Oh the glamour of it all.
Everyone got wet today: the fans, the press / TV folk (that would be us), and of course the riders. When they came hurtling past us, in the shute in Tolouse this afternoon, only one of them was smiling and that would be stage winner Mark Cavendish who, up close, looks like a teenage scallywag off down the pub to meet some girls.
The rest of the lads were drenched and filthy, their faces caked with dirt like old-school racing drivers. They went straight for the bus and not one of them said a word. Then that Garmin bus was out of the parking lot faster than a Formula One Racing Car.
30 minutes later we had tracked the bus down again outside their hotel. We requested a chance to chat with a rider during their post-race pumelling but not one replied.
My guess is that right now they’re warming up in their rooms with hot baths and food to follow. Meanwhile in the glamorous world of film-production, just a few metres and a whole world away, an instant meal and a pile of petty- cash receipts to be added-up awaits me in Har-V.
I think we’re all nervous now. We’re 8 stages in and the next big test of the Tour is coming tomorrow: the first mountain stage in the Pyrenees. It will be a restless night for the true contenders have to strut their stuff tomorrow and there’ll be no hiding behind doors when the mountains come.