The Trattoria Antonio was a twenty minute drive – pretty much on the other side of London to our hotel, in a smart looking suburb. Surprisingly when we arrived it wasn’t too busy and we were quickly installed around a large round table. Unlike the chain place near the Lamplighter the waiting staff here didn’t have to fake the accents!

That was quite useful, turns out Frank speaks pretty good Italian and with minimal fuss our celebratory dinner was ordered. Rather than everyone debating over single examples Frank ordered a sort of smorgasbord of options, something for everyone including double pepperoni for yours truly. There was a salad buffet and like a flock of locust we descended on that even before the drinks arrived.

I say salad, there was a selection of pasta on offer too, the whole comparable to anything we had in Italy last year. I did have two slices of ‘my’ pizza but with four others on offer, Quattro Staggione, Pollo, Americano and good old Hawaiian, I enjoyed a more diverse meal. Coffee and Tiramasu followed, not a bad meal all done and said, Frank tapped his glass to get our attention.

“So thank you Gaby for your choice, I think we’ve all enjoyed this evening, i’m sure everyone will join me in once again congratulating you on the title and of course Tony who came so close to the podium.”

There was a bit of table slapping and jeering, typical German reaction to such an invitation.

The noise reduced and the Boss went on, “but we aren’t done in Canada yet. There are two more chances for the Rainbows, you’ll all be involved and all have that chance. So tomorrow its back to business, we’ll be going up to have a look at the Sunday’s circuit, we’ll be leaving at eight thirty so early breakfast yeah? Training kit on please but make sure you have clothes to change into after. Questions?”

I couldn’t think of anything and apparently neither could any of my team mates.

“Okay then, back to the hotel, I suggest an early night,” Frank concluded.

 
Back at the Lamplighter everyone said their goodnights and disappeared into their rooms however i’d not got my shoes off before there was a tap at my door.

“Hello?” I asked through the door.
“Its me, Tal.”

I opened the door to find not just Tali but Isolde as well.

“Well let us in then,” my teammie demanded.
I stood back, “whatever.”
“Ooh can I?” Izzy asked homing in on my latest gong hanging on the TV, “i didn’t get a look earlier.”
“Sure, so whats this about, we’re supposed to be getting an early night.”
“Gott Bond, sometimes you are so square,” Tal stated, “look what Tante Tali has.”

She waved a bottle, a wine bottle, in front of me.

“Where’d you get that?”
“It sort of slipped into my bag at the restaurant,” she advised.
“Its quite heavy isn’t it?” Iz mentioned.
“Er yeah,” I agreed before turning back to Tali, “you nicked it?”
“I like to think of it as liberation for a good cause.”
“Tal!”
“Well if you don’t want any i’m sure me and Iz can cope on our own.”
“Glasses? Corkscrew?”
“Its a screw top,” Izzy advised.
“Ta da!” Schmidt pronounced flourishing glassware clearly purloined from the breakfast room downstairs.
“Go on then,” I sighed.

 
Three girls, one bottle of red – well it was only a couple of glasses each but even though i’ve got better with alcohol my head was still throbbing when my alarm roused me the following morning. I groggily scanned the unfamiliar room, a little bit disorientated but then I spotted the rainbow striped jersey on the back of the chair, the medal hanging from the TV, the obligatory bouquet stood in the tooth glass and propped against the desk light. Canada, I won! The name’s Bond, Gaby Bond, licensed to win!

I lay staring at the gong a bit longer but a need for the facilities won out over staying under the covers and I went straight on into the shower. Ten minutes later and I was feeling a bit more human, the effects of last nights alcohol much diminished. I sorted out my kit for the day, dressed in the training gear and headed down to upload a few extra calories to fuel todays ride.

“Thought you’d be wearing the new jersey,” Innerthausen opined when I joined him at the ‘riders’ table.
“Did think about it but I don’t want to rub it in.”
“Rub it in? Oh with Tony.”
“Yeah, he was pretty down last night.”
“He’s a moody sod at the best of times.”
“Talk of the devil, morning Tone.”
“Hmm,” he allowed before grabbing a coffee cup and heading off for some caffeine.
“Like I said,” Paul told me with a shrug.

I guess i’ve got some sympathy for him, the time trial is his speciality, his one shot at a world title, he’s unlikely to be a contender in tomorrows race. Although I don’t rate my chances beyond top ten in my Sunday outing, I am in with a shout, my abilities being more all round. In many respects my win yesterday was just a sideshow, the big prize is the first across the line, winner takes all road race tomorrow.

 
Everyone, well maybe not Tony, seemed in fairly high spirits as we drove across the long, straight roads of southern Ontario countryside, the low hills of our destination rising slowly ahead of us. We didn’t have the mist this morning, instead its clear below a ceiling of white clouds, maybe it’ll be a little cooler for riding? We’d been driving for over an hour before Frank and Anneka turned to address us mere riders.

“Okay everyone,” Frank started, “the satnav reckons we’ll be in Stratford in a few minutes. This morning we’ll do a group ride around the circuit, i’m sure we won’t be the only ones on the road, i’m told the Polizei will be controlling junctions so please watch for instruction from them. We will do a lap then have a short lunch break then this afternoon we will split into the respective teams, Anneka will take the ladies, you boys get to enjoy my company.”
“So what will we do this afternoon?” Degenkolb queried.
“Good question John,” Anneka replied, “clearly with only three in each of our teams it will not be possible to dominate the races so we’ll discuss what we can do and what may be possible. Let’s be honest here, there are stronger teams, the Dutch and Italians for example, so our best chances will be from more subtle tactics. Once you’ve ridden the course we’ll have a better feel for those possibilities.”

Nothing like putting things bluntly is there? Its true, Germany isn’t a big hitter on the road, the top countries have five rider squads, even BC on the back of last years results and annoyingly the successes of me, Mand and the others, of which only Cav will actually be riding tomorrow. Yeah, that rankles big time.

 
“Everything okay Gaby?” Laurin queried as I sat on the bus step to change my footwear.
“Think so.”
“No after effects from yesterday?”
“Bit of a sore head this morning,” oops, didn’t mean to say that.
“Sore head? No, I don’t want to know, the legs are okay though, no overnight cramp?”
“Nope,” I assured her.
“Well don’t hold back if there’s anything amiss at all.”
“I won’t,” I agreed.
“Have a good ride then, i’ll catch you later.”

Izzy slid in beside me as our masseuse departed.

“What was that about?”
“Just checking whether I had cramp last night.”
“You aren’t on birth control?”
“Sorry?”
“To stop, you know, the monthly and all that stuff?”
The ball dropped, “not those sort of cramps, I had leg cramps on Thursday afternoon, after the training session.”
“Ouch, i’ve had that a couple of times, not nice.”
“Tell me about it, its not like there’s a magic bullet to sort it out.”
“Rudi, he’s my club coach says its low blood salt.”
I shrugged, “who knows, Dad reckons its something to do with getting dehydrated.”
“Maybe they’re both right,” Iz suggested.
“You two ready?” Annika called over.

 
When you look at a road map of Ontario, well more specifically southern Ontario, the impression you get is of a series of grids dropped haphazardly across the land. Look a bit closer and you’ll see that each grid relates to what I guess you might call a county division, each one having the grid in its own alignment! There are some bendy roads but most of the major routes are pretty straight regardless of what’s in the way.

Stratford, in Perth division, is a reasonable size place, our races are based on a fifty kilometre circuit in the rolling countryside to the west of the town. The boys do two laps for their 110km, the girls one full circuit with a shorter loop part way round for our 85km’s, the extra bit being into and out of Stratford. Its not all straights but its hardly twisty.

From the parking at the local high school the RCMP officers directed us out towards the circuit, we’d just about settled into a long rotation when we joined the circuit proper. Laurin had brought the minivan up loaded with the bikes so all the adults were now following us in that along the first long straight, the only thing breaking the monotony the Avon River crossing and shortly beyond that the first proper road junction.
The Mounties had the road effectively closed so there was nothing to cause issue when our team van drew alongside and Frank stuck his head out of the window.

“That’s where you girls rejoin the main circuit on your short loop.”
“Is it all like this?” Iz asked.
“Not very exciting I agree but its the same for everyone,” Frank supplied.

Jolly japes.

 
There was a bend just before we reached St Marys, two more before the Fullerton turn which put us onto an almost ten K straight. It was a bit twistier around Fullerton itself, our short circuit turns off there but we traced the North Thames (did those old settlers have no imagination?) to Mitchell. A couple more kilometres got us to Bornholm where we turned for little Germany.

Yeah, the sign said Rostock but before we got there we made a right for Wartburg. Through the town, over another river, a left turn to Sebringville, right and we were back to where we joined the circuit. It didn’t take long to get back to the parking and the bus, its gonna be a difficult circuit to get away on, there’s nowhere to hide if you do get away.

 
The organisers had a marquee thing where we could get food, think there was one at the time trial yesterday but I had other things on my mind both before and after my ride. Today though, armed with our competitors I.d.’s, we all made our way to the facility and joined the milling mass of hungry teens. The fare was mostly of the pasta variety although chips and even burgers could be had – tempting but maybe not the best choice!

“Bond!”
That voice, I turned round and there he was, Mark Cavendish, all grin and annoying good looks.
“Mark.”
He quickly joined me in the queue, “wondered if you’d be here.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“No reason, can I get the Penne please.”
“Make that two,” I requested of the woman dishing the food onto paper plates.
“Congratulations by the way, clearly last year wasn’t a fluke.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Yeah, Toynbee really thought Sarah was in with a shot.”

We shuffled along to the drinks cabinet.

“What do you want?” Cav asked.
“Er Sprite™ please, Sarah?”
He reached in and got my beverage, “here, yeah Sarah Storing.”
“Never heard of her.”
“One of Uncle Dave’s Olympic hopes, been riding the track.”
“Where’d she come then?” I hadn’t exactly studied the results from yesterday.
“Thirty something?”
“Should’ve had Mands, I reckon she’d at least have got top ten.”
“New broom,” he smirked.

 
You can’t be angry with Cav for very long, oh he can be infuriating, self centred and moody as hell but at the same time he’s a likeable rogue.

“So you been round?” I asked as we sat at one of the long tables to eat.
“We’re going round this afternoon, you?”
“This morning.”
“Any good?”
“For who? No proper climbs and hardly any bends, it’ll be difficult to get away.”
“Ripe for a big gallop then,” he grinned.
“Looks that way,” I allowed.

A big gallop, well if it is, it is but i’d rather narrow the odds in my favour a bit, I need to sound out the others but i’ve got the bare bones of an idea – not that i’m gonna tell Cav of course.

 
Maddy Bell © 22.10.2018