On the 23rd of January, we spent the night in Goolwa, SA… Husband had to wake up next day at 4 AM so I could drive him to Mannum for the 4th Stage of the Tour Down Under.
You got to love to suffer, let me tell you… Anyway, he woke up, dressed up, prepared,
kissed the bike, and made me drive him 111 Km to Mannum.
and back – so I could pick up the kids (who were left sleeping) and drive them to Strathalbyn, to cheer and pray to God we could see dad amongst 3400 other cyclist, wearing the same darn ocre jersey.
I know it sounds that doing too much laundry made the fumes go up to my brain, but I did just that. And smiling.
Since it was really early (around 6:50 AM), I stopped at the gas station for coffee and – to my surprise, I found myself on the corner where all the cyclist would go by after the start of the ride – and right in front of a fantastic sculpture made of (of course) bike parts !!
First came the Police…
followed by a deluge of bikers that was so huge…
I stood there for a full 18 minutes and when I left, not all of them had passed yet !!!
As predicted, take too many men wearing the same outfit, doing the same thing, under a 40C sun, and you have a frustrating wait for someone you (gasp) actually get to see (but not photograph) at the finish line.
And when 3 thousand 4 hundred cyclists go on the Tour Down Under carrying their cell phones, can you guess what they do as soon as they arrive and second to taking their shoes off ? They CALL.
Their wives, mothers, kids, neighbors, bosses, who knows. All I know is that after we actually saw Lance Jr arriving, we lost him. For a full 1.5 hours.
Ah – and hubby does not know how to text or answer to text messages – we figured it out that day. All lines busy, for ever. No comment.
(end of part III – to be continued)
