Quick pronunciation update here, nice and simple one Megeve. Simply change the g for a j and make it fairly soft. So, with me...Mejeve. Slight trick by the French who do love to get rather bored, shrug their shoulders and walk off before the end of a word but on this occasion they decided to stick with it, so please make sure you say Majeve, including the final e and that e is not a hard e, it's a French e. Well done.
First night in Saint Gervais as we and everyone else, including sign writers and makers of tat call it which is a bit harsh for my old judo instructor Les Bains, was fine and we made our way to town earlyish to pick up lunch and breakfast before heading to the course. Time trials start much earlier than normal stages and we actually missed the first rider who started at 10:45.
The ride from Saint Gervais to the course was no more than 5 miles, mostly easy climbing. This was despite the fact that I decided to take both flag poles with me today, which involved using cable ties on my rucksack to stop the poles falling out. We joined the course at a very busy roundabout and made our way down to a slightly quieter section. Certainly by the time the big names came through I'm pretty sure all of the road was lined on both sides of its 17km length.
I spent way too long faffing about with the flags
before deciding that the big flag was too big as it was going to be in people's faces, so I settled for the small one. This was despite people around me telling me to keep it up but the glare from the camper van behind was getting fairly intense.
You very quickly settle in to a pattern on the time trial, as I mentioned before it's a very good way of taking photos but you see a rider go through and in roughly 2 minutes another will
follow. In between you chat, move around a bit, sit down, have a drink and then you stop what your doing and clap another one through. This does change slightly with the lead riders where we do all stay in the same place and look like we are paying attention.
The crowd around us was as ever a mixed bunch and in the main were very friendly. At this point I should mention the lovely motorhome owner yesterday on the mountain who filled up our bottles from a watering can that he had filled from the waterfall.
We chatted to a couple of Brits who were on a walking holiday (one of which I gave a green skoda hat to).
A Dutch family who had clearly given the Dad the day to enjoy himself while they sat in the boiling sun sort of enjoying themselves. He found everything very funny and was clearly loving it.
A Frenchman in the worst dinner jacket and bow tie cycling jersey who though I didn't speak to him, I understand knew his stuff.
We spoke to other Brits, one of which asked me what my other flag was, Middlesex.
Just along from us were the Slovaks and next to them some Dutch. One of the Dutch women would get out of her chair and cross the road and scream encouragement just to the Dutch riders as if she was their personal coach.
Along from them was a man with 6 cow bells over his shoulders.
Back up the road we could see some Colombians with a German moto
rhome next to them, followed by a motorhome sporting an Aussie flag.
Oh and the usual Norwegian Viking helmets.
Interspersed with all this were pockets of french, deeply loyal to their own riders, I suspect more so than some of the other nations that just love the sport.
And then there was the motorhome behind where we were. It wasn't on the road, it was in a sort of layby facing the road. For the first two
hours we hardly saw them, apart from when they came out to tut at big flag. Then they set up a table and had lunch, still paying no attention to the race going on 15 yards away. The post lunch entertainment, not the cycling you will note was for her to, what appeared to us, check his hair for nits. Eventually and it really was eventually, they sauntered to the side of the road, with two stools and a parasol and set about watching some time trialling. To be fair he did invite one of our original Brit friends to join him under the parasol. I suspect this was part of his plan as a few minutes later the Brit was sent to tell me that the small flag was getting in the way of his photos from his stool. I was possibly getting a bit excited and the flag was dropping a bit (or I was trying to get on the tele). In the spirit of the event I did move the flag out of his line of sight (a line I was very much in first) and he said thank you.
We cheered them through, each specific bunch giving there rider and extra cheer and after Froome went through with the helicopter and extensive entourage, it was time to pack up, head back to the roundabout and head home the 5 miles back to Ricky Gervais. The Tour traffic was no different today but again cars were held to let bikes and pedestrians away first.
We arrived back in to Saint Gervais and had a 3 scoop ice cream (for those keeping a record it was 2 x mango and 1 x choc mint and yes it is a strange choice and no it didn't work). I nearly took out the eye of the woman behind me in the queue when I took off my rucksack forgetting that the flag poles
were sticking out.
I then hit two parasols as I made my way to the tat shop, so it felt like like a good time to head for home.
The evening was back in to town for dinner, giving the car a one mile spin and dinner was a strangely doughy pizza. We did get a very nice spot outside which was next to the pavement and Chris saw Ned Boulting (ITV4 Tour coverage and this year stepped up to commentate) and called him over as if he knew him. This clearly surprised Ned, who responded in a way that he seems to forget that he is on television. However he was absolutely charming in the face of me wittering on about Jamie and Gary meeting him in Bern, me meeting him previously in Boulogne 4 years ago and finally asking a sensible question about what it was like making the transition to commentator. I did also manage to mention my trip to which he I think he simply asked 'How?' There were lots of handshakes and pleasantries and when we were leaving he was just coming in to the restaurant and we exchanged 'Good end to the Tour' pleasantness and there was even a hand on the shoulder and see you in Paris...lovely bloke.
He was also with professional cycling marmite David Millar, who was on the phone all the time, while still booking a table at the restaurant and telling Ned, which bar they were going to. He didn't trouble himself with us two but to be honest there was no reason he needed to. A very busy bloke.
And that was stage 18, three to go, weather is expected to turn now for the next two in the Alps and then it's the 6.5 hour drive to Paris.
Stat zone
Miles driven - 2755
Miles cycled - 285
Cheese of the day - Rocamadour (lovely soft cheese)
Number of different places I tried putting big flag on its pole before giving up - 5
Number of different places I watched riders go past - Approx 50
Rider who for the biggest cheer - Geraint Thomas (closely followed by Richie Porte)
The view of the valley
Nearly a great photo of runner up Dumoulin but I lost half a wheel
A flag and a Dutch boy wonders why
World time trial champion preferring a flatter course
Dan Martin possibly not enjoying it
I like this picture
I should add that despite having called Ned over as if we'd been close friends for years, Tim's scepticism at this approach soon change as he hijacked the conversation. My only input was to say hello, introduce ourselves and wish him best....
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