It took a little while to get our trucks up and running this morning. I had a fear of that, when, while walking into the compound, some of the French were pointing at the power bay of their truck in confusion, and none of their lines were connected. Sure enough, our trucks had no power. When this happens, it’s off to catering with you, to see what Philippe has cooking up for breakfast. At least, for a cup of some of that FABULOUS European coffee.
I wish I had a tripod. Or at least a monopod. I’ve been taking some pictures in an effort to stitch them together to create grand landscapes. Some of them have come out great, others, not so much.Tonight was the second-longest drive in this year’s Tour. 5 ½ hours. What’s worse, I had to stay a little later in the truck to feed some footage back to Stamford, so it was getting pretty late already. I let my carmates go on ahead, and invited myself in Leslie, Brett, and Polk’s car. Riding in their car was a nice change of pace, and it gave me a new audience for my multiple impressions. Of which I have a couple good ones in my arsenal.
Arrival in the small town of Bonnat was around 1:30am. Not horrible considering, and not the last ones to arrive, despite being the last ones to leave. Although I’m sure my mother doesn’t want to hear about it, Polk took the C5 up to 199KPH, a new record. I’ll let you do the math as to how that translates into MPH.
When will the French learn?? Never leave your bar unattended when Americans come to town! I walked downstairs to find Eric and Mel drinking a bottle of port they just so happened to find behind the bar. We borrowed some glassware and headed out to the pool, bottles in hand.
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