Great! A flat stage. Some of the men are quite tired.
I am heartily tired of this Tour, says David, as he pushes up a hillock.
I am too, says Vello. The road here feels sticky.
Let us sing to keep up our spirits, says N F S Grundtvig.
Why not? says David.
They coast down a hill.
I thought this was supposed to be flat stage, says Vello.
On average, I suppose it is, says David. Come on, lift us up, Grunty!
Grunty sings. (The words pour out. He doesn't plan it).
O lord, we don't mean to complain, but if this is a flat stage, the French have deceived us again.
Ha ha, laughs Vello. That's capital!
Team Philosphe pushes on, with renewed spirit.
Hear that? says Geraint Thomas who just happened to be passing.
Yeah, I did, says his Ineos team mate. Well, not all of it.
French, says Geraint Thomas. He's tipping a Frenchman today.
That rules you out, says his team mate.
But who? muses Geraint.
Yeah, who? muses his team mate.
Wout van Aert said he had bad legs today, says Geraint.
How do you know? asks the team mate.
Radio interview, says Geraint. He literally said it.
Oh yeah, (the penny drops for the team mate). They'll let Laporte go for it.
Come on, says Geraint, I don't want to lose my third place in the G C because we're nattering.
They zoom off rapidly, up the next hillock, determined.
Here comes someone we haven't seen for some time.
Baby Pierre.
He does not look tired, He has just been refreshed with salt water.
He zips into a field of sunflowers, just for the fun of it.
And zips out again.
He thinks of Sirene.
She has followed him all the way from Denmark, and he has never asked why.
Maybe he ought to.
But come on!
Let's see if Geraint is right.
(not N F S Grundtvig, who was not predicting).
Would you believe it?
Christophe Laporte of Team Jumbo-Visma is the winner. A French guy!
The first one this tour.
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