here comes Sweezie. Let's go
Sweezus rides up on a motor bike, his broken collar bone almost mended.
Belle and Terence get on the back.
Brrrm!
They head off to the first feeding station.
Belle: Have you forgotten something, Sweezie?
Sweezus: Dunno. Have I?
Belle: Feedbags for Team Condor?
Sweezus: Shit. I was talking to Richie.
Belle: How's he doing?
Sweezus: He's hopeful of outgunning Tee Jay.
Belle: But they're on the same team.
Sweezus: Yeah, well. Anyway, fuck, What'm I supposed to do now? No feed bags.
Belle: Drop me off here. I see a pâtisserie. You wait with Terence.
She hops off and goes to the pâtisserie.
(You can see what a great deal of organisation the Tour takes).
Terence: I saw the devil.
Sweezus: There's no such thing.
Terence: Is that what people believe when they're older?
Sweezus: Yeah.
Terence: Ha ha! He was older!
Sweezus: That's not the same thing. What you saw was an old man dressed up as the devil.
Terence: That IS the same thing.
Sweezus: No it isn't. What's in the feed bag?
Terence: Chicken quarrels. And a lovely cream pie.
Swezus: Let's see the pie. Belle won't mind if we have a.....
Belle (returning): Hands off the cream pie, boys!
.........
But, to return to the racing:
The riders must climb the Grand Colombier not once but one and a half times.
Rafal Majka is first at the top of the Grand Colombier.
But who was second?
Jarlinson Pantano, of Team IAM, a Colombian.
Now for the second climb up the Lacets du Grand Columbier, on another versant.
Majka tries to drop Pantano, and comes first on the Lacets.
If the race would stop here! But it doesn't.
Majka is rejoined in the descent by the Colombian, who outsprints him at the finish line in Culoz.
So Majka wins the polka dot jersey, but only comes second.
The wash up:
Alejandro Valverde was right.
Saturday, July 16, 2016
Tour de France 14: Montelimar to Parc des Oiseux - Green Streaks
Another day. Still rather windy.
Before the start:
Vello: Today should be relatively easy.
David: That's good. I'm not looking forward to the mountains.
Marx: I am.
Vello: You would be. Do you know what a pain you're becoming?
Marx: I'm sorry if you think that. Is it not the duty of each of us to do our utmost?
Mark Cavendish (wheeling his bike past): Too bloody right, man!
Vello: See what I mean?
David: Cocky!
Parrot (landing): Are you talking to me?
Vello: Ha ha, no he wasn't. Where have you come from?
Parrot: The Parc des Oiseaux. I saw Phil Liggett.
David: Oh really. What did he have to say?
Parrot: Whistles and various bird calls. But he's tone deaf. It was garbled bird rubbish.
David: I meant in English.
Parrot: He thinks they need more crowd control.
Vello: Does he indeed?
Marx: He may be right. Remember what happened to Terence.
Parrot: What happened to Terence?
David: He slipped off the back of Arthur's bike near the devil.
Vello: He got a terrible fright. Seems he and the devil have a history.
Parrot: Impossible. The devil is German.
Vello: Not that particular devil, but the general representation, red outfit, pitchfork, you know...
David: It's all nonsense of course.
Parrot: I must find him!
Marx: And we must get ourselves to the start line.
.........
Mid race:
Four riders are in the lead.
Roy: This is so boring, I might fall asleep any minute.
Howes: Here, have a caillette.
Elmiger: What's that you're giving him?
Howes: A caillette. I got a whole box of them in the Ardèche.
Benedetti: What are they? They look like mouldy grey stones with green streaks.
Howes: Yeah, but they're nicer than that. Help me out guys. They're weighing me down.
Elmiger: Okay, let's all have one.
Roy: Mm. Not bad. I detect....err...pork...liver...bacon...lard...spinach...that'll be the green stuff....and walnuts.
Benedetti: Listen to Master Chef!
Howes: Ha ha!
Roy: Watch out behind guys. Here comes Team Etixx Quickstep.
Too late!
The caillette-eaters are reeled in 3.5 km from the finish.
......
The finish:
Team Etixx Quickstep has done a good job for Marcel Kittel.
Marcel powers towards the finish.
Mark Cavendish is not far behind.
Suddenly. Whip-woosh! Cavendish darts out from behind Kittel, streaks in front of him, cutting him off from winning.
Kittel raises his fist.
Proving, if it needed proving, that the devil is not necessarily a German.
Before the start:
Vello: Today should be relatively easy.
David: That's good. I'm not looking forward to the mountains.
Marx: I am.
Vello: You would be. Do you know what a pain you're becoming?
Marx: I'm sorry if you think that. Is it not the duty of each of us to do our utmost?
Mark Cavendish (wheeling his bike past): Too bloody right, man!
Vello: See what I mean?
David: Cocky!
Parrot (landing): Are you talking to me?
Vello: Ha ha, no he wasn't. Where have you come from?
Parrot: The Parc des Oiseaux. I saw Phil Liggett.
David: Oh really. What did he have to say?
Parrot: Whistles and various bird calls. But he's tone deaf. It was garbled bird rubbish.
David: I meant in English.
Parrot: He thinks they need more crowd control.
Vello: Does he indeed?
Marx: He may be right. Remember what happened to Terence.
Parrot: What happened to Terence?
David: He slipped off the back of Arthur's bike near the devil.
Vello: He got a terrible fright. Seems he and the devil have a history.
Parrot: Impossible. The devil is German.
Vello: Not that particular devil, but the general representation, red outfit, pitchfork, you know...
David: It's all nonsense of course.
Parrot: I must find him!
Marx: And we must get ourselves to the start line.
.........
Mid race:
Four riders are in the lead.
Roy: This is so boring, I might fall asleep any minute.
Howes: Here, have a caillette.
Elmiger: What's that you're giving him?
Howes: A caillette. I got a whole box of them in the Ardèche.
Benedetti: What are they? They look like mouldy grey stones with green streaks.
Howes: Yeah, but they're nicer than that. Help me out guys. They're weighing me down.
Elmiger: Okay, let's all have one.
Roy: Mm. Not bad. I detect....err...pork...liver...bacon...lard...spinach...that'll be the green stuff....and walnuts.
Benedetti: Listen to Master Chef!
Howes: Ha ha!
Roy: Watch out behind guys. Here comes Team Etixx Quickstep.
Too late!
The caillette-eaters are reeled in 3.5 km from the finish.
......
The finish:
Team Etixx Quickstep has done a good job for Marcel Kittel.
Marcel powers towards the finish.
Mark Cavendish is not far behind.
Suddenly. Whip-woosh! Cavendish darts out from behind Kittel, streaks in front of him, cutting him off from winning.
Kittel raises his fist.
Proving, if it needed proving, that the devil is not necessarily a German.
Friday, July 15, 2016
Tour de France 13: Bourg Saint Andéol to La Caverne - The Devil Behind
Today is the day of the time trials. It's still very windy.
Tom Dumoulin thinks he can win.
His suit is the slickest, his socks are the longest. Inside them, he rides like a seal through the water, on wheels.
Terence waits at the start with Arthur, whose time trial begins in a minute.
Terence: You've got chocolate all over your face.
Arthur: I've been eating chocolate pastries.
Terence: Will they make you ride faster?
Arthur: You bet.
Terence: Do you know the end of my story?
Arthur: Which story?
Terence: Juanito and Danny. The rabbits. They were crossing the road.
Arthur: I guess they got mangled.
Terence: NO!
Arthur: Well, you asked me. I could make up a happier ending, but I've got to go in five seconds.
Terence: Go then!
Terence leaps up behind Arthur. Arthur takes off down the slope.
Not a good start for a time trial.
At first, Arthur doesn't realise that he has a passenger. Then he does.
Merde! says Arthur. Terence! Get off!
But you promised, says Terence.
Arthur thinks he is probably stuffed already. So he makes up a happier story.
The rabbits were crossing the road very slowly, says Arthur.
It was dark, there was loud scary traffic, says Terence.
Who's telling this story? says Arthur.
My parrot, says Terence. But she didn't finish because we bumped into Froomey.
Oh I get it, says Arthur. So, the rabbits were darting between cars, trucks and buses, and one of the rabbits was faster....
No, one of them was slower, says Terence. Because one was the little one, Danny.
It's the same thing, says Arthur. If one of them was slower, the other was faster.
But one was the daddy! says Terence. The daddy helps the little one!
Okay, says Arthur. You've got a rosy idea about fathers. So daddy Juanito picks up little Danny and throws him to safety on the grass verge with all of his might, but Juanito himself doesn't make it. He's hit by a heavy vehicle.
Terence hates this. Poor little Danny. His daddy all mangled.
Terence slips off the back of the bike.
Arthur keeps pedalling. He has lost enough time already.
Terence stomps off the road to the safety of the grass verge, where several people are standing to encourage the riders.
Most of the people are normal.
But one is dressed as the Devil.
Tom Dumoulin thinks he can win.
His suit is the slickest, his socks are the longest. Inside them, he rides like a seal through the water, on wheels.
Terence waits at the start with Arthur, whose time trial begins in a minute.
Terence: You've got chocolate all over your face.
Arthur: I've been eating chocolate pastries.
Terence: Will they make you ride faster?
Arthur: You bet.
Terence: Do you know the end of my story?
Arthur: Which story?
Terence: Juanito and Danny. The rabbits. They were crossing the road.
Arthur: I guess they got mangled.
Terence: NO!
Arthur: Well, you asked me. I could make up a happier ending, but I've got to go in five seconds.
Terence: Go then!
Terence leaps up behind Arthur. Arthur takes off down the slope.
Not a good start for a time trial.
At first, Arthur doesn't realise that he has a passenger. Then he does.
Merde! says Arthur. Terence! Get off!
But you promised, says Terence.
Arthur thinks he is probably stuffed already. So he makes up a happier story.
The rabbits were crossing the road very slowly, says Arthur.
It was dark, there was loud scary traffic, says Terence.
Who's telling this story? says Arthur.
My parrot, says Terence. But she didn't finish because we bumped into Froomey.
Oh I get it, says Arthur. So, the rabbits were darting between cars, trucks and buses, and one of the rabbits was faster....
No, one of them was slower, says Terence. Because one was the little one, Danny.
It's the same thing, says Arthur. If one of them was slower, the other was faster.
But one was the daddy! says Terence. The daddy helps the little one!
Okay, says Arthur. You've got a rosy idea about fathers. So daddy Juanito picks up little Danny and throws him to safety on the grass verge with all of his might, but Juanito himself doesn't make it. He's hit by a heavy vehicle.
Terence hates this. Poor little Danny. His daddy all mangled.
Terence slips off the back of the bike.
Arthur keeps pedalling. He has lost enough time already.
Terence stomps off the road to the safety of the grass verge, where several people are standing to encourage the riders.
Most of the people are normal.
But one is dressed as the Devil.
Thursday, July 14, 2016
Tour de France 12: Montpellier to Mont Ventoux - Risky
At the top of Mont Ventoux the winds are victorious. The race will not end here today.
Some are of the opinion that this will make the race more exciting.
In Montpellier:
Belle: It might make the race more exciting.
Sweezus: Yeah right.
Belle: Gaius believes it. By the way, did you see Pablo's video?
Sweezus: What video?
Belle: He showed it to me and Terence last night.
Terence: I'm in it.
Belle: Only at the end. Gaius is wearing the Kathmandu jacket. But you can't see his number.
Sweezus: You probably can't even tell that he's part of the Tour.
Belle: No you can't. But there's plenty of time to get that right. At least Pablo's trying.
Sweezus: Yeah. And Arthur isn't.
Belle: No one's feeding him. That's the trouble. Why don't you come shopping with me. I'm going to buy chocolate pastries.
Sweezus: Cool. Chocolate pastries!
Belle: I meant, you could buy some for Arthur.
Sweezus: Mm.
Terence: Can I come too?
Belle: No, sweetheart. I've arranged for you to be looked after. I'll be busy today.
.....
Later:
Terence is on the back of a motor bike, with his parrot.
He is being looked after by Julie.
Julie is a very careful rider. She has a job to do, involving a camera. She must make sure she doesn't get in the way of the riders, while keeping an eye out.
Terence; Are we there yet?
Julie: No.
Parrot: Shall I tell you a story?
Julie: No, I must keep an eye out.
Parrot: Not you, him.
Terence: Is it about the little bear cub?
Parrot: It's about a rabbit.
Julie: I know this one.
Parrot: Just keep an eye out, Julie. So, there was this rabbit, Juanito. He lived near a dangerous road. He never went near it, but at night it was noisy and scary.
Terence: I know that road.
Parrot: Nobody knows it. It's a story. So one day, when Juanito grew up and got married ....
Julie: Hold it. He got MARRIED?
Parrot: This is a children's story.
Terence: See?
Parrot: He had a little son called Danny. One night Danny didn't come home for tea.
Terence: Because he got run over!
Parrot: Don't pre-empt me. Juanito went out in the dark to look for his little son Danny. He came to the road.
Terence: Was it busy?
Julie: Of course it was busy.
Parrot: Yes it was very very busy. Juanito plucked up all his courage, and scampered across it.
Terence: Did he find Danny?
Parrot: Yes. Danny was whimpering there. Juanito said: Now we must be courageous my son, and scamper back through the terrible traffic.
Julie: Jesus! I know what that's like. Look at all these people crowding the road here. Wha...!
Julie slams on the brakes.
Chris Froome who is riding behind her listening to the story, along with Richie Porte and Bauke Mollema, crashes into her.
Julie: Oops. Sorry.
Chris Froome: Shit a brick. I'd better start running!
He runs till he finds a free bike. Alas! It is broken. He finds another one. And rides to the finish.
Parrot: Isn't that against the rules? Running?
Julie: Yes but sometimes you have to.
Some are of the opinion that this will make the race more exciting.
In Montpellier:
Belle: It might make the race more exciting.
Sweezus: Yeah right.
Belle: Gaius believes it. By the way, did you see Pablo's video?
Sweezus: What video?
Belle: He showed it to me and Terence last night.
Terence: I'm in it.
Belle: Only at the end. Gaius is wearing the Kathmandu jacket. But you can't see his number.
Sweezus: You probably can't even tell that he's part of the Tour.
Belle: No you can't. But there's plenty of time to get that right. At least Pablo's trying.
Sweezus: Yeah. And Arthur isn't.
Belle: No one's feeding him. That's the trouble. Why don't you come shopping with me. I'm going to buy chocolate pastries.
Sweezus: Cool. Chocolate pastries!
Belle: I meant, you could buy some for Arthur.
Sweezus: Mm.
Terence: Can I come too?
Belle: No, sweetheart. I've arranged for you to be looked after. I'll be busy today.
.....
Later:
Terence is on the back of a motor bike, with his parrot.
He is being looked after by Julie.
Julie is a very careful rider. She has a job to do, involving a camera. She must make sure she doesn't get in the way of the riders, while keeping an eye out.
Terence; Are we there yet?
Julie: No.
Parrot: Shall I tell you a story?
Julie: No, I must keep an eye out.
Parrot: Not you, him.
Terence: Is it about the little bear cub?
Parrot: It's about a rabbit.
Julie: I know this one.
Parrot: Just keep an eye out, Julie. So, there was this rabbit, Juanito. He lived near a dangerous road. He never went near it, but at night it was noisy and scary.
Terence: I know that road.
Parrot: Nobody knows it. It's a story. So one day, when Juanito grew up and got married ....
Julie: Hold it. He got MARRIED?
Parrot: This is a children's story.
Terence: See?
Parrot: He had a little son called Danny. One night Danny didn't come home for tea.
Terence: Because he got run over!
Parrot: Don't pre-empt me. Juanito went out in the dark to look for his little son Danny. He came to the road.
Terence: Was it busy?
Julie: Of course it was busy.
Parrot: Yes it was very very busy. Juanito plucked up all his courage, and scampered across it.
Terence: Did he find Danny?
Parrot: Yes. Danny was whimpering there. Juanito said: Now we must be courageous my son, and scamper back through the terrible traffic.
Julie: Jesus! I know what that's like. Look at all these people crowding the road here. Wha...!
Julie slams on the brakes.
Chris Froome who is riding behind her listening to the story, along with Richie Porte and Bauke Mollema, crashes into her.
Julie: Oops. Sorry.
Chris Froome: Shit a brick. I'd better start running!
He runs till he finds a free bike. Alas! It is broken. He finds another one. And rides to the finish.
Parrot: Isn't that against the rules? Running?
Julie: Yes but sometimes you have to.
Wednesday, July 13, 2016
Tour de France 11: Carcassonne to Montpellier - Whirling on Empty
A flat day, which should be easy except for the cross winds.
Cross winds: Grrr!! Phooo!
Vello: This is more difficult than I had anticipated.
David: Yes look at Nairo Quintana over there. He looks sour.
Marx: I hear he thinks these cross winds are dangerous.
Vello: They are. Escargot, anyone?
David: Thank you. Yum. Belle is certainly a thoughtful provider.
He sucks out the spicy little snail, and throws away the snail shell.
It flies up in the wind.
Cross winds: Grrr! Phoo!! Empty!
Arthur and Pablo had planned to try harder today.
But now they are stuck in an echelon.
Arthur: This is boring.
Pablo: Shall I film you?
Arthur: What, now?
Pablo (getting his phone out): Sweezus wants footage.
Arthur: But I'm not wearing the jacket.
Pablo: Where is it?
Arthur: I lost it.
Pablo: You didn't tell Sweezus that.
Arthur: Well he's still got one. So's Gaius.
Pablo: Apparently Kathmandu is on his case.
Arthur: He shouldn't have promised to upload a video of us in the snow catching a Baw Baw.
Pablo: He said it was you.
Arthur: Maybe it was.
Cross wind: Grrr! Phoo!! Bulubblbbl!
Gaius (coming up behind them, in his Kathmandu jacket): I don't like this wind, lads.
Pablo: Mind if I film you?
Gaius: What for?
Pablo: For a video. Make break, and I'll do it.
Gaius: Easier said than done.
Pablo: Take a Risk! Remember the Sticky Note.
Gaius: Hmm. I don't recall a Sticky Note about taking a risk.
Arthur (who wrote it): Does a beast
On the way to the table
Via the slaughterhouse
Dream of fine herbs?
Gaius: That make very little sense.
Peter Sagan (passing, and pedalling even faster): Who cares about sense? We are artists, not actors!
Chris Froome (following Peter Sagan): Not actors!
Geraint Thomas: Not actors!
Maciej Bodnar (Sagan's team mate): On the way to the table! Fine herbs!
The empty snail shell (from earlier) whirls over the course, tossed by the wind, all the way to Montpellier.
Cross winds: Grrr!! Phooo!
Vello: This is more difficult than I had anticipated.
David: Yes look at Nairo Quintana over there. He looks sour.
Marx: I hear he thinks these cross winds are dangerous.
Vello: They are. Escargot, anyone?
David: Thank you. Yum. Belle is certainly a thoughtful provider.
He sucks out the spicy little snail, and throws away the snail shell.
It flies up in the wind.
Cross winds: Grrr! Phoo!! Empty!
Arthur and Pablo had planned to try harder today.
But now they are stuck in an echelon.
Arthur: This is boring.
Pablo: Shall I film you?
Arthur: What, now?
Pablo (getting his phone out): Sweezus wants footage.
Arthur: But I'm not wearing the jacket.
Pablo: Where is it?
Arthur: I lost it.
Pablo: You didn't tell Sweezus that.
Arthur: Well he's still got one. So's Gaius.
Pablo: Apparently Kathmandu is on his case.
Arthur: He shouldn't have promised to upload a video of us in the snow catching a Baw Baw.
Pablo: He said it was you.
Arthur: Maybe it was.
Cross wind: Grrr! Phoo!! Bulubblbbl!
Gaius (coming up behind them, in his Kathmandu jacket): I don't like this wind, lads.
Pablo: Mind if I film you?
Gaius: What for?
Pablo: For a video. Make break, and I'll do it.
Gaius: Easier said than done.
Pablo: Take a Risk! Remember the Sticky Note.
Gaius: Hmm. I don't recall a Sticky Note about taking a risk.
Arthur (who wrote it): Does a beast
On the way to the table
Via the slaughterhouse
Dream of fine herbs?
Gaius: That make very little sense.
Peter Sagan (passing, and pedalling even faster): Who cares about sense? We are artists, not actors!
Chris Froome (following Peter Sagan): Not actors!
Geraint Thomas: Not actors!
Maciej Bodnar (Sagan's team mate): On the way to the table! Fine herbs!
The empty snail shell (from earlier) whirls over the course, tossed by the wind, all the way to Montpellier.
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Tour de France 10: Escaldes-Engordany to Revel - Attack Plan
An uphill start in Andorra.
Two thirds of Team Condor have a headache.
The headache is not only the result of drinking too much Albariño at yesterday's picnic.
Although that didn't help much.
No, the headache is that Sweezus is back.
......
On the uphill stretch:
Arthur: I'm the team leader.
Pablo: I know
Arthur: So how is it that he gets to make up the attack plan?
Gaius: Calm down, Arthur. What's YOUR attack plan?
Arthur: I haven't made up an attack plan
Gaius: Then why not use his?
Pablo: What is it?
Gaius: Get in a breakaway early. Stay in front. Try and annoy Peter Sagan.
Arthur: Wonderful. I don't want to annoy Peter Sagan,
Pablo: Me either.
Gaius: The question for you two is, who do you not want to annoy the most?
They ride on, uphill, each weighing the consequences of various courses of action.
.......
Later with forty kilometres to go, it is raining, and a cross wind blows cross-wise.
Team Philosophe is struggling.
Vello: Why, oh why do we do this?
David: For the fame.
Marx: I do it for the people.
Vello: These clowns? Look at them! Tooting and clapping and getting in the way with their stupid umbrellas.
Marx: Is that Terence?
David: Couldn't be. He's with Belle.
Marx: It looks like him. And the parrot.
Vello: All I can see is feet.
David: Good man. Keep your head down. Remember our attack plan.
Vello: I invented the attack plan. I'm not likely to forget it.
Marx: To be effective you must not only remember it, but excecute......
David: Watch out man, there goes Luke Durbridge! He's splitting the breakaway!
Vello: Damn! And there goes Matthews. And Impey. And Sagan!
Marx: Was that part of our plan?
Vello: No. It wasn't.
......
Back a few hundred metres, under a large umbrella, two cement feet and two parrot ones.
Terence: So what happened to the bear cub?
Parrot: It was wounded.
Terence: But how?
Parrot: It had an accident. A hunter tried to kill it. It walked and walked. Then it lay down to die.
Terence: Is this a happy story?
Parrot: Yes. The drop of water dropped by the angel from the water jug fell to earth and produced a beautiful red flower. Like the one I had yesterday.
Terence: Where is it?
Parrot: Right next to the poor sleeping bear cub. And when it wakes up, it feels better.
Terence: Why?
Parrot: Sometimes nice things like that happen.
......
That may sound lame, but sometimes nice things do happen.
To Michael Matthews, for instance, when he wins today's stage.
And outsprints Peter Sagan.
Two thirds of Team Condor have a headache.
The headache is not only the result of drinking too much Albariño at yesterday's picnic.
Although that didn't help much.
No, the headache is that Sweezus is back.
......
On the uphill stretch:
Arthur: I'm the team leader.
Pablo: I know
Arthur: So how is it that he gets to make up the attack plan?
Gaius: Calm down, Arthur. What's YOUR attack plan?
Arthur: I haven't made up an attack plan
Gaius: Then why not use his?
Pablo: What is it?
Gaius: Get in a breakaway early. Stay in front. Try and annoy Peter Sagan.
Arthur: Wonderful. I don't want to annoy Peter Sagan,
Pablo: Me either.
Gaius: The question for you two is, who do you not want to annoy the most?
They ride on, uphill, each weighing the consequences of various courses of action.
.......
Later with forty kilometres to go, it is raining, and a cross wind blows cross-wise.
Team Philosophe is struggling.
Vello: Why, oh why do we do this?
David: For the fame.
Marx: I do it for the people.
Vello: These clowns? Look at them! Tooting and clapping and getting in the way with their stupid umbrellas.
Marx: Is that Terence?
David: Couldn't be. He's with Belle.
Marx: It looks like him. And the parrot.
Vello: All I can see is feet.
David: Good man. Keep your head down. Remember our attack plan.
Vello: I invented the attack plan. I'm not likely to forget it.
Marx: To be effective you must not only remember it, but excecute......
David: Watch out man, there goes Luke Durbridge! He's splitting the breakaway!
Vello: Damn! And there goes Matthews. And Impey. And Sagan!
Marx: Was that part of our plan?
Vello: No. It wasn't.
......
Back a few hundred metres, under a large umbrella, two cement feet and two parrot ones.
Terence: So what happened to the bear cub?
Parrot: It was wounded.
Terence: But how?
Parrot: It had an accident. A hunter tried to kill it. It walked and walked. Then it lay down to die.
Terence: Is this a happy story?
Parrot: Yes. The drop of water dropped by the angel from the water jug fell to earth and produced a beautiful red flower. Like the one I had yesterday.
Terence: Where is it?
Parrot: Right next to the poor sleeping bear cub. And when it wakes up, it feels better.
Terence: Why?
Parrot: Sometimes nice things like that happen.
......
That may sound lame, but sometimes nice things do happen.
To Michael Matthews, for instance, when he wins today's stage.
And outsprints Peter Sagan.
Monday, July 11, 2016
Tour de France: Rest Day in Andorra - A Magical Andorran Picnic
At last it's the rest day.
Belle has organised a picnic for Team Philosophe.
Team Condor is also invited.
And a certain clown.
They gather in a sweet mountain meadow, a dry one. (The wet ones are marshy and boggy).
Amongst limestone rocks, Gaius spots saxifrage, pygmy hawks beard and various lichens and mosses.
David sees some kind of red animal he thinks is a goat or an antelope. It stares at him, before galloping away.
A golden eagle. Marigolds and butterflies, a green tiger beetle.....
But it's lunch time.
Belle spreads out a rug and opens a large hamper. Delicious smells waft out.
Belle: Glass of Albariño, anyone?
Vello: Yes please. And what can I smell?
Belle: Escadella, trinxat de montanya, and a Trucha a la Andorrana. A dandelion salad with Nectura dressing. Wild, strawberries, raspberries and currants. Mel i mató. And finally, pets de monja.
Terence: I don't know what anything is!
Belle: Pork stew, cabbage and potatoes, and Andorran ham. The Nectura dressing is a syrup made from pine cones of silver fir. Mel i mató is honey and cheese. Pets de monja are nuns' farts.
Marx: What a name! They look like small nipples.
Terence: I want a nuns' fart.
Belle: Not yet. They're for dessert.
They tuck into the Escadella, the trinxat, the Truncha and salad.
Sweezus: Awesome picnic!
Gaius: Delightful! Pass the salad bowl please.
Belle: Arthur and Pablo! Don't just drink! Eat something.
David: How nice that we're all back together. Quite like old times.
Vello: Monsieur le clown? Vous l'aimez?
Clown: Oui, c'est tout bon.
Marx: Well now, Terence, how do you feel after your rescue?
Terence: I could have DIED. And I've lost my parrot. Can I have a nun's fart?
Marx: You couldn't have died.
Belle: And the parrot will turn up.
Terence: Are we keeping the motor bike?
Belle: No, I had to give it back to the girl in yellow.
Gaius: Was she annoyed that you took it?
Belle: No, she's a friend of mine. One year we rode it together.
Marx: Damn! I dropped a whole piece of Truncha!
Vello: It's rolling away!
David: Look up in the sky! It's a vulture!
Bele: They're common round here.
Arthur: It isn't a vulture. It's an angel.
Belle: ARTHUR! Please eat something solid!
Pablo: It IS an angel! She's flying over the mountains with a jug of starry water. Oops. She's spilled some. Ah! See where the drop fell.... a red flower.......
Terence: Where? Where?
Sweezus: Nowhere, little dude. The guys just drank too much on an empty stomach....
A bird lands on the picnic rug. In its beak a red flower.
Terence: My parrot! Where've you been?
Elegant Parrot: Gathering Andorran stories. Am I too late for the nuns' farts?
Belle: Not at all. You may have the first one.
Belle has organised a picnic for Team Philosophe.
Team Condor is also invited.
And a certain clown.
They gather in a sweet mountain meadow, a dry one. (The wet ones are marshy and boggy).
Amongst limestone rocks, Gaius spots saxifrage, pygmy hawks beard and various lichens and mosses.
David sees some kind of red animal he thinks is a goat or an antelope. It stares at him, before galloping away.
A golden eagle. Marigolds and butterflies, a green tiger beetle.....
But it's lunch time.
Belle spreads out a rug and opens a large hamper. Delicious smells waft out.
Belle: Glass of Albariño, anyone?
Vello: Yes please. And what can I smell?
Belle: Escadella, trinxat de montanya, and a Trucha a la Andorrana. A dandelion salad with Nectura dressing. Wild, strawberries, raspberries and currants. Mel i mató. And finally, pets de monja.
Terence: I don't know what anything is!
Belle: Pork stew, cabbage and potatoes, and Andorran ham. The Nectura dressing is a syrup made from pine cones of silver fir. Mel i mató is honey and cheese. Pets de monja are nuns' farts.
Marx: What a name! They look like small nipples.
Terence: I want a nuns' fart.
Belle: Not yet. They're for dessert.
They tuck into the Escadella, the trinxat, the Truncha and salad.
Sweezus: Awesome picnic!
Gaius: Delightful! Pass the salad bowl please.
Belle: Arthur and Pablo! Don't just drink! Eat something.
David: How nice that we're all back together. Quite like old times.
Vello: Monsieur le clown? Vous l'aimez?
Clown: Oui, c'est tout bon.
Marx: Well now, Terence, how do you feel after your rescue?
Terence: I could have DIED. And I've lost my parrot. Can I have a nun's fart?
Marx: You couldn't have died.
Belle: And the parrot will turn up.
Terence: Are we keeping the motor bike?
Belle: No, I had to give it back to the girl in yellow.
Gaius: Was she annoyed that you took it?
Belle: No, she's a friend of mine. One year we rode it together.
Marx: Damn! I dropped a whole piece of Truncha!
Vello: It's rolling away!
David: Look up in the sky! It's a vulture!
Bele: They're common round here.
Arthur: It isn't a vulture. It's an angel.
Belle: ARTHUR! Please eat something solid!
Pablo: It IS an angel! She's flying over the mountains with a jug of starry water. Oops. She's spilled some. Ah! See where the drop fell.... a red flower.......
Terence: Where? Where?
Sweezus: Nowhere, little dude. The guys just drank too much on an empty stomach....
A bird lands on the picnic rug. In its beak a red flower.
Terence: My parrot! Where've you been?
Elegant Parrot: Gathering Andorran stories. Am I too late for the nuns' farts?
Belle: Not at all. You may have the first one.
Sunday, July 10, 2016
Tour de France 9: Vielha Val d'Aran to Andorre Arcalis - Seen It Before
Today starts off hot.
It's the queen stage, whatever that means.
Earlier:
Belle and Sweezus arrive in Vielha Val d'Aran.
Sweezus goes off to find Arthur.
Belle greets her beloved papa.
Belle: Papa!
Vello: Belle! Here you are at last! We've been desolate without you.
Belle: Why's that?
Marx: It seems you're better at coming up with nice snacks than I am.
Velo: He thought we could eat stew with our fingers!
Belle: Never mind, I'm here now. But I haven't had time to go shopping.
David (glumly): We do have several Power Bars, and some chocolate.
Belle: That's all right then. I'll organise a lovely picnic for tomorrow.
Sweezus returns.
Belle: What's wrong, Sweezie? Shoulder hurting?
Sweezus: No one knows where Terence is.
Belle: Good heavens!
David: Isn't he with a clown?
Marx: Arthur organised it. Don't worry.
Sweezus: Yeah well, Arthur can't remember what the clown looked like.
David: Let's be logical. The fellow's a clown. He'll be standing at the road side.
Belle: Of course he will. Thank you, David! I'll get hold of a motor bike. We'll find him.
She runs off to find a motor bike. Ah! A yellow one. She hops on. Starts it up, and comes back to get Sweezus.
Vello: Nice bike, dear. Have I seen it before?
Of course he has. We all have. It belongs to the girl in yellow, who tells us the time gap.
But time is wasting.
Later:
The race starts.
Riders push ice down their backs.
Team Condor is having a good day.
Arthur: He wasn't that angry.
Pablo: No, he wasn't.
Gaius: No doubt he trusts clowns.
....
On the last climb of the day into Arcalis, a storm breaks.
Rain and hail. Horrendous conditions. The temperature drops to a low ten degrees.
Terence stands at the side of the road in a clown hat.
Water drips off the clown hat, and onto his toes.
The clown is wearing a raincoat.
Decide for yourself if that's fair.
Terence knows there's no point saying anything in English.
He scans the dark skies for his parrot. He stares down the road for someone he knows.
Tom Dumoulin rides past, in a hurry.
Achoo! sneezes Terence. Help me!
But Tom Dumoulin is Dutch.
And then, through the mist in the distance, getting closer and closer, a yellow motor bike looms,
buzzing and humming.
And the clown thinks: C'est la fille en jaune!
But we know it isn't.
It's the queen stage, whatever that means.
Earlier:
Belle and Sweezus arrive in Vielha Val d'Aran.
Sweezus goes off to find Arthur.
Belle greets her beloved papa.
Belle: Papa!
Vello: Belle! Here you are at last! We've been desolate without you.
Belle: Why's that?
Marx: It seems you're better at coming up with nice snacks than I am.
Velo: He thought we could eat stew with our fingers!
Belle: Never mind, I'm here now. But I haven't had time to go shopping.
David (glumly): We do have several Power Bars, and some chocolate.
Belle: That's all right then. I'll organise a lovely picnic for tomorrow.
Sweezus returns.
Belle: What's wrong, Sweezie? Shoulder hurting?
Sweezus: No one knows where Terence is.
Belle: Good heavens!
David: Isn't he with a clown?
Marx: Arthur organised it. Don't worry.
Sweezus: Yeah well, Arthur can't remember what the clown looked like.
David: Let's be logical. The fellow's a clown. He'll be standing at the road side.
Belle: Of course he will. Thank you, David! I'll get hold of a motor bike. We'll find him.
She runs off to find a motor bike. Ah! A yellow one. She hops on. Starts it up, and comes back to get Sweezus.
Vello: Nice bike, dear. Have I seen it before?
Of course he has. We all have. It belongs to the girl in yellow, who tells us the time gap.
But time is wasting.
Later:
The race starts.
Riders push ice down their backs.
Team Condor is having a good day.
Arthur: He wasn't that angry.
Pablo: No, he wasn't.
Gaius: No doubt he trusts clowns.
....
On the last climb of the day into Arcalis, a storm breaks.
Rain and hail. Horrendous conditions. The temperature drops to a low ten degrees.
Terence stands at the side of the road in a clown hat.
Water drips off the clown hat, and onto his toes.
The clown is wearing a raincoat.
Decide for yourself if that's fair.
Terence knows there's no point saying anything in English.
He scans the dark skies for his parrot. He stares down the road for someone he knows.
Tom Dumoulin rides past, in a hurry.
Achoo! sneezes Terence. Help me!
But Tom Dumoulin is Dutch.
And then, through the mist in the distance, getting closer and closer, a yellow motor bike looms,
buzzing and humming.
And the clown thinks: C'est la fille en jaune!
But we know it isn't.
Saturday, July 9, 2016
Tour de France 8: Pau to Bagnères-de-Luchon - Motivation
A proper day in the mountains, beginning in Pau.
Vello: Today will be hard on the legs.
David: Yesterday was bad enough.
Marx: We ought to increase our nutrition.
Vello: Listen to you!
Marx: I've been observing the others. They eat frequently. Look at Nibali there, nibbling on something.
David: What's he got?
Vello: A dried fig or a testicle. Just imagine what Belle would have packed.
Marx: A pot of garbure? Figs with honey?
David: Why tantalise us with mere figments?
Marx: Because before today's start I went shopping in Pau. Et voilà! Three pots of garbure! Also some figs and honey.
Vello: No wine?
Marx: I expect there's wine in the garbure. There's meat and cabbage in any case.
David: We know what garbure is!
Vello: You fool Marx! How will we eat it?
Marx: With our fingers.
Vello: You expect us to ride and eat stew with our fingers!
Marx: Please yourself. I'm having mine.
He reaches behind him. Wobbles, and tips. Garbure is spilled on the road. But the peloton has passed them already.
All except Arthur and Pablo. Here they come now.
Arthur: Watch out! On the road! Looks like brown vomit!
Pablo (avoiding the vomit): Smells good, though.
Arthur: How many climbs are there meant to be today?
Pablo: Three or four. I don't remember. Do you and I lack motivation?
Arthur: We do. But Sweezus will be here tomorrow. He'll motivate us.
Pablo: He might be angry.
Arthur: Why would he be?
Pablo: Because we lost Terence.
Arthur: Oh, that.
!
Yes, that reminds me, we left Terence and his parrot yesterday being menaced by a French speaking clown, at the side of the road, (near Lac de Payolle).
The parrot had just said: Le chapeau de poèsie. En moi.
The clown had taken his hat off.
...
Terence looks wary. Without the hat, the clown looks like Saint Joseph.
This could be bad.
But hurrah for the quick-thinking parrot.
Non, non! cries the parrot. Je l'ai déjà mangé!
But which the clown understands that the parrot has already eaten the poetry hat at an earlier juncture.
He replaces his clown hat.
The situation is once again calm.
But that was yesterday.
And now?
As Chris Froome makes a surprise attack at the top of the Col de Peyresourde, thereby making a gap for himself on the downhill, he fails to notice a clown at the side of the road, a stony faced infant, and no parrot.
To be fair, no one would notice no parrot.
Vello: Today will be hard on the legs.
David: Yesterday was bad enough.
Marx: We ought to increase our nutrition.
Vello: Listen to you!
Marx: I've been observing the others. They eat frequently. Look at Nibali there, nibbling on something.
David: What's he got?
Vello: A dried fig or a testicle. Just imagine what Belle would have packed.
Marx: A pot of garbure? Figs with honey?
David: Why tantalise us with mere figments?
Marx: Because before today's start I went shopping in Pau. Et voilà! Three pots of garbure! Also some figs and honey.
Vello: No wine?
Marx: I expect there's wine in the garbure. There's meat and cabbage in any case.
David: We know what garbure is!
Vello: You fool Marx! How will we eat it?
Marx: With our fingers.
Vello: You expect us to ride and eat stew with our fingers!
Marx: Please yourself. I'm having mine.
He reaches behind him. Wobbles, and tips. Garbure is spilled on the road. But the peloton has passed them already.
All except Arthur and Pablo. Here they come now.
Arthur: Watch out! On the road! Looks like brown vomit!
Pablo (avoiding the vomit): Smells good, though.
Arthur: How many climbs are there meant to be today?
Pablo: Three or four. I don't remember. Do you and I lack motivation?
Arthur: We do. But Sweezus will be here tomorrow. He'll motivate us.
Pablo: He might be angry.
Arthur: Why would he be?
Pablo: Because we lost Terence.
Arthur: Oh, that.
!
Yes, that reminds me, we left Terence and his parrot yesterday being menaced by a French speaking clown, at the side of the road, (near Lac de Payolle).
The parrot had just said: Le chapeau de poèsie. En moi.
The clown had taken his hat off.
...
Terence looks wary. Without the hat, the clown looks like Saint Joseph.
This could be bad.
But hurrah for the quick-thinking parrot.
Non, non! cries the parrot. Je l'ai déjà mangé!
But which the clown understands that the parrot has already eaten the poetry hat at an earlier juncture.
He replaces his clown hat.
The situation is once again calm.
But that was yesterday.
And now?
As Chris Froome makes a surprise attack at the top of the Col de Peyresourde, thereby making a gap for himself on the downhill, he fails to notice a clown at the side of the road, a stony faced infant, and no parrot.
To be fair, no one would notice no parrot.
Friday, July 8, 2016
Tour de France 7: L'Isle-Jourdain to Lac de Payolle - We Learn Nothing
A flat start that will end in the mountains.
Every team has a plan.
The sun shines hotly.
An early breakaway of twelve becomes a breakaway of twenty nine.
Do we know whose plan this was?
Let's listen.
Nibali: Team Condor's not doing too good.
Cancellara: Si, but their Team Sticky Notes are catching fire.
Navarro: Ay! Which is your favourite?
Cancellara: I very much like Shut Up Legs.
Navarro: You do know they didn't invent that catch phrase?
Cancellara: I know. It was Jens Voigt. But Pablo takes it to the next level.
Impey: Right. How does it go now?
Cancellara: If you would not fail me
In the high places
Switch to silent
And float above pain.
Impey: Bloody awesome!
Nibali: Merda! Is that Stephen Cummings?
He speeds up, but it may be too late.
The plan of Stephen Cummings is to ride way from the breakaway companions and avoid taking Nibali with him.
Stephen Cummings is now riding solo, with 27 kilometres to go.
He feels horrible on the uphill.
He is worried about Nibali catching up.
To avoid negative thoughts he tries to be in the moment.
Look about you, Stephen Cummings. Be in the moment.
Trees... water... road... grass... a clown...an infant... a parrot...
Stephen Cummings presses on. Shut up legs. Float above pain.
By the rules of the moment, once you pass something, it's over.
But if we stay back, we may learn something.
Clown: Je pense que Stephen Cummings gagne!
Parrot: Je pense le même!
Terence: It's not FAIR!
Parrot: What's not?
Terence: I have to stand here all day with a clown.
Parrot: Buck up. We all have our problems.
Terence: YOU don't.
Parrot: I do. Shall I tell you?
Terence: Yes.
Parrot: Every time I swallow I feel something tickle my innards. What do you think it might be?
Terence: I know! The cicada!
Parrot: Not him. He's long gone. I fear it's his POETRY HAT.
Clown: Quoi?
Parrot: Chapeau de poèsie! En l'intérior de moi!
The clown frowns, and menacingly takes off his clown hat.
Every team has a plan.
The sun shines hotly.
An early breakaway of twelve becomes a breakaway of twenty nine.
Do we know whose plan this was?
Let's listen.
Nibali: Team Condor's not doing too good.
Cancellara: Si, but their Team Sticky Notes are catching fire.
Navarro: Ay! Which is your favourite?
Cancellara: I very much like Shut Up Legs.
Navarro: You do know they didn't invent that catch phrase?
Cancellara: I know. It was Jens Voigt. But Pablo takes it to the next level.
Impey: Right. How does it go now?
Cancellara: If you would not fail me
In the high places
Switch to silent
And float above pain.
Impey: Bloody awesome!
Nibali: Merda! Is that Stephen Cummings?
He speeds up, but it may be too late.
The plan of Stephen Cummings is to ride way from the breakaway companions and avoid taking Nibali with him.
Stephen Cummings is now riding solo, with 27 kilometres to go.
He feels horrible on the uphill.
He is worried about Nibali catching up.
To avoid negative thoughts he tries to be in the moment.
Look about you, Stephen Cummings. Be in the moment.
Trees... water... road... grass... a clown...an infant... a parrot...
Stephen Cummings presses on. Shut up legs. Float above pain.
By the rules of the moment, once you pass something, it's over.
But if we stay back, we may learn something.
Clown: Je pense que Stephen Cummings gagne!
Parrot: Je pense le même!
Terence: It's not FAIR!
Parrot: What's not?
Terence: I have to stand here all day with a clown.
Parrot: Buck up. We all have our problems.
Terence: YOU don't.
Parrot: I do. Shall I tell you?
Terence: Yes.
Parrot: Every time I swallow I feel something tickle my innards. What do you think it might be?
Terence: I know! The cicada!
Parrot: Not him. He's long gone. I fear it's his POETRY HAT.
Clown: Quoi?
Parrot: Chapeau de poèsie! En l'intérior de moi!
The clown frowns, and menacingly takes off his clown hat.
Thursday, July 7, 2016
Tour de France 6: Arpajon-sur-Cère to Montauban - Quick Witted
The day's racing has begun. The sun is shining.
Team DDD has a feeling that today something good will happen.
So does Team Etixx Quick Step.
Team Condor has no such feeling.
Gaius: A clown! Arthur, what were you thinking?
Arthur: What's wrong with clowns?
Gaius: Nothing, normally.
Pablo: Then you can't really blame Arthur.
Gaius: But this one has kidnapped young Terence.
Pablo: Poor little niño!
Arthur: And his parrot. Did it occur to you he might have just wanted the parrot?
Gaius: And that makes it BETTER?
Arthur: The parrot speaks French, and she's an excellent storyteller. Did you hear the one she told Terence?
Gaius: No. And shouldn't we be pedalling faster?
Arthur: Nothing's stopping us.
Pablo: So are we or aren't we? You're the team leader.
Arthur: Do you want to hear the story, or pedal faster?
Pablo: Story!
Gaius: Well, I shall pedal faster. Oh, by the way. Have you heard the latest?
Arthur: About what?
Gaius: Sweezus. No, you wouldn't have. You never have any charge in your phone.
Pablo: Ay! Me either.
Gaius; Keep up boys, and I'll tell you. It seems Vello called Belle to ask her to join them. They miss the nice snacks she used to slip in their feed bags.
Pablo: Is she coming? I thought she was nursing Sweezus.
Gaius: He's a lot better. And he's coming too.
Arthur: But not as team leader.
Gaius: No, as an observer. But my guess is he'll have a few words to say to you two.
Arthur doesn't look all that worried.
Gaius rides off.
He pedals harder and harder.
So do the rest of the peloton. It's long hot day on the saddle.
Arthur and Pablo have dropped back, while Arthur tells Pablo the story.
It's about a disappearance in a bath tub, says Arthur.
Is there a plug in the plug hole? asks Pablo.
My, isn't Pablo quick witted!
Meanwhile at the front of the race it is between Mark Cavendish and Marcel Kittel.
Close, close, closer!
Mark Cavendish pips Marcel Kittel.
Sometimes you can have a good feeling for a reason. Sometimes for no reason at all.
Team DDD has a feeling that today something good will happen.
So does Team Etixx Quick Step.
Team Condor has no such feeling.
Gaius: A clown! Arthur, what were you thinking?
Arthur: What's wrong with clowns?
Gaius: Nothing, normally.
Pablo: Then you can't really blame Arthur.
Gaius: But this one has kidnapped young Terence.
Pablo: Poor little niño!
Arthur: And his parrot. Did it occur to you he might have just wanted the parrot?
Gaius: And that makes it BETTER?
Arthur: The parrot speaks French, and she's an excellent storyteller. Did you hear the one she told Terence?
Gaius: No. And shouldn't we be pedalling faster?
Arthur: Nothing's stopping us.
Pablo: So are we or aren't we? You're the team leader.
Arthur: Do you want to hear the story, or pedal faster?
Pablo: Story!
Gaius: Well, I shall pedal faster. Oh, by the way. Have you heard the latest?
Arthur: About what?
Gaius: Sweezus. No, you wouldn't have. You never have any charge in your phone.
Pablo: Ay! Me either.
Gaius; Keep up boys, and I'll tell you. It seems Vello called Belle to ask her to join them. They miss the nice snacks she used to slip in their feed bags.
Pablo: Is she coming? I thought she was nursing Sweezus.
Gaius: He's a lot better. And he's coming too.
Arthur: But not as team leader.
Gaius: No, as an observer. But my guess is he'll have a few words to say to you two.
Arthur doesn't look all that worried.
Gaius rides off.
He pedals harder and harder.
So do the rest of the peloton. It's long hot day on the saddle.
Arthur and Pablo have dropped back, while Arthur tells Pablo the story.
It's about a disappearance in a bath tub, says Arthur.
Is there a plug in the plug hole? asks Pablo.
My, isn't Pablo quick witted!
Meanwhile at the front of the race it is between Mark Cavendish and Marcel Kittel.
Close, close, closer!
Mark Cavendish pips Marcel Kittel.
Sometimes you can have a good feeling for a reason. Sometimes for no reason at all.
Wednesday, July 6, 2016
Tour de France 5: Limoges to Le Lioran - Scavenging Clowns
Stage Five. Today will not be so boring.
Terence is reunited with his parrot.
Arthur, having been lectured by Marx, has arranged for Terence and his parrot to travel to Le Lioran with a random person.
Terence does not like this random person, who is dressed as a clown.
But the race is starting and we must not linger.
Almost at once there is a breakaway of nine riders.
None of whom we know.
Back in the main peloton, Team Philosophe is lamenting.
Vello: Without Belle to support us, we're failing to reach our potential.
David: True. She would always tuck lovely treats in our feed bags.
Marx: Harden up, men. Power Bars are the food of the people.
Vello: Rubbish! I shall call Belle tonight.
Crumbs! This is all about food. And it's boring. Let's visit the breakaway boys.
Van Avermaet: How far in front are we?
De Ghent: Thirteen minutes five.
Grivko: Too easy.
A short time later, on the Pas de Peyrol, Grivko drops back.
So, it wasn't that easy.
With seventeen kilometres to go, Van Avermaet attacks de Ghent on the Col du Perthus.
De Ghent is left behind.
De Ghent: Fuck.
Van Avermaet goes on to win a 1-2 for Belgium.
The stage and the yellow.
Not at all boring, particularly if you're a Belgian.
And let's see what's happened to Terence.
Terence: Are we there yet?
Random Person: Quoi?
Terence: Are we THERE yet?
Random Person: Quoi?
Elegant Parrot: Il ne parle pas français.
Terence: What?
Elegant Parrot: He doesn't speak French.
Terence: I know. He speaks duck. Quoi-quoi!
Elegant Parrot: I was telling HIM, that YOU don't. In French.
Terence: You're clever. Ask him why he's dressed as a clown.
Elegant Parrot: Umm..... Pourquoi vous portez les vêtements du clown?
Random Person: J'aime Arthur et Pablo. Leurs Sticky Notes.
Elegant Parrot: He loves Arthur and Pablo, their Sticky Notes.
Terence: Oh.
Elegant Parrot: Any en particulier?
Random Person: Oui. Eat Well Sleep Well.
Terence: He lied! He DOES speak English.
Elegant Parrot: Yes. Let's take this further. Un citation, s'il vous plaît?
Random Person (reciting): Convulsing intestine of riders
Sucking in power
Excreting exhaustion
In discarded paper bags
Collected by scavenging clowns.
Elegant Parrot: That's very good. Bon! Bon!
Random Person: Vous êtes gentille, madame perroquet!
Terence is reunited with his parrot.
Arthur, having been lectured by Marx, has arranged for Terence and his parrot to travel to Le Lioran with a random person.
Terence does not like this random person, who is dressed as a clown.
But the race is starting and we must not linger.
Almost at once there is a breakaway of nine riders.
None of whom we know.
Back in the main peloton, Team Philosophe is lamenting.
Vello: Without Belle to support us, we're failing to reach our potential.
David: True. She would always tuck lovely treats in our feed bags.
Marx: Harden up, men. Power Bars are the food of the people.
Vello: Rubbish! I shall call Belle tonight.
Crumbs! This is all about food. And it's boring. Let's visit the breakaway boys.
Van Avermaet: How far in front are we?
De Ghent: Thirteen minutes five.
Grivko: Too easy.
A short time later, on the Pas de Peyrol, Grivko drops back.
So, it wasn't that easy.
With seventeen kilometres to go, Van Avermaet attacks de Ghent on the Col du Perthus.
De Ghent is left behind.
De Ghent: Fuck.
Van Avermaet goes on to win a 1-2 for Belgium.
The stage and the yellow.
Not at all boring, particularly if you're a Belgian.
And let's see what's happened to Terence.
Terence: Are we there yet?
Random Person: Quoi?
Terence: Are we THERE yet?
Random Person: Quoi?
Elegant Parrot: Il ne parle pas français.
Terence: What?
Elegant Parrot: He doesn't speak French.
Terence: I know. He speaks duck. Quoi-quoi!
Elegant Parrot: I was telling HIM, that YOU don't. In French.
Terence: You're clever. Ask him why he's dressed as a clown.
Elegant Parrot: Umm..... Pourquoi vous portez les vêtements du clown?
Random Person: J'aime Arthur et Pablo. Leurs Sticky Notes.
Elegant Parrot: He loves Arthur and Pablo, their Sticky Notes.
Terence: Oh.
Elegant Parrot: Any en particulier?
Random Person: Oui. Eat Well Sleep Well.
Terence: He lied! He DOES speak English.
Elegant Parrot: Yes. Let's take this further. Un citation, s'il vous plaît?
Random Person (reciting): Convulsing intestine of riders
Sucking in power
Excreting exhaustion
In discarded paper bags
Collected by scavenging clowns.
Elegant Parrot: That's very good. Bon! Bon!
Random Person: Vous êtes gentille, madame perroquet!
Tuesday, July 5, 2016
Tour de France 4: Saumur to Limoges - Metaphysics
Early morning, in Saumur.
Terence sits on the Dolmen de Bagneux. Marx sits beside him.
Marx (shifting uncomfortably): Why don't we sit on the grass?
Terence: See?
Marx: What?
Terence: My REAL grandpa has a hard bottom.
Marx: Let me assure you he doesn't. Not that I claim to be him. Now, what is it you want to ask me?
Terence: First I have to tell you a story.
Marx: Very nice. Go on then.
Terence: My parrot said it.
Marx: Begin.
Terence: There was a grasshopper in the bath and a spider.
Marx: Were they friends?
Terence: Not at the same time.
Marx: Sorry. Go on.
Terence: My parrot saw the grasshopper. It was a baby. She actually thought it might be a beetle. And it was there every day.
Marx: In the bath?
Terence: Yes. Then one day the grasshopper was gone and there was a spider.
Marx: In the bath?
Terence: Yes. And it was THE SAME SIZE AS THE GRASSHOPPER.
Marx: And is that the end of the story?
Terence: NO! There's three QUESTIONS.
Marx: Three questions. What are they?
Terence: See! I knew you wouldn't know anything!
Marx: You haven't asked me the questions.
Terence: All right. Did the grasshopper turn into the spider?
Marx: Probably not. That would be a strange metamorphosis.
Terence: So did the spider eat the grasshopper?
Marx: Possibly. But.....was there a plug in the plug hole?
Terence: That's like question three!
Marx: Like it? What is question three?
Terence: Not telling.
Marx: Fine. Well, I have a race to contest. Where is your parrot?
Terence: She's gone to Limoges.
Marx: Dear me. Who's looking after you?
Terence: No one.
Marx: Come. It's time Arthur faced up to his responsibilities as team leader.
They get down from the Dolmen de Bagneux.
......
Will we find Terence's parrot's story mirrored in the day's racing?
Yes, in that nothing much happens.
At times, there is a minor change in the placings
But in Limoges, Marcel Kittel comes in a split second ahead of Coquard in a photo finish. Sagan retains yellow. Cavendish green.
And Pablo comes up with Sticky Note Three, final version:
Whenever you can,
Find an opening,
Go through it,
Don't stop to consider
That space may be space for a reason.
Terence sits on the Dolmen de Bagneux. Marx sits beside him.
Marx (shifting uncomfortably): Why don't we sit on the grass?
Terence: See?
Marx: What?
Terence: My REAL grandpa has a hard bottom.
Marx: Let me assure you he doesn't. Not that I claim to be him. Now, what is it you want to ask me?
Terence: First I have to tell you a story.
Marx: Very nice. Go on then.
Terence: My parrot said it.
Marx: Begin.
Terence: There was a grasshopper in the bath and a spider.
Marx: Were they friends?
Terence: Not at the same time.
Marx: Sorry. Go on.
Terence: My parrot saw the grasshopper. It was a baby. She actually thought it might be a beetle. And it was there every day.
Marx: In the bath?
Terence: Yes. Then one day the grasshopper was gone and there was a spider.
Marx: In the bath?
Terence: Yes. And it was THE SAME SIZE AS THE GRASSHOPPER.
Marx: And is that the end of the story?
Terence: NO! There's three QUESTIONS.
Marx: Three questions. What are they?
Terence: See! I knew you wouldn't know anything!
Marx: You haven't asked me the questions.
Terence: All right. Did the grasshopper turn into the spider?
Marx: Probably not. That would be a strange metamorphosis.
Terence: So did the spider eat the grasshopper?
Marx: Possibly. But.....was there a plug in the plug hole?
Terence: That's like question three!
Marx: Like it? What is question three?
Terence: Not telling.
Marx: Fine. Well, I have a race to contest. Where is your parrot?
Terence: She's gone to Limoges.
Marx: Dear me. Who's looking after you?
Terence: No one.
Marx: Come. It's time Arthur faced up to his responsibilities as team leader.
They get down from the Dolmen de Bagneux.
......
Will we find Terence's parrot's story mirrored in the day's racing?
Yes, in that nothing much happens.
At times, there is a minor change in the placings
But in Limoges, Marcel Kittel comes in a split second ahead of Coquard in a photo finish. Sagan retains yellow. Cavendish green.
And Pablo comes up with Sticky Note Three, final version:
Whenever you can,
Find an opening,
Go through it,
Don't stop to consider
That space may be space for a reason.
Tour de France 3: Granville to Angers - The Violet Eel
The weather is better today, and the course is flattish.
The long breakaway by Armindo Fonseca looks easy.
In the middle of a slow moving peloton, Arthur and Pablo are at work on their Sticky Note poems.
How's this? says Pablo. This is for Sticky Note Two:
Don't fall off,
it would slow us both up
if the tight skin of your shoulder
or the sharp curve of your knee
should rupture and split open
like an over ripe tomato.
I like it, says Arthur.
Gracias, says Pablo.
They are passed majestically by Alberto Contador, flanked by Team Tinkoff.
He'd like it, says Pablo.
Yes, says Arthur. He invented the rule.
Have you completed Sticky Note One yet? asks Pablo.
I think so, says Arthur. Listen:
The road swallows the forest,
black reeds choke the gullet
of a violet eel, stiffening
in the gashed scarlet air.
Know where your team is.
It's arresting, says Pablo. And I like how the rule's at the end, as an afterthought.
That's what it was, says Arthur. I got carried away with my method.
Speaking of things stiffening, says Pablo, as Team Philosophe looms up before them.
Arthur! Pablo! cries David. I've been meaning to ask you....
Hurry up, says Vello. There's an opening!
Sticky Note Three, says Pablo. Take Every Opportunity.
What are you talking about? asks Marx.
YOU ask them! says Vello, speeding into a gap between Chris Froome and Richie, followed closely by David.
Who's in charge of young Terence? asks Marx.
No one, says Arthur.
Just as I thought, says Marx. When we get to Angers, why don't you send him to me.
Okay, says Arthur. If he'll come. He doesn't think you're you now.
Not me? Why not? splutters Marx.
It's the buzz cut, says Pablo. You no longer have the ineffable look of God Almighty.
I see, says Marx. Well, get someone to mind him. I hear he's been annoying the officials.
Arthur shrugs. How?
Endless metaphysical questions, says Marx.
He speeds off, as Arthur and Pablo draw level with Richie.
Hey, says Richie. Seeing you guys are passing, wanna hear my new poem? It goes:
Far beyond my reach is the enchanted mountain
And you are on the other side, ten thousand peaks away.
Bright burns your candle in its fiery lantern
And.........I haven't got the last line yet.
How about, 'the yellow jersey won't be mine today', says Arthur.
Is it addressed to Tee Jay van Garderen, or Peter Sagan? asks Pablo.
Or Mark Cavendish? asks Arthur.
Richie looks sour.
It's not bad, says Arthur. Chinese influence?
Richie brightens.
Yes. Chinese influence. Middle Tang.
Let's know when you finish, says Arthur.
Sure, says Richie. He pedals away.
It's good when your friends are supportive.
As Richie grows small in the distance, Pablo and Arthur start laughing at something or other.......
The long breakaway by Armindo Fonseca looks easy.
In the middle of a slow moving peloton, Arthur and Pablo are at work on their Sticky Note poems.
How's this? says Pablo. This is for Sticky Note Two:
Don't fall off,
it would slow us both up
if the tight skin of your shoulder
or the sharp curve of your knee
should rupture and split open
like an over ripe tomato.
I like it, says Arthur.
Gracias, says Pablo.
They are passed majestically by Alberto Contador, flanked by Team Tinkoff.
He'd like it, says Pablo.
Yes, says Arthur. He invented the rule.
Have you completed Sticky Note One yet? asks Pablo.
I think so, says Arthur. Listen:
The road swallows the forest,
black reeds choke the gullet
of a violet eel, stiffening
in the gashed scarlet air.
Know where your team is.
It's arresting, says Pablo. And I like how the rule's at the end, as an afterthought.
That's what it was, says Arthur. I got carried away with my method.
Speaking of things stiffening, says Pablo, as Team Philosophe looms up before them.
Arthur! Pablo! cries David. I've been meaning to ask you....
Hurry up, says Vello. There's an opening!
Sticky Note Three, says Pablo. Take Every Opportunity.
What are you talking about? asks Marx.
YOU ask them! says Vello, speeding into a gap between Chris Froome and Richie, followed closely by David.
Who's in charge of young Terence? asks Marx.
No one, says Arthur.
Just as I thought, says Marx. When we get to Angers, why don't you send him to me.
Okay, says Arthur. If he'll come. He doesn't think you're you now.
Not me? Why not? splutters Marx.
It's the buzz cut, says Pablo. You no longer have the ineffable look of God Almighty.
I see, says Marx. Well, get someone to mind him. I hear he's been annoying the officials.
Arthur shrugs. How?
Endless metaphysical questions, says Marx.
He speeds off, as Arthur and Pablo draw level with Richie.
Hey, says Richie. Seeing you guys are passing, wanna hear my new poem? It goes:
Far beyond my reach is the enchanted mountain
And you are on the other side, ten thousand peaks away.
Bright burns your candle in its fiery lantern
And.........I haven't got the last line yet.
How about, 'the yellow jersey won't be mine today', says Arthur.
Is it addressed to Tee Jay van Garderen, or Peter Sagan? asks Pablo.
Or Mark Cavendish? asks Arthur.
Richie looks sour.
It's not bad, says Arthur. Chinese influence?
Richie brightens.
Yes. Chinese influence. Middle Tang.
Let's know when you finish, says Arthur.
Sure, says Richie. He pedals away.
It's good when your friends are supportive.
As Richie grows small in the distance, Pablo and Arthur start laughing at something or other.......
Sunday, July 3, 2016
Tour de France 2: St Lô to Cherbourg - Carrot and Stick
St Lô. It's raining.
Terence is looking for grandpa.
Luckily he has his parrot, to keep him from despair.
Let me tell you a story, says the Elegant Parrot.
The rain drips down Terence's nose.
All right, sniffs Terence.
But we haven't time to listen to the story. The race has begun. The riders pour out of St Lô.
Team Philosophe is feeling confident.
Vello: We should do well today.
David: Yes. I agree.
Marx: If we all pull together.
Vello: Ha ha! Communist!
David: It's all about winning.
Marx: The two great drivers of humanity are of equal importance.
Vello: Is that you quoting yourself?
Marx: No. It's the first time I've said it.
David: Refresh me. What are they?
Vello: Carrot and stick!
David: I wasn't asking you, Vello.
Richie Porte cruises by, followed by Tee Jay van Garderen.
See that, says Vello. Carrot and stick.
Marx: Enough! Time to get serious.
Vello: I'm always serious.
Gaius approaches from behind and draws level.
Gaius: Hello boys. Rain looks like stopping.
David: Gaius! No hard feelings?
Gaius: No. I'm enjoying being under Arthur. It makes a change from our usual relationship.
Vello: How's Arthur doing?
Gaius: He has one simple rule. No, two, is it....? Number one is know where your team is. He learned that from Richie.
Marx: Very sensible. Does he know where you are?
Gaius: Not right now. He sent me ahead. He's with Pablo. They're working on something.
Vello: A poem no doubt. Which is hardly....
Gaius: Before you scoff....it's a poem about leadership, involving sticky notes as I understand it. Not really my field.... by the way, Marx, have you seen Terence?
Marx: No. Should I have?
Gaius: He's looking for you. Well, hooroo lads!
Vello: He's chirpy.
David: Woah! Watch out ahead! A crash.
Team Philosophe avoids the main crash site, in the midst of which they spot Alberto Contador, looking grim and determined.
Gaius too, avoids it.
Arthur and Pablo are so far back the crash has been cleared when they get there.
But they have come up with sticky note three.
#3. Take every opportunity.
A good one.
So good it is already being practised by Peter Sagan, who powers up the Côte de la Glacerie and sprints to the finish, beating Alaphilippe and Valverde.
Terence is looking for grandpa.
Luckily he has his parrot, to keep him from despair.
Let me tell you a story, says the Elegant Parrot.
The rain drips down Terence's nose.
All right, sniffs Terence.
But we haven't time to listen to the story. The race has begun. The riders pour out of St Lô.
Team Philosophe is feeling confident.
Vello: We should do well today.
David: Yes. I agree.
Marx: If we all pull together.
Vello: Ha ha! Communist!
David: It's all about winning.
Marx: The two great drivers of humanity are of equal importance.
Vello: Is that you quoting yourself?
Marx: No. It's the first time I've said it.
David: Refresh me. What are they?
Vello: Carrot and stick!
David: I wasn't asking you, Vello.
Richie Porte cruises by, followed by Tee Jay van Garderen.
See that, says Vello. Carrot and stick.
Marx: Enough! Time to get serious.
Vello: I'm always serious.
Gaius approaches from behind and draws level.
Gaius: Hello boys. Rain looks like stopping.
David: Gaius! No hard feelings?
Gaius: No. I'm enjoying being under Arthur. It makes a change from our usual relationship.
Vello: How's Arthur doing?
Gaius: He has one simple rule. No, two, is it....? Number one is know where your team is. He learned that from Richie.
Marx: Very sensible. Does he know where you are?
Gaius: Not right now. He sent me ahead. He's with Pablo. They're working on something.
Vello: A poem no doubt. Which is hardly....
Gaius: Before you scoff....it's a poem about leadership, involving sticky notes as I understand it. Not really my field.... by the way, Marx, have you seen Terence?
Marx: No. Should I have?
Gaius: He's looking for you. Well, hooroo lads!
Vello: He's chirpy.
David: Woah! Watch out ahead! A crash.
Team Philosophe avoids the main crash site, in the midst of which they spot Alberto Contador, looking grim and determined.
Gaius too, avoids it.
Arthur and Pablo are so far back the crash has been cleared when they get there.
But they have come up with sticky note three.
#3. Take every opportunity.
A good one.
So good it is already being practised by Peter Sagan, who powers up the Côte de la Glacerie and sprints to the finish, beating Alaphilippe and Valverde.
Saturday, July 2, 2016
Tour de France 1 - Mont Saint Michel to Utah - Don't Fall Off.
Mont-Saint-Michel.
The riders assemble.
Pablo Neruda arrives, on his own.
He wheels his bicycle past team Etixx-Quick Step.
Hey Pablo, calls Marcel Kittel. Where's your team leader?
Coming, says Pablo.
He hopes it is true.
Terence is wandering in amongst the riders, looking for his grandpa.
Why is no one helping?
Looking for someone? asks Rafal Majka.
Grandpa, says Terence.
No grandpas here, says Rafal.
He must be lying.
(But today, Karl Marx does not look like a grandpa).
Arthur is looking for Pablo and Gaius, his team.
Gaius spots him.
Arthur! says Gaius. Where is Pablo?
Don't know, says Arthur. I'm looking.
Richie Porte hails him.
Arthur! Long time since! Bad luck about Sweezus, hey?
Yes, says Arthur. Now I'm team leader.
Me too, says Richie. It's cool.
Is it? says Arthur. I don't know. And I can't find Pablo.
Over there, says Richie. Reckon he's looking for you.
Thanks, says Arthur. Catch up later?
Sure, says Richie. We can swap team leader notes.
Can't, says Arthur. I've lost my team leader notes. Sweezus wrote them on an old sticky note.
Yeah, no worries, says Richie. Old team leader sticky notes are rubbish. I've got heaps of 'em.
What's the first one, says Arthur.
Know where your team is, says Richie.
Arthur is glad he bumped into Richie.
Got some new poems to show you! shouts Richie, as Arthur recedes.
Hola, Arthur! Gaius has found you at last, says Pablo. What is our plan?
Know where we are, says Arthur.
Alberto Contador, who is passing, overhears him.
That is not enough for a plan, laughs Alberto. Also you must not fall off.
Team Condor has no intention of falling off, says Gaius.
Nor has Team Tinkoff, says Alberto. Ah caramba! Watch out, niño!
Everyone looks down at the niño.
It's Terence.
Looking for grandpa.
Too late now. The race is starting.
The course is long, and flattish. Good for the sprinters.
Good for Mark Cavendish, who outsprints the other sprinters, and tomorrow will wear the yellow jersey.
Good for Arthur, Pablo and Gaius, who have followed sticky notes one and two to the letter.
Bad for Alberto, who hasn't.
The riders assemble.
Pablo Neruda arrives, on his own.
He wheels his bicycle past team Etixx-Quick Step.
Hey Pablo, calls Marcel Kittel. Where's your team leader?
Coming, says Pablo.
He hopes it is true.
Terence is wandering in amongst the riders, looking for his grandpa.
Why is no one helping?
Looking for someone? asks Rafal Majka.
Grandpa, says Terence.
No grandpas here, says Rafal.
He must be lying.
(But today, Karl Marx does not look like a grandpa).
Arthur is looking for Pablo and Gaius, his team.
Gaius spots him.
Arthur! says Gaius. Where is Pablo?
Don't know, says Arthur. I'm looking.
Richie Porte hails him.
Arthur! Long time since! Bad luck about Sweezus, hey?
Yes, says Arthur. Now I'm team leader.
Me too, says Richie. It's cool.
Is it? says Arthur. I don't know. And I can't find Pablo.
Over there, says Richie. Reckon he's looking for you.
Thanks, says Arthur. Catch up later?
Sure, says Richie. We can swap team leader notes.
Can't, says Arthur. I've lost my team leader notes. Sweezus wrote them on an old sticky note.
Yeah, no worries, says Richie. Old team leader sticky notes are rubbish. I've got heaps of 'em.
What's the first one, says Arthur.
Know where your team is, says Richie.
Arthur is glad he bumped into Richie.
Got some new poems to show you! shouts Richie, as Arthur recedes.
Hola, Arthur! Gaius has found you at last, says Pablo. What is our plan?
Know where we are, says Arthur.
Alberto Contador, who is passing, overhears him.
That is not enough for a plan, laughs Alberto. Also you must not fall off.
Team Condor has no intention of falling off, says Gaius.
Nor has Team Tinkoff, says Alberto. Ah caramba! Watch out, niño!
Everyone looks down at the niño.
It's Terence.
Looking for grandpa.
Too late now. The race is starting.
The course is long, and flattish. Good for the sprinters.
Good for Mark Cavendish, who outsprints the other sprinters, and tomorrow will wear the yellow jersey.
Good for Arthur, Pablo and Gaius, who have followed sticky notes one and two to the letter.
Bad for Alberto, who hasn't.
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