Rest Day Tumescence

 Rest day.

La Rochelle, in la Charente-Maritime.

A formal park, near the water.

A young woman spreads a picnic rug on the grass.

And lays out a picnic. 

Oysters cooked with maritime pine needles, Jonchée cheese, glasswort in vinegar, coucougnettes de Vert Galant (almond chocolates), vins de Jurençon....

Is it a dream? No. Belle is here.

She's called Team Philosophe and arranged to meet them in Parc Charruyer.

Darling! cries Vello. 

Papa! cries Belle. I've brought you a wonderful picnic! Hi David. Hi Sweezie. What's that you've got there?

A spit cake, says Sweezus. All the way from Loudevielle.

Everyone looks at the spit cake, which has seen better days.

Isn't it meant to have spikes? asks David.

Yes, says Vello. But this one doesn't. Can it be called a true spit cake?

If it was cooked on a spit, it can, says Belle. I suppose it was hard to transport.

Heaps hard, says Sweezus. It got soggy when it rained yesterday. Arthur said to use a hair drier. 

But you didn't, says Vello.  

Didn't have one, says Sweezus.

I don't have one either, says Belle. Sit it in the sun here, and see if it perks up a little. Meanwhile try an oyster. Try a dozen! And let me pour you a large glass of Jurençon..... 

How ineffably delightful. 

The sun filters down through the trees. Flowers bloom in peripheral flower beds.

People in masks stroll though the park in a genteel fashion.

The spit cake, in full sun, dries out nicely, and its spikes (which are formed when cake batter is spooned directly onto a spit that is slowly revolving) grow erect, soon becoming tumescent.

Cylindrical With Spikes

 Stage nine. Pau to Laruns.

The teams labour up a difficult mountain.

It's misty. 

No, it's not misty.

It's rain.

The lucky ones pull on their rain jackets, ready for the descent.

Why didn't we think to bring rain coats? grumbles Vello.

Sod's law, says David.

Marc Hirschi cruises by without effort, nibbling on a Power Bar.

Vello draws level with Sweezus.

Any snacks in that bulging pouch? asks Vello.

Three gels, says Sweezus.

It looks bigger, says Vello.

Yeah well that's a surprise for tomorrow, says Sweezus.

The picnic? says David. Well done!

What is it? asks Vello.

It won't be a surprise if I tell you, says Sweezus.

Richie Porte trundles by, overhearing.

We knew we were having a girl, says Richie. It's no less amazing.

Well this is a cake, says Sweezus.

Aha! says Vello. What sort of cake?

No way am I telling, says Sweezus.

I hope it's not getting wet, says David.

Reckon it is, says Richie, speeding up to join the main bunch.

The rest of the stage is a nightmare for Sweezus.

They know about the cake.

What if it gets ruined?

It was a special cake he bought in Loudevielle yesterday.

A spit cake.

It won't do too well in the rain.

At the end of the day he calls Arthur.

Hey, says Arthur. We've counted one Black Glossy.

Just one? says Sweezus.

So far, says Arthur. It was dead, so we probably shouldn't have. What's up?

I bought this spit cake, says Sweezus. And it looked brilliant in the shop. Cylindrical, with spikes. But I had to carry it with me in the rain this arvo and the spikes collapsed and it looks like a freakin' Swiss roll with no jam in it.

Calm down, says Arthur. Use a hair drier.

You just saved my life, bro, says Sweezus.

Who won today? asks Arthur.

Pogacar, says Sweezus. He and Roglic pipped Hirschi in the last 2k, after Hirschi was in front for the previous ninety.

That's racing, says Arthur.

Yeah, says Sweezus.

Crash Crack And Chill

 Gaius wheels his bicycle to the picnic area.

Terence is there, with Perrot and his children.

Gaius, says Terence. Guess what?

Is this your kid? asks Perrot. We were wondering where you'd got to.

Terence knew where I was, says Gaius. It was he who left me. I sent Saint Roley. Then Porntip. Where are they, by the way?

Getting married, says Terence.

How inconvenient, says Gaius. But at least I've found you. 

I hope you don't mind that I gave him a lift, says Perrot.

All's well that ends well, says Gaius. Now Terence, we must be going.

Aw, says Alfonse.

Alfonse is my friend, says Terence. He has good ideas. See my orange peel? See these holes. We made them. They're for talking.

Are they indeed? says Gaius. And have they done any talking?

Not yet, says Claudine.

I had a call from Sweezus, says Gaius. 

When? asks Terence. 

Not long ago, says Gaius. He told me to tell you that he saw an elasmosaurus.

Wow! says Claudine, who knows all about plesiosaurs. They have really long necks.

Was it alive? asks Alfonse.

Of course it wasn't, says his sister.

Sweezus? says Perrot. Isn't he from Team Condor?

Not this year, says Gaius. He's with Team Philosophe.

The old guys? says Perrot. What a come down.

It appears it was that or nothing, says Gaius. Personally I would have chosen nothing, were I him, but who am I to say? I'm usually one of the old guys.

No way! says Perrot. Are you Gaius Secundus?

I go by that name, says Gaius.

So how are they doing? asks Perrot.

So so, says Gaius. I must say, things do move fast there.

I've noticed that too, says Perrot. I bet Stage Eight's finished already.

He takes out his phone, presses a few buttons.

Yes! cries Perrot. Nans Peters of Team AG2R La Mondiale is the winner! He soloed to victory at Loudenvielle! But alas! Thibaut Pinot has cracked because of pain in his back after crashing on Stage One. What a calamity! He was one of the favourites!

Chill out, dad, says Claudine.

Number One Golden Boy

 Millau.

Sweezus arrives at the start line smelling of Roquefort cheese.

Is that what I think it is ? asks Vello.

Yep, says Sweezus. Mini baguettes as well.

Superb, says Vello. I won't ask how you got them.

Well I will, says David. Did you break out of the bubble?

Sweezus turns to see if anyone is listening. No one is.

Bang! the race starts. It's really windy.

Le vent d'Autan.

Soon the peloton is divided, as usually happens with cross winds.

The scent of Roquefort floats on the breeze.

Fast forward to later. The final sprint in Lavaur.

Peter Sagan is...oops! his chain has come off in the final sprint. Curses!

But he still wins the green jersey.

Alaphilippe's foot unclips from his pedal. 

A bad day for some. Yates keeps the yellow.

After the race, Sweezus calls Arthur, who has finally reached the burnt regions.

Hey dude!

Hi, man, says Arthur. How'd you go?

Cross winds, says Sweezus. Enough said. But I got points from the boss.

What for? asks Arthur.

Cheese, says Sweezus. Millau has these caves where they make Roquefort. I snuck out and bought some. So I'm number one golden boy now.

Who else could be? asks Arthur.

Yeah, says Sweezus. I know. Where are you?

Burnt area, says Arthur. Black at the top and green at the bottom. 

Cool, says Sweezus. Want some sheepskin gloves?

Not really, says Arthur. Why? Have you got some?

Yeah, says Sweezus. They make them here. I bought some, but turns out they don't fit me.

You idiot, says Arthur. I miss you.

Me too, says Sweezus. Yeah well, I'm going to call Gaius now. See if he's found Terence.

He calls Gaius.

Hi, it's me. Found Terence?

I'm cycling across Emu Bay as we speak, says Gaius. I'm sure he'll be...

So that's a no, says Sweezus. 

Yes, says Gaius. But don't worry. Enjoying the Tour?

Yeah pretty much, says Sweezus. Tell Terence when you see him, that I saw an elasmosaurus.

Pull the other one, says Gaius. 

In the Millau museum, says Sweezus. It had the longest neck ever.

I know what they look like, says Gaius. Now I've just arrived at the playground. No one's here. 

Shit! Call me back when you find him, says Sweezus.

Of course I will, says Gaius. I wouldn't want to ruin your day.

Wisdom From The Mouth

 Gaius is alone in the fossil beds.

He waits for Porntip to come back.

She doesn't. She has not found Terence. The playground is deserted.

She flies down to the shore.

Saint Roley is poking about in the sand for molluscs.

Roley! says Porntip. Terence is missing!

Ey-uh! says Saint Roley. Ai!

No good squeaking, says Porntip.

He'll be with that family, says Saint Roley. We needn't worry.

Unless he isn't, says Porntip.

Eu-hoo, says Saint Roley.

I believe you're reverting to birdhood, says Porntip. I like it.

Perhaps it's not too late to make a nest after all.

....

Terence is with Perrot and his children in the picnic area, not far from the playground.

The children eat ham and cheese sandwiches, Perrot a meat pie. 

Terence explains why he's not eating.

I never do, says Terence.

A slight exaggeration.

Why do you have all that orange peel? asks Claudine. 

In case it gets feelings, says Terence.

How will you know if it does? asks Claudine.

Terence hasn't thought about this much.

My turnip pieces had feelings, says Terence. And they died.

So if the orange peel dies, you'll know, says Claudine. Too late though.

I know! says Alfonse. Make little holes in them.

What for? asks Terence.

Talking, says Alfonse.

Wisdom, from the mouth of a babe. 

......

Gaius tires of waiting for Porntip. 

He will have to do something himself.

He gets on his bike and cycles to the western end of Emu Bay.

It's hard going, on sand.

He thinks of Team Philosophe, who are currently, by his estimation, climbing the Col de la Lusette.

He imagines the scene.

Vello: We've got no chance. Take it easy.

David: I am.

Sweezus: I'll make a move shall I?

Vello: Go for it. You might realise your dream of being King of the Mountain.

Sweezus accelerates, and ....

So much for Gaius's sand-fuelled imagination.

In fact Alexey Lutsenko has already crested the Col.

A hard climb of 12 k and 7.3% incline.

Behind him is Jesús Herrada, unable to match him.

Alexey speeds to a solo victory at Mont Aigoual to loud cheering.

For years he has dreamed of this day.

A Secret Sorrow

 On Kangaroo Island, the afternoon wears on.

Gaius is thinking of leaving Emu Bay, and following Arthur and Louisa.

From the fossils, to the burnt regions.

He says so to Porntip.

But what about Terence? asks Porntip. Would you like me to find him?

That would be most kind, says Gaius. And may I say you make an excellent companion.

Thank you, says Porntip. I mask a secret sorrow.

What might that be? asks Gaius.

Nesting season, says Porntip, and no nest.

Commiserations, says Gaius.

Porntip flies off.

Gaius walks across to his back pack for an orange.

Curses! The oranges are gone.

His phone rings. It's Vello, in France.

Good afternoon, says Vello. Am I interrupting your lunch?

No, says Gaius. An orange would have been nice. But Arthur has them.

I sympathise, says Vello. If only Belle were here. We would be swimming in treats. Did you know that Privas, where the Tour finished today, is famous for its chestnut cream?

No I didn't says Gaius. Couldn't you go out and buy some?

No! says Vello. Because of this blasted bubble!

Dear me, says Gaius. And how's Team Philosophe doing racewise?

So so, says Vello. Sweezus's heart's not in it.

I'm not surprised, says Gaius. Is yours?

No, says Vello. You know me. I like intrigue and shenanigans.

But surely, says Gaius, there's scope for intrigue and shenanigans.

I generally rely on some young accomplice of Terence to upset things, says Vello. Such as Baby Pierre with his fluoroelastane wheels, remember? 

Gaius does remember. There were various accidents in previous years. Unattributed.

Alaphilippe lost the yellow jersey today, says Vello. 

I didn't know he had it, says Gaius.

Well, he did, says Vello. But he was docked twenty seconds for taking a drink in the last twenty kilometres. Now Yates has it.

What a way to get it, says Gaius.

What a way, agrees Vello. Well, better go. Sorry to hear about the orange.

Sorry to hear about the chestnut cream, says Gaius.

The call ends, on this note elegaic.

Is It Night? Sorry.

 Stage Three is over

Caleb Ewan has won.

Alaphilippe has retained the yellow jersey. (Must be those tubed clinchers).

Sweezus calls Gaius from France.

Yes? says Gaius.

Is Terence with you?

Not at the moment, says Gaius. He’s at a playground.

Who with? asks Sweezus.

Saint Roley, says Gaius. Why do you want him?

Just thought I’d tell him how the Tour’s going, says Sweezus.

How IS it going? asks Gaius.

Not the same, says Sweezus.

Should I tell Terence that? asks Gaius.

Nah, says Sweezus.

What then? asks Gaius. Make it snappy.

This is because it is an inconvenient time to be talking, due to the time difference.

Tell him everyone here looks like a burglar, says Sweezus.

He’ll like that, says Gaius. Anything else I should tell him?

Tell him I’ll bring him back a present, says Sweezus.

Very good, says Gaius. I’ll tell him. Good night.

Fuck, says Sweezus. Is it night there? Sorry.

Yes it is night. And Gaius has realised that Terence should be back from the playground.

What a nuisance.

And it’s a nuisance for us all as well.

What if we agree that, for the time being..... time’s moving faster in France.

It’s still afternoon on Kangaroo Island.

So Terence is not late back from the playground.

Gaius is still searching for fossils with Porntip. The sun shines on the lichen. She's happy.

Arthur and Louisa have not yet reached the burnt regions.

A baby Glossy Black Cockatoo has fallen out of the sheoak.

Its parents are frantic. Wark!

But at least they can see him.

 At the same time in France, it’s three or four days in the future, (and counting).

Look at it this way. We’re now three or four days behind.