26 May 2018
I dusted off my bicycle this morning. We just haven’t had time or inclination to cycle this year yet. I didn’t go far, just along the lane to the poubelles with a sack of rubbish.
Right now I am watching the Giro d’Italia, Italy’s version of the Tour de France. I’ve never watched it before. I thought Maglia Rosa was winning until I discovered that’s the equivalent of the Yellow Jersey, in this case a nice shade of pink. I’ve followed the tour from the start in Jerusalem and first three stages in Israel, across to Sicily, and then up through the mountains and glorious scenery of Italy. Tomorrow’s final ends in Rome.
Chris Froome had an early fall in Jerusalem and didn’t seem to be performing well, he was down to twelfth place at one point. Yesterday he made an early break nearing the top of a mountain and stayed ahead on his own for 80 kms, winning the stage and taking the pink jersey. Right now he is just starting the final climb of the day positioned well towards the front of the peloton.
Six kms to go, all up hill, and Froome and Dumoulin are playing cat and mouse trying to break away from each other. Out of a tunnel and Froome has managed to break from Dumoulin. Paul is sitting on the edge of the sofa. Rick is asleep. Dumoulin is back. Mikel Nieve wins the stage but the winner of the Italia is going to be .................. (providing he doesn't fall off his bike) Chris Froome! Yay!
I really should squeeze into my lycra again.