A flat stage. A hot day.
The teams ride along in a leisurely fashion.
Belle waits at the intermediate sprint finish.
Maybe Sweezus will win it. He said he had good legs today
Terence and Sweetpea wait with her.
Woo! says Terence. There goes Baby Pierre!
Where? asks Sweetpea.
Too late! says Terence. And he won it!
I wasn't looking, says Sweetpea.
Why not? asks Terence.
I was sad, says Sweetpea.
Why? asks Terence.
I don't know how I'll get home, says Sweetpea.
Ask Belle, says Terence.
It's a good question, says Belle. But don't worry. Someone will take you.
And I know who, probably, says Sweetpea.
Who? asks Terence.
Nicolo, says Sweetpea. Because he lives in Florence.
So he does! says Belle. You'd better start getting on his good side.
How? asks Sweetpea.
You'll think of something, says Belle.
Terence looks at Sweetpea.
Make him a poem, says Terence. I'll help you.
Great idea, says Belle. Oh look, Sweezus hasn't won the intermediate sprint. Someone else has.
This is so. It was Bryan Coquard.
Drat, says Belle. Here we are for no good reason and now we won't see the finish.
Boo! says Terence. And we can't give out food!
That's not a problem, says Belle. I asked Marcel to do it.
Down the road, Marcel the Chicken is waiting to give drinks, green olives and strawberries to Teams Philosophe and Condor.
For which they will no doubt be grateful.
Excitement builds up near the finish. The main contenders whizz round a roundabout in Nimes.
Clunk! Arrgh!
Binian Girmay is down! Is he injured? Yes.
He gets back on his bike
Who saw that tiny cyclist, on green wheels, speeding away?
No time for that now. Who is winning?
Yes... no... yes, Jacob Philipsen! just pipping Bauhaus and Kristoff.
For them, it has been a good day.
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