Day Three, Part Two
For dinner last night we were installed in a private dining room, which of course makes everyone in the party feel super fancy. It really had this vibe of 19th century Paris, especially with the chandeliers on the walls, the procession of dainty, well-presented food and the army of attentive waiters. I expect the conversation was easily bawdy enough to have passed in some of the less reputable salons...
Suffice it to say that the subject of chamois cream, an necessity for a trip like this, came up and stayed up. Given the body parts serviced by chamois cream, it was a ready gateway to more lurid topics. This was endlessly amusing in the tipsy atmosphere of the room. Really, the best part was the conversational crossings...everyone was speaking over each other, and mostly in euphemisms. This had the effect of no one knowing exactly what anyone else was talking about (or trying not to know), except that it was not, shall we say, polite dinner convo. *Break here for an inside joke, as per the diners' request that it be recorded for posterity- Available soon: Desmond's Patented Homemade Nunu Cream, soon available direct from his bathtub to stores near you! Nonnie tested, and doctor approved.So there's that.
Day Four
Woke this morning, as every morning, to the sound of the cathedral bells. It is a very Old World sound and not at all unpleasant as a wake up call. It always reminds me of the Poe poem...y'know, the one about bells?
Hear the tolling of the bells-Iron Bells!
What a world of solemn thought their
monody compels!
My alarm clock.
Anyway. Today we were joined by two of Jaume's racing friends Miguel (climber extrordinaire) and David (not sure exactly what David specializes in...just know he's very strong. after riding to our hotel to meet us, his heart rate was 38. thirty. eight.). Miguel was actually with us for the last two days, helping to put the hurt into Mike and Desmond, who otherwise would be having much too easy a time.
The ride was a 100km jaunt out to the coast and back, with three climbs. The first was Els Angels. This climb, just outside Girona, is apparently the one Lance Armstrong used to test himself...he tried to get up it in 17 min. I don't have a cyclometer, so I don't know exactly how long it took us. I'm going to go with...longer. At the top of the climb is the beautiful Els Angels sanctuary, which, factoftheday, is where Salvador Dali wed his one true love Gala in 1958. There's nothing like clomping around a silent church in bike shoes and spandex to make you feel like an irreverant boob. The descent was fun and fast- DarcoDescender was sitting on the ground halfway through a powerbar by the time the rest of us rolled up.
Darco and Nonnie atop Els Angels
Next was a big ol hammerfest (thanks Miguel and David) across the relative flats to the La Ganga climb which would get us to Calonge, our lunch spot on the coast. The crosswinds here were just murder...especially as a bunch of us are riding Ksyriums or other bladed-spoke wheels which get thrown around like tumbleweeds. It's damn scary when your front wheel just hops right out from under you in a tight paceline or fast descent.
Desmond, Jack and David on the way to Romanya
After lunch it suddenly turned freeeeeezing cold and the wind picked up even more. Fortunately for us, we were but 10k away from our next climb. Yay! This one was called Romanya, and it started out at a very manageable 5%, then kicked up to 7% for the last 2k. Nonnie, David, Miguel and Desmond sprinted it out for the top. I like to think Nonnie won, but I couldn't see. There were more sprints to come as we made our way home. For some reason they were all uphill sprints...neither Nonnie nor Darco were pleased by this, but they still gave those Spaniards a run for their money.
Nonnie was so knackered after today's ride, she couldn't bring herself to get up and go inside for about 15 minutes. Musta been all them sprints.Tomorrow is a recovery day! I will mostly be focused on doing whatever I can to help myself survive Saturday's climbs...
