Thursday, another day at the grindstone, well figuratively, the Cabin isn’t like super hard work like bricklaying but nevertheless it can be quite tiring. Not that I’m complaining, the money is quite welcome of course and as Mum keeps telling me, we’re learning invaluable skills. Whatever, I get to hang with my Bestie most days, my other friends not so much and Max stops for lunch nearly every day – not a bad life.

However, my day was shattered a bit after ten.

"Looks like customers,” Con suggested with a flick of her head.

I looked out only to find the entire English Bond clan descending on us.

"I want chips,” Charlie was demanding.
"You’ve only just had breakfast,” Aunt Jill advised as the troops were herded into the garden.
"Come and sit with Nanna.”
"Apple juice!” Violet pronounced.
"Those girls are cute,” Nen suggested.
"My cousins,” I mentioned with a sigh, guess I need to say hi, "Hi Gramps, Nanna.”
"Gabrielle?”
"Yes Nanna.”
"Didn’t realise this was where you work,” Gramps mentioned as he settled a Munchkin onto a chair.
"Yup, this is it, so what are you all up to?”
"The cablecar,” Uncle Jim advised.
"Thought we’d get a coffee first,” Aunt Kath put in.

And so, after a lot of debate from the younger visitors I sorted out the drinks order. Nen set to with the hot drinks, Con with the cold and I dropped a basket of Frites into the oil.

 

"Here we go,” I announced a few minutes later as I delivered a tray of beverages.

I distributed the various drinks before adding several small plates of chips in front of my small cousins.

"Chips!” several voices chorused in delight.
"Gab?” Kath queried.
"On the house, can’t have dissatisfied customers can we eh Daisy?”
"What do you say kids,” Nanna prompted.

A broken chorus of tiny ‘thank you Gaby’s’ barely broke the input of fried potato. Okay, it was maybe a bit naughty of me but it wasn’t so long ago I was getting the ‘no you can’t’ stuff from the olds. Probably score a few Brownie points with them all too, not sure I came out in the best of lights on Tuesday what with Mum’s bragging and revelations about my singing ‘career’.

"My pleasure.”

 

I was saved from too much familial interaction by the arrival of more customers demanding my culinary expertise – hey, there’s an art to cooking Schnitzel!

"Have a nice time!” I called out as the tribe departed.
"We’ll try,” Uncle Sam replied as he assisted the child herding.
"Have a good day Gaby,” Gramps mentioned before ducking into the window to give me a kiss on the forehead, "See you tomorrow eh?”
"Yes Gramps.”
"Come on Stanley, let the girl alone,” Nanna chivvied.
"Bye Gramps, bye Nanna!”
"Gabrielle.”

And they were gone.

 

So, what with it being Thursday, training day, I get to finish earlier.

"You getting changed?” Nen enquired.
I glanced at my watch, "Oh sugar, I thought there was ages yet.”
"You were rather engrossed in Stern,” Con snickered.

Okay, not my usual reading matter but there are some interesting articles.

"Don’t think you’re in it this issue,” Nena opined.
"Hmmph!”

 

I was still readjusting the girls, how comes they move so much in sports bras, but only when you’re dressing? Oh yeah.

"She ready?” Mand’s voice queried from the front.
"She’s just coming,” I advised even as I rearranged my bib straps on the way to the front.
"Gab!” Con hissed.
"Hmm?”
"What if there were customers?”
"Shouldn’t be looking.”
"You could be a bit more ladylike,” Mand suggested, "Anyhow, you ready?”
"Just need to get the bike.”

There was a group snigger from the others.

"What?”
"You might want to put on a jersey?” Nen prompted.
My hands automatically moved to confirm the actions of my lips, "I’ve got one … on,” Bum, no I haven’t, "Er right back.”
"I’ll get your bike,” Mand called to my departing back.

 

"You’re face.”
"It wasn’t funny,” I grumped as we started the Effelsberg climb a few minutes later.
"We did tell you.”
"Yeah,” I moodily agreed.
"So why’re you being more of a ditz than usual, Max?”
"No and I’m not a ditz,” I complained.
She gave me a look, "So what's up?”
"Nothing.”
"Oh come on Gabs, how long have we known each other?”
"A year.”
"Your being pedantic now.”
"Whatever.”
"So what’s up?”
"Really, its nothing important.”
"And?” she pushed.
"My cousins.”
"Con said they were at the kiosk earlier.”
"Yeah, its just a bit, I don’t know, sad, that we don’t get to see each other much.”
"You great softy!”
"Hmm.”

Conversation stopped as we hit the steeper grades – we are supposed to be training.

"I’ve got rels I’ve never seen,” Mand advised.
"Doesn’t that make you sad?”
"Not really, works both ways, they could come see us if they’re bothered.”
"I guess,” I admitted, "I suppose my lot have come over to see us.”
"There you go.”
"Yeah, I suppose we didn’t exactly see a lot of anyone before we moved.”
"So you going to this fashion show thingy?”

 

There was an unfamiliar car on the drive when we got back home, a black Audi with Frankfurt plates.

"Hello?” I called upstairs as I shucked shoes and stuff.

I could hear mumbled voices up above, I was stripped to bra and shorts before there was any sort of reply from above.

"That you Gab?” Dad queried.
"Yeah, we just got back, who’s car’s that?”
"In a bit, get yourself showered and changed and come through to the office.”
"What’s up?”
"You want me?” Mand asked from behind me.
"No Mand, just Gabs if you don’t mind.”
"Fine, I need to get ready for work anyhow.”
"Gab?”
"Yes Dad.”
"Quickly please.”

This doesn’t sound good, he’s sounding pretty serious, has something happened to Mum, or Gran?

 

"Sit yourself down kiddo.”

I’d done the shower, dress thing in record time, well for me anyhow, just under fifteen minutes.

"This is Herr Obermayer from the Federation.”
"Er hi.”
"Hello Gabrielle.”
"Er just Gaby, so what's going on?”

Well its not Mum or Gran at least.

"Dave?” the official offered.
"Be my guest.”
"There’s no easy way to say this Gaby, one of your drug tests has come up positive.”
"What?”

Talk about unexpected.

 

"Its a joke right?” I got out as the words congealed into a sentence.
"I’m afraid not,” Herr Obermayer mentioned with a sigh.
"How? When?”
"At the Frankfurt Rundfahrt,” Dad supplied.

It took me a moment to recall that particular race, it was like months ago.

"I have to inform you that your A sample has returned a positive result for Testosterone, you may request an independent test on the B sample, should this confirm the A sample results there will be a hearing and disciplinary action will be taken. In the meantime your race licence is revoked until such time as any hearings or suspensions are completed.”
"No, you can’t do this, we’re racing in Spain in a fortnight, Dad?”
"Sorry Gab, we have to jump the hoops, we’ll get it sorted.”

The irony hit me then, Testosterone, the stuff my body’s inability to produce was the nail in the coffin of any pretentions I had of maleness.

"What now Frank?” Dad asked.
"Get the B sample tested as soon as, the Federation are keen to process everything as quickly as possible, whichever way it goes. For what its worth I think its an error but that's off the record, we have to do it by the book.”
"Thanks Frank, guess I need to make some calls.”
"Nice to meet you Gaby, sorry its not in happier circumstances.”
"Er yeah,” I allowed.

 

"What am I gonna do Dad?”
"We’ll handle it, now I’ve got to ask this kiddo, you’ve not taken anything have you?”
"Dad!”
"I had to ask, we’ll get it sorted.”
"What about Spain?”
"For now we continue as normal, if we have to change plans, well we’ll cross that bridge when we get there eh?”

 

Maddy Bell © 08.01.2018

 

 
Look, I know that my chosen sport has not exactly been at the forefront of catching drug cheats and sometimes the clean / not clean line has become somewhat blurred. On the other hand if you compete at the top level the chances of getting caught are quite high with after race and even out of competition testing becoming more common. BC in particular have been very hardline and when you are at international level the testing can be almost intrusive.

Now its been drummed into me by Mum, Dad, the guys at BC that drugs are bad and will not be tolerated at any level. You remember the hoops we had to jump through last year just so I could take properly proscribed medicines. So to be ‘accused’ of drug abuse and especially Testosterone is like, well devastating.

As you might imagine I didn’t sleep much, how could I get a positive result?

 
My enthusiasm for breakfast, work – well life was, well, zilch.

“How’re you doing kiddo?” Dad asked.
“Okay,” I mumbled.
“We’ll get it sorted, i’m taking the B sample to the lab this morning, they’ll process it straight away.”
“It can’t return positive can it?”
“I don’t know Gab, I really don’t know, now are you gonna be okay today?”
“Are we still going up to see Nanna and Gramps?”
“I should be back for that, you sure you’re alright for work?”
“What will I do otherwise?” I queried.
“There is that I suppose,” he allowed, “just try to not get in a state eh.”
Might be easier said than done, “I’ll try.”

 
I tried to stay upbeat at the Kiosk, i agreed with the rents to keep things private for now and a hint at ‘womens issues’ prevented extended interrogation of my malais. I was getting through the day reasonably well, I think, considering so I was surprised when Mum rolled up just after twelve.
“What are you doing here?” I asked after decamping to a garden table.
“The girls were concerned and rang,” she told me.

I shot an accusatory look at Con and Kris over in the cabin.

“I’m fine.”
“No you’re not Gab, this is a major thing kiddo, we’ll get through this together eh?”
“Hmm.”
“Your Dad rang from Bonn, we should have the results on Monday.”
“Monday, that's days away.”
“Only a couple, the tests take time kiddo.”
“I was supposed to be going with the girls next week, I guess that's out now.”
“I don’t see why, regardless of the outcome it won’t make any difference where you are.”
“Why now Mum, the Rundfart was weeks ago?”
“They don’t need to rush through their tests, the lab will get loads of tests and just work through them, we on the other hand need a quick turnaround so we pay for it to be done quicker.”
“I guess,” I allowed, “so what if this comes up positive too? I never took anything Mum, I swear.”
the tears started to flow, quickly developing into bigger sobs.
“Here,” a wodge of tissues were thrust into my hand, “lets not jump the gun eh? We’ll wait for the results and then decide what to do. I spoke to Caro earlier.”
“I thought we weren’t telling anyone?” I accused. Regardless of the final result, if it gets out i’ve been suspended and why everyone will be finger pointing.
“Its Caro, she won’t go spouting it about kiddo.”
“I guess not.”
“Anyhow,” Mum went on, “there might be some complication and potentially a loophole if we need it, as you were not riding as a German citizen at the time BC could potentially issue you a licence for Spain.”
“Isn’t that cheating?”
“Like I say its a loophole.”
“What about my titles?”
“You might have to forfeit them kiddo.”
“Thats so unfair, I haven’t done anything wrong,” I pretty much spat.
Mum patted my hands, still gripping the soggy tissues, “I know you haven’t luv but sometimes life isn’t fair.”
“I guess,” I agreed.
“Look, I’m not racing this weekend, how about the two of us have a girls day out?”
“I’m racing though.”
“No you’re not luv,” she mentioned squeezing my hands.

It was harsh but true and set off the waterworks again.

 
With Mand working at Der Mühle again and Jules conspiring to be in Bonn it was just me, Mum and Dad who drove up to Adenau to see the rels before they go home in the morning. I wasn’t exactly in the mood, my parents were doing their best to keep conversation light and off the Elephant. Mum cajoled me into one of my nicer dresses and Mand braided my locks before she left for work, I might not feel great but at least I look okay.

The holiday let wasn’t actually in Adenau but just outside in Wimbach, i’d seen foreign cars there in the past so I was able to tell the olds where it was – Uncle Sam’s directions having been a bit ambiguous. We were in Mums car, just as well as the British contingents vehicles filled the lane, Dad parked us in a tiny space on the main road.

“No Juliette?” Aunt Kath queried as she led us through to the garden.
“Up in Bonn sorting stuff for Uni,” Mum supplied. Well it wasn’t strictly the truth but she could hardly tell the truth could she?
“I guess we’ve got all that to look forward to eh? You look very nice Gaby.”
“Er thanks.”

The flock of cousins were a bit less timid with us this end of the week, not that Ollie was much better behaved but Rosie, Violet and Daisy were at least more forthcoming. Indeed I found myself being dragged off to see their holiday ‘treasures’ and the pictures on Rosie’s little camera. Yeah, not exactly David Bailey as Dad would say but she was proud of them.

I found myself being instructed on the rides at Phantasialand, how German people say ‘bitter’ after everything and there was a ferry across the river too.

“Where’s Max?” Violet asked.
“He has to help his daddy in their restaurant.”
“West wont?” Daisy queried.
“Its a fancy place to eat, they live in a castle,” I boasted.
“Max is a pwince?”
“Well,” how do I explain this?
“That makes you a princess,” Violet stated with some authority.
“Wow, Pwincess Gabwielle!” Daisy announced.
“Ah,” I started but I was perhaps saved by their mother.
“Come on girls, time to wash up, dinners nearly ready.”

 
Of course whilst the ‘cottage’ could sleep six adults and seven littlies, the dining arrangements were somewhat stretched, I guess the owners never expected the incumbents to want to entertain. My Aunts had somehow put together a kiddy friendly sausage and mash, I guess they brought the meat tubes with them, for my older cousins, at least I got the ‘adult’ menu, a pretty standard lasagne with a green salad.

“Your Mum was saying you got some award at school Gabrielle?” Nanna prompted.
Muu-um.
“Er yeah,” I admitted, “I got the best marks on the final exams, they give a prize for it.”
“On everything?” Uncle Jim asked.
“Well,” I mumbled.
Dad interjected, “not everything.”
“I didn’t do so well in English,” I admitted.
“She was best at German,” Mum stated in my defence.

My relatively poor English skills were chortled at, much to my further embarrassment.

“Erm, I got the little ones some presents,” I offered in an attempt at diverting the conversation.
“You shouldn’t have,” Uncle Sam told me.
“Well its not much, really, I’ll go fetch them.”
“I’ll give you a hand Gaby,” Gramps stated.

“Are you really okay Gaby?” Gramps asked as I opened the cars hatch to retrieve the bag of goodies.
“Yeah, course, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Your Dad told me about this test business."
“Oh, does Nanna know?”
“No, and she won’t hear it from me, so?”
“Its so unfair Gramps, I haven’t done anything wrong but I’m not allowed to race, what happened to innocent until proved guilty?”
“I guess they consider the test as proof,” he tempered.
“Its still not fair,” I sighed.

Gramps pulled me into a hug, what is it about that simple contact that is so comforting?

“Your Mum says you’re going out shopping tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“You got spending money?”
“I do work Gramps.”
“That isn’t what I asked, here,” he slipped some paper into my hand, “don’t tell your Nanna.”

I didn’t look to see what it was, i’m guessing money.

“Thanks Gramps,” I gave him another squeeze.
“Now come on, they’ll be wondering where we’ve got to.”

 
The littlies were well taken by their gifts, not so sure Aunt Kath was quite so happy with the makeup for the older girls but ke sera. Not that the kids got much chance to play, they were soon bidding goodnight and being hurried to their beds. With Mum driving us home Dad joined his family for some alcohol, I did sneak an extra glass of wine.

“I’ll speak to you soon Son,” Gramps mentioned to Dad.
“As soon as I know Dad.”
“Don’t tell your Gramps,” Nanna instructed pushing more paper into my hand.
“Thanks Nanna,” I allowed giving her a farewell squeeze.
“And Gabrielle?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t make me a great grandma just yet eh?”
“Sarah,” Gramps admonished as my face turned quite warm and pink.
“I won’t.”

There were more inter adult farewells, promises of actions and so on but eventually we climbed into the A and with Speedy von Bond at the wheel we set off for home.

 
“That wasn’t so bad,” Mum opined.
“At least I didn’t end up babysitting,” I stated.
“You would’ve been outnumbered,” Dad noted.
“Ouch!”
“Whats up?” Mater enquired.

I fished into my decollotage and recovered the paper Gramps had given me, well I didn’t have my bag handy did I?

“Wow!”
“What?”
“Two hundred euros.”
“Eh?”
“Road Jen,” Dad suggested as she had us squiggling down Adenau Hauptstrasse.
“Gramps gave me two hundred euros.”
“I hope you thanked him,” Dad mentioned.
“I didn’t know, I’ll ring in the morning, oh I nearly forgot,” I opened my bag and pulled out the crumpled note Nanna gave me, “woo, that's three hundred!”
“Guess you’re buying lunch tomorrow,” Mum suggested.
“Mu-uum!” I moaned.

 
Maddy Bell © 12.01.2018

 

 

“Jules’ll go ballistic,” Mand opined when I recounted my largese as we prepared the cocoa.
“Mum says she’s got an envelope for her from Nanna and I’m not saying what I got,” I mentioned with a withering look.
“I’m hardly gonna tell her am I?”
I sighed deeply as I waited for the milk to heat, “wish I was riding tomorrow.”
“Don’t knock it, you have looked a bit peeky this week.”

We did debate telling her the truth but Mum pushed for a ‘fewer the better’ approach so other than the three of us – and Caro, only George knows the truth of the matter. The cover story – for now, is that the Federation want me to rest before the Worlds, it leaks like Gruyere but that's not the point.

“Yeah,” I agreed sadly – well its not been the greatest couple of days.

 

“Where’re we going?” I enquired as I put my seatbelt on.

Dad and Manda left Dernau hours ago with the Hymer, moping over it isn’t going to change anything so I tried to embrace more Mum / daughter time.

“Luxembourg,” Mum advised as we nosed out of the drive.
“Luxembourg? I thought we were going to Bonn or Düssel.”
“thought you’d appreciate somewhere different, some different stores.”
“Wr okay.”
“You need anything for this camping trip?”
“A bigger basket on the Schauff?”
“Bigger? You could get a house in there.”
“You haven’t seen what I’ve got packed,” I replied with the vestiges of a grin.
“There’s probably some pannier bags in the garage you can use, you need any more clothes or a swimsuit.”
“Like something to swim in?”
“What else?”
“Mu-um.”

 

Its a good couple of hours drive down to the Principality, almost two hundred K and not all on autobahns – we headed up and over the ‘Ring1 to pick up the southbound A1. Well you know what Mum’s driving is like, I was quite thankful to get on the autobahn, at least all the traffic is going the same way! At Trier we picked up the Luxembourg bound motorway and less than thirty minutes later we were looking for parking close to the cathedral.

 

“So where first?” Mum enquired as I straightened myself out.
“Coffee, I need to ready my nerves.”
“Cheeky madam!”
“Just saying.”
With a roll of her eyes she locked the car, “come on then.”

I was having slight wardrobe regret as we headed through the underground parking, none of my three garments, BH, pants and flimsy summer frock, offer any degree of insulation. Its not freezing or anything but I shivered as we navigated to the exit suggesting a need for facilities in my near future. At least I haven’t made the footwear error of the O Center, I’ve got my favourite low heeled sandals on – at my height flats aren’t going to work!

My fears were allayed when we emerged into the big square, the Place Guillame, the sunshine immediately warming my bones but not decreasing the pressure on my bladder.

“Hotel de Ville?” Mum suggested.
“Looks a bit posh.”
“You’re point being?”
To be honest I didn’t have one, “as long as they have toilets.”

 

We were soon installed inside, Mum ordered whilst I attended to needs.

“Did you ring Nanna?”
Bum! “er no.”
“Well don’t you think you ought to?”
“Yes Mum,” I agreed with a sigh before fishing my Handy out, “you got her number?”

 

“Is that Mrs Bond?”
“No, its her daughter, who is this?”
“Oh hi Aunty Kath, its Gaby.”
“How's my favourite niece today?”
“Er fine thanks.”
“Sorry I didn’t recognise your voice, you sound so erm.”
“German?”
“You do have quite an accent,” she agreed, “so what’re you up to today, didn’t your Dad say there was a race?”
“Er yeah, I’m being ‘rested’ though, me and Mum are shopping in Luxembourg.”
“A girls day out eh?”
“Sort of,” I allowed, “is Nanna about?”
“I’ll get her luv, hang on.”
I could hear a muffled call, ‘Mum! Gaby’s on the phone.’

 

“Gabrielle,” short as always, Nanna greeted me.
“Hi Nanna,” I replied more chirpily than I feel.
“To what do I owe this honour?”
“I er wanted to thank you and Gramps for the money last night.”
“Its our pleasure Gabrielle.”
“I feel a bit guilty, its so much when there's all the littlies.”

I sensed a change in Nanna’s tone before she replied.

“Don’t you worry about them Gaby,” she told me in an almost conspirational voice, “they all get plenty, they are always down at Burnham, you and your sister are the ones that have missed out, just spend it wisely eh?”
“I will Nanna, I’m on holiday with my friends next week, it’ll supplement my spending money.”
“On your own?” her tone returned to normal.
“I think there’s ten of us, we’re camping somewhere in the Pfalz.”

I could almost hear her shaking her head.

“Your young man going?”
“No Nanna, its all girls I went to school with.”
“Well be careful, don’t do anything your mother wouldn’t.”
“I won’t,” I told her.
“And Gabrielle, don’t you ever stop being you, go easy on all the piercings, you’re too pretty to spoil yourself, you make me and your Gramps so proud.”
“so what are you doing today?”
I almost said ‘getting a tattoo’ to wind her up, “shopping with Mum.”
“Enjoy yourselves, now get off this phone, I’m sure you don’t want to spend the day talking to me.”
“Wrm.”
“Bye Gabrielle, we’ll see you soon eh?”
“Er yeah, um have a safe trip back to England.”
“Thanks luv, now get on with you.”
“Tschuss Nanna.”
“Er tewse Gaby.”

 

“That sounded like an interesting conversation?” Mum suggested as she poured my coffee, said refreshment having arrived during my call.
“Not really, just told her about the camping.”

Something finally clicked in my blonde head.

“Whats wrong?”
“I just realised what she said.”
“Which was?” Mum cajoled.
“Don’t do anything your mother wouldn’t.”
“For once I agree with your Nanna, that's good advice.”
“But shouldn’t it be ‘don’t do anything i wouldn’t’?”
“She probably thought that’d be a bit restricting for a sixteen year old girl, anyway, drink up, shops to hit.”

 

The caffeine perked me up a bit and we were soon out into the big square, the focus for Luxembourg shoppers and tourists alike.

“Which way?” I asked.
“The big shops are behind the tourist office,” Mum supplied so that's where we headed.

Of course, living – and shopping where we do, i’m used to hearing the different languages of the visitors. Here in Luxembourg though its not just the dominant spoken language that's different but the written too, a mixture of French, German and the mish mash that makes up Luxembourgish. Of course with my language skills its not an issue but its a bit weird seeing and hearing all this so close to home.

As capitals go it’s not a huge city like London or Paris, in fact i’d say its closer to Bonn in size but with all the EU stuff it has attracted a lot of top end stores. Between the more mundane High Street names sit the fancier brands, Swarovski, Prada, Laboutin and many more. Not that my pocket stretches to buying in those places but its nice to look right?

Mum dragged me into another of the hallowed oasis.

“Who can afford this stuff?” I queried checking out the discrete price tag on a handbag.
“You apparently,” Mum replied as she adjusted her glasses on her head.
“Me?”
“That dress you wore at New Year,” she suggested.

You remember that? The short white sleeveless thing with the Swarovski crystals on the bodice and fits where it touches.

“The white one?”
“Behind the counter,” she hinted.

I didn’t see it at first amongst the arty mosaic on the wall but sure enough there was a model wearing my dress. I think it works better on me without all that leg, I sighed, wish I had longer legs. Then I spotted the logo on the wall.

“this is D & G?”
“there are a few clues,” Mum suggested pointing out the same logo on the handbag I had been looking at.

My brain is working overtime today, more tiny pieces dropped into place.

“So that’s why I got that invitation.”
“Could be kiddo,” Mum allowed, “you are going I take it?”
“Suppose so, the girls’d rag me forever if I don’t, you know what they’re like.”
“In that case...”

She caught the eye of one of the ‘bright young’ fashion victims acting as staff in the store.

“Madam?”
“Güten morgen, Deutsche?”
The help replied in German, “of course Madam, how can we help today?”
“My daughter requires a clutch bag, she likes the one your model has with the white dress,” Mum suggested, “we don’t see it on display.”
“Certainly Madam, if you would like to take seats.”

She trotted off as Mum selected a seat.

“Mum,” I hissed, “what are you up to?”
“You don’t want the bag?”
“That’s not the point, it’ll be like hundreds of euros.”
“Let me worry about that, now sit daughter mine.”

 

Maddy Bell © 15.01.2018

 

 

We departed the D & G ‘boutique’, me toting a posh carrier with the aforesaid stylised logo emblazoned on each side.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I mumbled as we headed further along the street.
“No one in their right mind pays the ticket in those places.”
“But that was a right lot of cock and bull.”
“True enough,” Mum agreed, “but its all true,” she pointed out.
“But that was shameless name dropping.”
She stopped walking and turned to me, “sometimes kiddo you have to stretch the truth a little to get what you want, you even do it when you race. Fact, you are going out with the son of Baron von Strechau, fact, we spent New Year with the Taxis, fact, you were a guest at the Habsburg wedding last year. I might’ve given it some extra spin but its expected, stop moaning, we got the bag at a good discount, the help will get her commission and you do an afternoons free advertising for them – its a win win situation.”
“Free advertising?”
“The carrier bag,” she pointed out.

I’d never thought of that, I guess its the same thing for like supermarkets and even like the Thesings bakery.

“Well I’m ready for lunch, where are you taking me?” Mum prompted.

It is a very nice clutch, matches my dress of course, talk about an indulgence, its not like I’m likely to be wearing the dress again anytime soon.
 

We ended up with an outside table at one of the many eateries in the centre.

“Put your bags on the table,” Mum directed as I started to sit down.
“Why?”
“Just watch.”

Whatever, I put my mini rucksack and the D & G carrier on the table and sat myself down.

“Bonjour Madam, Madameselle.”

Flippin ‘eck, that was quick.

“Bonjour, le carte sil vous plait,” Mum replied.
“Oui Madam.”

Look, i’ve been to a fair few restaurants and even when you’ve got a reservation the staff are never that quick. In moments we had menus and a jug of water, Mum ordered a carafe of some wine and less than five minutes after arriving we were surveying the gastronomic possibilities.

“What just happened?” I enquired.
“The power of labels.”
“Eh?”
“What’s on the carrier?”
“D & G,” I supplied.
“You know that, I know that, the Maitre d’ knows that and we all know its a prestige brand right?”
“I guess.”
“The fact you have a D & G bag suggests to the staff that you, we shop there and therefore are well heeled. Which in turn gets us served quickly and attentively, that couple we followed in are only just now being greeted.”
“Maybe I should try it when I’m out with the girls next time.”
“Only works if there's a store nearby,” Mum pointed out.
“Damn.”
“So what’re we eating?”

I looked at the menu again, its not the cheapest place but I guess I am a designer handbag up, not that I’m sure why I needed it. And I do have a fair bit of silly money burning a hole in my purse.

“Whatever you want.”
“Ooo, Filet Mignon!”

We actually both had salad in the end although we topped off the calories with a wedge of Black Forest gateaux each afterwards. It was close on two by the time we returned to the day’s primary activity, shopping.
 

Not having any actual purchasing agenda was sort of liberating, we spent time in stores i’d normally walk straight past. As a result we both made purchases of posher underwear from La Senza®, I bought some fancy chocolates for the girls next week and Mum found Jules a nice dress ring for her forthcoming eighteenth birthday.

“I thought you preferred that little stud in your nose?” Mum suddenly asked.
“I lost the stone, must’ve come unstuck,” I returned suddenly conscious of what I think of as Max’s ring in my nostril.
“We should get you a replacement then,” she suggested.
“I didn’t think you liked it?”
“I’m not the greatest fan of all these holes you girls sport these days, but that's just me and a tiny hole in your nose is better than that thing in Jules’ tongue.”

It’s not that Mum isn’t pierced, she has her ears done – once, I’ve got a couple in each ear and my nose, the extra one at the top of my ear has sort of closed up. Some of the piercings I’ve seen at the gigs just seem a bit, well weird and painful and there was a girl at the festival last week with like loads of tattoos and like these big plug things in her ears, urgh! Jules has got more holes than me in her ears but she usually just wears small hoops in them.

“I can probably get one in Claires® or something.”
“If you’re wearing one its going to be decent quality,” she declared.
“Its only a nose stud.”
“Don’t argue with your Mother.”
“No Mum,” I sighed.
 

Half an hour later we were headed back to the car park and I couldn’t help but keep looking at my nose where a tiny diamond chip had replaced the ring in my nostril.

“Look where you’re going.”
“I am but its distracting, the sun keeps catching it.”
“We could take it back?”
“I’m looking, I’m looking!”
 

“You want to stop at Daun for dinner?” Mum suggested as we headed back into Germany.
“Could do, that salad was alright but I’m getting hungry now.”
“Me too. So you have a good time today?”
“I guess, I still don’t know why you bought me that bag.”
“You want to look nice at the show.”
“I guess, but how’s the clutch fit with that?”
“What does it match?”
“The white dress.”
“Which you’ll wear to the show, you’ve already got shoes and some of your posh Wolford hose, bling in your nose, we’ll sort your hair out, viola!”
“Really?”
“Really. No daughter of mine is going somewhere like that looking less than a million dollars.”
“If you say so, we need to go off here.”
“I know,” we shot across two lanes to make the turn off, at this rate I won’t survive until tonight!
 

It was nearly six thirty by the time we were parked behind the restaurant in Daun, I didn’t recognise the place at first, last time I was here I arrived on two wheels after that scary close pass.

Memory of that ride switched something in my head, “I wonder how they got on today?”
“I’m sure we’ll find out later.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“That's the first time you’ve mentioned bikes today.”
“Is it?”
It wasn’t the first time I’d thought about the others racing today. Oh, the shopping has been a distraction sure enough, but every time I’ve seen a bike its been a reminder of how come I was shopping not racing today.

“It will be alright won’t it Mum?” I asked after we ordered.
“Course it will luv.”
“What will I do if its not, i’ve always raced.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong, the system isn’t infallible, this is just one of those glitches, it’ll be sorted before you know.”
“Before Spain?”
“I can’t guarantee that Gab, you know that.”
“But in theory?” I pushed.
She paused before replying, “I’m not going to lie to you Gab, yes, in theory it could be sorted but it often takes months.”
“Months? So like I’ll miss Canada too?”
“Its possible kiddo.”
“But that's so unfair, I’m the National champion!”
“Lets not get ahead of ourselves eh, hopefully it won’t come to any of this.”

I’d like to say the steak dinner lifted my spirits and I forgot about my personal Elephant but I’d be lying. There was nothing wrong with the food, far from it, it was excellent but it did next to nothing towards lifting my now depressed mood. The remaining drive back across the Eifel to Dernau was done mostly in silence, I didn’t even react to most of Mum’s dodgy driving.

 

“Ooo, someones been splashing out,” Mand opined as she flopped onto the sofa.
“Eh?” I allowed, thankful to be distracted from the terrible game show on RTL.
“Oh my god, your nose!”
I tried peering at my schnozzle without finding anything amiss, “what about my nose?”
“You’ve got a new stud.”
“How’d you know?”
“The other one was like more yellowy?”
“Was it?”
“Yeah, lets see?” she requested leaning over.
“Whatever,” I allowed.
“That’s not from Claires,” she stated.
“Nope, we got it in some fancy jewellers.”
“We?”
“Mum bought it for me,” I told her.
“Classy, so what’s in the D & G bag?”
I passed it over from the side table, “have a look.”

Mand took the bag and after peering inside, reached in and withdrew the carefully wrapped clutch.

“Can I?”
“Be my guest.”

She unwrapped the tissue paper to reveal the glittery white clutch.

“Whoa!”
“You like?”
“This must’ve cost like hundreds, are these real crystal?” she asked fingering the sparkles.
“Swarovski to match my dress,” I allowed.
“So you’re stud is Swarovski too?”
“Ut uh.”
“You mean its...”
“Yup, its an actual diamond.”
“That must’ve cost a bomb.”
“Not really, its only a tiny chip after all, nah it was only sixty euros?”
“Maybe I should get mine done so I can wear a diamond.”
“You’re weird sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?”
“So how did the race go?”
 

Maddy Bell © 15.01.2018

 

 

“See you later!” I called out to anyone who was listening.
“Later kiddo,” Mum’s voice floated back from somewhere inside the house.

I made a quick readjustment of my shorts, I was giving the shorts over hose look another go, I might not have long enough legs to really carry it off but what the heck. I had my Handy out before I got to the bottom of the drive and ringing a moment later.

“Strechau.”
“You coming up to the kiosk?”
“Kiosk? Er right,” Max dopily replied.
“You don’t have to.”
“No, no, i’ll come up, got some chores first, ‘bout one?”
“Cool, laters!”
“Bye Gab.”

I closed the call and found myself almost skipping along towards the bakery.

“Hi Fritzy, hi Frau Holdorf!” I called out to the town busybody.
“Fraulein Bond,” she allowed with a nod whilst Fritzy was spinning like a top at the mention of his name.

 

“You look happier today,” Con greeted when I arrived at Thesing’s.
“Too much like hardwork being miserable, hi Frau T.”
“Morning Gaby, you both ready?”
“Gab?” Con enquired.
“As i’ll ever be.”

We were soon all squeezed into the van along with the days baked goods order for the kiosk and chugging our way up the valley.

“So you all packed Gaby?” Frau Thesing enquired.
“Mostly,” I allowed.
“You girls are all the same.”
“Mu-um,” Con complained.
“Well you still wouldn’t have anything packed if I hadn’t pushed you last night.”

Con gave me a look.

“I bet your mother didn’t need to chase you to get ready Gab?”
Well you know me, but I wasn’t going to admit that I’ve got nothing actually packed, “er no,” well she hasn’t yet.

Why am I at the kiosk today? Well for starters I’m not racing and then of course we need to do a sort of hand over to Con’s mum who’s going to run it while we’re away. I could probably have dipped out but as Dad pointed out, it’ll help stop me dwelling on the other stuff much like yesterdays shopping trip.

 

“You like?” I hinted to Con as she started the till up.
“Eh?”

I sort of offered my schnoz towards her.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?”
“Nose, sparkly?”
She stopped her counting and looked, “nice.”
“Its a diamond, Mum bought it for me yesterday,” gabbled.
“I didn’t think she was keen on it?” Con noted returning to her counting.
“Yeah well she said if I was gonna wear something it ought to be good quality.”
“Well you wouldn’t want your nose going green or something,” Con agreed.

Look we’ve all had cheap stuff like that, I’m not exempt.

“We having coffee?”

 

Things don’t really get going until after twelve on Sundays, hence our later opening, oh we get a few paper collectors stopping off for coffee, the odd dog walker even but even the weekend visitors don’t get to Con’s Kiosk until late morning.

“Con says you do a stock check on Thursday?” Therese suggested as we went into the storeroom.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “then she rings the order through from the bakery Friday morning.”

Of course Mrs T is aware of how we work things but I guess she’s getting it straight in her head.

“Hmm, maybe we should think about getting a landline in so you can do it from here.”
“Wouldn’t that be expensive?”
“It’d save some time and if we get one of the new till systems Tomas has been looking at we can connect you too which will make my life easier doing the accounts.”
“Right,” I’m not exactly sure what she’s on about but at the end of the day its not me paying for it.
“So, show me where everything is.”

 

It was a bit overcast but warm enough that there were plenty of bare arms and legs about, I was itching to lose my tights but my cut offs are a bit too, er short to wear on their own. Oh well, guess I can live with being warm for a few hours. Anyhow by twelve we were all being kept busy enough, five of us was probably a bit excessive, normally Sundays we only have three but I wasn’t complaining.

“When do you want lunch Gabs?” Con asked.
“One?” I suggested.
“Something planned,” Kris hinted.
“Might be,” I allowed.
“I bet someone's coming for lunch,” Nena opined.
“I’ll get mine now then,” my BF told us taking off her apron.

Oh yeah, there’s been a slight change of plan, Nen is travelling with me and Con tomorrow, not sure why the change in plans but it doesn’t make any difference really.

“So you packed Nen?” I asked as the pair of us were left alone.
“Just about, you?”
“I know what I’m taking.”
“You haven’t started yet have you?”
“Well, not as such,” I had to admit.
She rolled her eyes, “its a wonder you ever get anywhere Gab.”

 

My heart had a little flutter at the distinctive sound of Max’s mofa making its way through Altenahr, geez, get a grip girl. I already had our lunch pretty much ready so when the lummox actually arrived I was already removing my apron. The garden was quite full but Max managed to snag the little table in the far corner as it became available.

“Busy,” Max observed as he helped unload our lunch from the tray I’d brought it over on.
I shrugged, “not too bad.”

We finished unloading and I quickly returned the tray to our ‘clean up’ station.

“So you looking forward to the camping?” Max asked as he prepared to eat.
“I guess.”
“But?” he stuffed several Frites into his mouth.
“I wish you were going.”
“Its a girls trip, I don’t think me being there would go down too well,” he suggested.
“Yeah but I’ll miss you.”
“Its only a week Gab,” he pointed out.
“Yeah,” I agreed pushing my chips around the plate.
“So you want to go somewhere when you finish here?”
“Like?”
“We could go up the woods?” he suggested.
“I’ve got to finish packing,” well start actually.
“We can go up on the Mofa?”
“What about Dad?”
“He’s not coming is he?”
“No silly, me on your Mofa?”
“He doesn’t have to find out does he?”

I can’t deny it was very tempting, extended time in the seclusion of the forest with Maxxie but do I want to tempt fate?

“Best not,"i sighed, "come down to ours for tea, we can go up the vineyard after for a bit,” I guess common sense won out.
He shrugged, “’kay.”

 

The rest of the afternoon fairly flew by, we had a big flock of Dutch cyclists come through who kept us busy for a while and there was a continuous stream of other visitors to the kiosk. With many hands the end of day clean up went quickly too so that the Thesings were dropping me off just twenty minutes after we shut for the day.

“See you in the morning Gab,” Con told me.
“Yeah, Dad’ll pick up Nen first then come back down for us.”
“Okay, byeee!”
“Tschussie!” I returned with a wave as Therese set off again.

 

“I’m home!”
“You’re early?” Dad opined.
“A bit, it alright if Max comes to dinner?”
“You’ve already invited him haven’t you?”
“Erm.”
“Just make sure you’re all packed for the morning, I’ve serviced your bike.”
“Who’s coming?” Mand queried arriving in the kitchen.
“Max,” Dad supplied.
“Might’ve guessed, so what’s for dinner?”
Mum arrived from downstairs, “I was going to do quiche with salad.”
“Fine by me,” at least I’m not doing it, “er Max is coming.”
“I heard, you can sort out the taters.”
“Mu-um, I need to pack,” I groaned.
“It won’t take you long, Manda can you do the salad please.”

 

“Just going for a walk,” I told my parents after Max and I had done the washing up.
“Don’t be too long, you’ve still got stuff to do for tomorrow,” Mum told me.
“I’ll have her back by ten,” Max suggested.
“Half nine,” Dad stipulated.

Well it was worth a try.

 

“You haven’t got the ring in,” Max noted as we lay on our favourite patch of grass hidden amongst the vines.
“Don’t you like the diamond?”
“Diamond? Its nice I guess but you can’t play with it like the ring.”
“You only like me for my nose ring,” I accused in jest.
“Well you do have some other appealing features.”
“Such as,” I demanded.
“Lets see,” he leant himself on one elbow to look down at me, “your eyes.”
“just my eyes?”
He stroked the hair from my face, “your lips are quite nice.”
“How nice? Show me.”
“If you insist,” he rolled further over and lowered his face to mine and I braced myself for a further snogfest.

“Fritzy! Come back here you naughty boy, where are you going? Fritzy!”

 

Maddy Bell © 16.01.2018

 

 
“Ring when you get there,” Dad repeated Mum’s earlier instruction.
“Yes Dad.”
“Here, get yourselves something to eat on the way down,” he told me pressing a couple of notes into my hand, “we’ll talk later okay?”
“Thanks Dad.”
“Come on Gab,” Con called over, “we’ll miss the train.”
“Bye Dad, coming!”

I set off pushing the Schauff across to where the others were waiting outside of Koblenz Hauptbahnhof.

 
Of course, we could’ve got the Express down to Remagen and the Rheintal down to Koblenz to pick up the Mainz train. But Remagen station isn’t the easiest with bikes, especially all loaded up, we’d struggle to make the connection just through changing platforms – then the same at Koblenz. So Dad suggested running us to Remagen which then became Koblenz as he was going to Neuweid anyhow.

Adding Nena to the pot wasn’t too bad, the Hymer has acres of locker space so that was that. How we get back is another matter but we’ve time to sort that before Friday.

My city bike isn’t the lightest beast to start with, load it up with a couple of panniers at the back and a full basket up front and its a right behemoth! Oh you can ride it okay but pushing it through a busy railway station – well it nearly got the better of me twice before we got to the platform. Hopefully we can get them on the train without too much incident, the others weren’t having any easier a time.

“Who’s idea was this?” Nen enquired.
“You could’ve come down in the bus with the others,” Con pointed out.
“Train’s coming,” I noted looking up the track.

Its a doubledeck train down the Rhein to Mainz, not that unusual really and at least the doors are at platform height so getting bikes on is fairly easy. The train slowly pulled in at its northern terminus, we spotted the bike carriage and followed it along the platform. It was barely stopped before a flood of travellers started disembarking, by the time we reached the right door the first arriving bikes were being wheeled off.

It had been pretty full and it took several minutes before we were clear to load ourselves. Con led the way on and I followed once she’d negotiated the doorway.

“Whaaa!”

Whump! I landed on my rump, the Schauff following me and pinning me down.

“Gab! You all right?” Con asked in a panic.
“Erm,” I managed, “you’ll have to get my bike, I can’t move.”
“Let me get mine parked,” Nen suggested, “then I can help.”

Well it turned into a right caper, the girls had no idea and I ended up being rescued by a couple of other passengers. One chap managed to heave my steed upright whilst another pulled me back to my feet.

“Er thanks.”
“Are you okay?”
“Think so,” I advised rubbing my sore botty.
“Where are you ladies going?” my rescuer asked.
“We change at Bingen,” Con volunteered.
“I’ll come give you a hand, its a high platform there.”
“Thanks.”

By now our bikes had been stacked and joined by several more, everything from one of those foldy things to a couple of smart looking road bikes. Will I get to race again? Stop thinking like that Bond, its all a mistake.

“I’ll see you later,” the chap told us before heading off to claim a seat.
“Come on,” Nen chivvied, “lets get some seats.”

We headed upstairs where we scored table seats, the train was moving before we’d got settled, we’re really doing this!

 
Bingen is less than an hour away on the train and effectively marks the southern end of the Rhein Gorge. As the train follows the river passengers get a free sightseeing tour of the Gorge, castles, Lorelei, the river traffic – even trains on the opposite bank – there’s a line on either side of the river. Of course we’re regular train users but even so this is something of an adventure and we were just like any other tourists looking out of the window.

I stuffed another mini cracker in my mouth, “So how long have we got at Bingen?”
Con dug in her bag and pulled out our travel documents, “we’re due in at quarter to eleven then depart at five past.”
“Should be enough time to change platforms,” Nen mentioned.
“Don’t need to, we arrive on two and leave on one,” Con advised.
“How long is it to this Durckheim place then?”
“Two and a half hours.”
“Really?” Nen queried.
“What it says here,” Con confirmed.
“We shoulda brought some lunch.”
“Maybe there’s somewhere at Bingen?” Nena suggested.
“We don’t want to go out of the Bahnhof,” Con told us.

 
‘Die nachste halt ist Bingen, the next stop is Bingen am Rhein.’ the tannoy announced. They get a lot of international passengers on this line hence the English repeater of the announcement.

“Thats us,” I stated gathering my bag up.
“Someone's in a rush,” Con suggested.

Downstairs there had been some change of cargo, it took us a couple of minutes to sort ourselves out but we were waiting behind the two chaps with road bikes when we pulled up at Bingen.There was no sign of my earlier saviour until we got to the door when he appeared, quickly lifting each of our bikes onto the platform.

“Thanks again,” I offered.
“Have a good holiday,” he replied as he stepped back aboard moments before the doors closed again.
“Well that was useful,” Con stated.
“No kidding,” I agreed as we wheeled the bikes along the platform.
“Sugar,” Nen exclaimed, “the connections running ten minutes late.”
“You guys wait here, I’ll go get us some food.”
“Drinks too,” Con opined.
“If theres pizza I’ll have Hawaii,” Nena added.
“I’ll see what there is.”

 
I had to go out of the station to find the local equivalent of our kiosk, well not exactly but similar. Well not at all really, as its more of a bakery come minimart. Whatever, I went around collecting snacks and drinks which set me back over twenty euros!

“Come on Gab,” Nena encouraged, meeting me as I appeared on the platform to find the train waiting.
“Where’s Con?”
“Already on with the bikes,” she told me as we hurried along the platform.
“I thought it was running late.”
“Hurry up ladies,” the conductor suggested as we passed him.
“It arrived just after you left, what took so long anyhow?” Nen supplied.
I shook one of the bags, “pizza.”
“Cool!”

We’d no sooner got on board than the door warning beepers sounded and by the time we joined Con we were moving, departing on time.

“Phew, that was close.”
“We thought you were going to miss it,” Con stated.
“Thanks friend.”
“We wouldn’t’ve left you,” Nen told me. “so what’s for lunch?

 
We trundled across the northern Pfalz eating pizza, sandwiches, crisps and drinking pop. Its not the most interesting countryside, the change of passengers at each halt provided better entertainment, not that it was particularly busy. Its not a through train to Bad Durckheim, when we got to Alzey we had to change, trains and platforms, the last leg of the journey was to be on a single carriage railcar.

The last forty kilometres took another hour as there was a long connecting wait at Grünstadt.

“Should be there soon,” I offerred looking out over the featureless countryside.
“I’ll ring Anna, she said she’d meet us at the bahnhof,” Con mentioned.

 
“She said to wait at the front of the station, she’ll be about half an hour.”

Our transport crept into the bahnhof and my heart seemed to take on a more rapid rate in the excitement of the moment. Oh I know that in the big world we haven’t come far but we’ve made the journey alone and there aren’t any adults to supervise us for the next week. Is this how the great explorers felt when they set off on their travels?

We wheeled our steeds out of the station and found a wall to sit on in the shade to wait for our friend and guide.

“Anymore water?” Nen asked as we watched the various buses and odd tram come and go from the forecourt area.
“Nope,” I advised.
“I’ll go fetch some,” Con suggested, getting up.
“There was a machine on the platform,” I volunteered.
“’kay.”

 
Anna arrived with Steffi about forty minutes after our arrival.

“Hi guys!”
“You made it!” Steff added.
“We’re not useless Steff,” Nen mentioned.
“Well we nearly lost Gab,” Con told them with a chuckle.
“Not nice Thesing,” I huffed.
“Come on guys, lets get back to the campsite,” Anna suggested.
“How far is it?” I asked.
“Only about a kilometre.”
“No hills?”
“Flat as a pancake,” Steff told me as we set off.

 
We followed Anna into the Kurpark to avoid the bit of traffic on the narrow roads.

“This is nice,” Con allowed as we rode between carefully tended lawns and flower beds.
“What the heck is that?” I asked as a huge wall thing filled the horizon.
“Thats the Gradierwerk,” Anna supplied.
“Which is?”
“Something to do with making salt I think.”
“Its huge,” Nena stated as we all pulled up to take it in.
“Come on, you can sightsee tomorrow, we’re missing time in the lake.”
“Sounds good to me,” Con sparkled.

 
There was a cycle path that we followed out of the town, which took us back towards Grünstadt but after crossing the sort of bypass we continued on the bypass for a short way before picking up the familiar tepee depiction of a tent on a signpost. It might be flat but each time we stopped I had to scoot along to get going again, it might roll along nicely but getting it moving…

A couple of minutes later we rolled through the gates of the Knaus Camping Bad Durckheim.

“I’ll show you where everything is once we’ve dumped your gear,” Anna advised, “we’re just down here.”

And then there we were.

“Cool eh?” Steff suggested.

Well the Hymer its not, tent it is, one of the newer frame tents, a big central bit with bedrooms off to either side.

“Gab, you and Con are at the left back there, Nen, you’re with me on the right.”

 
Maddy Bell © 16.01.2018

 

 
“Not exactly the Ritz,” Con suggested as we surveyed our lodgings for the next few days.
“Could be worse and its not like we’ll be in here much is it?”
“Guess not, which side?”
“Right,” well at least I won’t have Con clambering over me to go to the loo in the middle of the night.

To be fair its not that bad, quite spacious really, a couple of cheap airbeds were already inflated and in place for us. On Mum’s advice I had a fitted sheet which I pulled over the bouncy bed then I released my sleeping bag – ta da, instant sleep zone! I sat crosslegged on top and found my Handy.

“Dad?”
“Ah, my runaway daughter.”
“I haven’t run away.”
“So you got there okay kiddo? I take it you’re at the campsite?”
“Yes to both, we’ve been here about fifteen minutes.”
“Everything alright?”
Even though he couldn’t see it I shrugged, “so far.”
“So what’re you doing now?”
“Think we’re going to the lake for a bit after we’ve unpacked.”
“Just be safe okay, you’ve already had the lecture so I won’t repeat myself.”
“Yes Dad, look gotta go, ring tomorrow, Tschuss!”
“Bye Gab.”
 
I went out into the central ‘room’ to wait for the others, plonking myself in one of just two camp chairs. I surveyed the rest of our accommodation while I waited, several beer crates, a huge cool box, a two burner stove and a big gas bottle, a washing bowl holding a load of plastic crockery and – well not a lot else to be honest. I guess there’s camping and camping.

“What’re you two up to?”
“Coming,” Nen advised before appearing in a bikini.
“Really?”
“We’re going to the lake right?” she mentioned.
“Whatever, Con, you coming?”
“Right there, shit!”

A moment later my BFF emerged from our cocoon.

“Not you too,” I groaned.
“Some of us don’t already have boyfriends.”
“But like we’ve been here, what, twenty minutes?”
“Your point?” Nena asked.
It’s an unwinnable point of course, “come on then, lets go look at the water.”
 
The lake wasn’t even two minutes walk away from the tent, the girl camp was however at the far end from us so we set off around the water. Scenic idyll? Nah, I reckon it started out as a gravel pit or quarry or something like that, a few spindly trees decorated the sparse grass offering a little shade from the yellow thing in the sky. It took us almost ten minutes to reach the others as we took the longer, shadier route around the back side of the water.

“Heya guys!” Pia greeted.
“Flippin’ hot,” I suggested.
“No lads?” Con pouted.

Not just no lads, the site was strangely quiet.

“Why Connie Thesing, anyone would think you are man hungry,” Anna grinned.
“There are some lads, think they went fishing or something, they’ll be here later I’m sure,” Brid told us as we found spots on the tired turf.
“So how were the trains?” Pia enquired.
 
We hung out, played in the water – I did change into a cossie and generally relaxed.

My stomach growled, “so what do we do about food?”
“We can get pizza from the restaurant,“ Heidi suggested.

Oh yeah, I forgot, Anna’s college friends. Well Heidi comes from down towards Cochem and Donna lives in Koblenz, they seem friendly enough, maybe not Angel material but we’ll see how the week goes!

“I don’t feel like cooking anyhow,” Pia stated.
“Me either,” Anna agreed.
“Well that’s settled then,” Steff put in.
“We should go get cleaned up then before the showers get too busy,” Anna suggested.

The sun was still high in the sky but a check of my timepiece claimed it to be almost seven, seven! Where did the day go? No wonder I’m hungry.

We gathered our stuff and made our way, the shorter way, back to our tent where the reality of nine teenage girls sharing a space no bigger than our lounge at home hit like a whirlwind! For the next half hour or so there was a stream of bodies to and from the ablutions, each returning with wet towels and swim wear which soon decorated a couple of makeshift clothes lines as well as the tents guy lines. It was nearly eight before our gaggle made our way the short distance around to the restaurant.

Of course to call it a restaurant is perhaps being a bit generous, there isn’t table service as such, order and pay at the counter and the menu runs to pizza and a limited range of other fast food. To be fair, most campsite ‘restaurants’ are similar, oh occasionally you get one with higher pretentions but it is after all mainly used by lazy campers. If you want à la carte you go to a proper restaurant but if you’ve got three kids and a low budget the on site facility will offer a quick fix.

Each of us put in five euros which got us four assorted forty centimetre pizzas and a round of soft drinks.

“What’re we doing tomorrow?” Steff asked.
“The lake,” Bridg suggested.
“We’ve done that for two days,” Donna observed.
“We could do the tourist bit,” Pia put in, “isn’t there a castle of some sort?”
“Boring,” Brid complained.
“You don’t have to come,” Nen pointed out.
“How about we go into town and take it from there?” I offered.
“She’s not just a pretty face is she?” Heidi stated.
“i did tell you,” Anna replied.
“Hey, I’m here guys.”
“And we wouldn’t have it any other way,” Con giggled.
“Incoming,” Pia warned as our food started to arrive.
 
I’ve had worse pizza, I’ve had better too, it was certainly not as good as what we get in Maschoß but it was eatable. There wasn’t more than a bit of crust left by the time the locusts had done so it worked on that level but I really, really don’t want to eat fast food all week. Hmm, that's something else for tomorrow.

It was only just starting to get dark when we returned to our accommodation.
“What do we do now?” I queried.
“Now we party,” Donna enthused.

Well I guess that’s what we came for, we soon had music cranked up, bottles of beer opened and well, you know, dancing and stuff. It didn’t last that long, there’s a site curfew at ten, enforced by the site manager so the music had to go. Of course that put quite a dampener on things and I decided to call it a day and headed to my bed leaving heavy conversation on the merits of some singer or other to my drinking buddies.
 
As I lay on my bouncy mattress I realised something, I didn’t ask Dad about the test results earlier. How could I forget about that? Well its too late to ring again now and knowing tonight won’t change things will it?
 
“What are you doing?” Con enquired when she came into our ‘bedroom’.
I waggled my airbed a bit, “trying to let some air out of this thing.”
“What for?”
“You tried sleeping on one of these?”
“Try,” I suggested, “aha, gotcha!”

I eased out the stopper and let what seemed like a lot of air escape.

The problem with air beds, mattresses, whatever, is that everyone pumps them up rigid, or at least fairly hard. Of course they end up like a trampoline then, you bounce all over and usually end up on the floor half way through the night – especially if you weigh less than a sparrow fart like me. The solution is to get enough air in to keep you off the floor but not much more – it works more like a huge single pocket mattress, all the support without the bounce.

It took me a couple of goes to get it where I wanted but there was at least a chance I’d get some reasonable shut eye.

Of course there’s no real privacy in a tent, okay line of sight maybe but you can hear everything, not just in our canvas home but next doors telly, bawling kids a few pitches away, traffic out on the bypass – well you get the idea. So of course I couldn’t get to sleep, I’m used to the almost total silence of my eyrie or at least double glazed hotel rooms. Eventually more localized sounds disappeared and the more background stuff faded enough for me to slip into a light slumber.
 
The other thing with being in a tent is that you get woken up with the birds, in other words almost as soon as the sun peeks over the horizon. I lay there listening to several assorted snores from my tent mates and even at this hour, traffic on the autobahn less than ten kilometres away. Eventually though my bladder got the better of me, I reluctantly exited my sleeping bag, found my fleece, added my flip flops and set off for bathroom nirvana.

“Thought I heard someone get up,” Anna advised between yawns when I got back.
“Needed a wee, what do we do about Frühstuck?”
“Cereal under the table, milk and juice in the cool box.”
“Coffee?”
“There’s instant or the shop opens at seven thirty.”
I looked at my wrist watch, a bit after six, I sighed, “looks like instant.”
 
Over the next hour or so bodies emerged from their slumber points, bodies wearing PJ’s, five, night dress, one, T shirt and pants, one and bra and nickers, two. Isn’t it strange how people will happily parade around in their underwear or bed wear on a campsite in front of total strangers? I mean, you wouldn’t walk around the streets at home in your nightie, would you?

“Here you go,” Steff plonked a big paper cup into my hand, “it might not be Bond quality but its better than that instant.”
I sniffed at the cup, hmm smells okay at least, “cheers, the best you can say about that stuff is that its wet.”
“Yeah, we couldn’t fit the Gaggia in the bus.”
 
Bodies were still eating and getting ready for the day thirty minutes later so I found my Handy and wandered off to one of the lakeside picnic tables.

“Bond.”
“Morning Mum.”
“You’re up early, not homesick?”
“Its half eight,” I pointed out.
“So to what do we owe this call?”
“Erm, I forgot to ask about the test yesterday.”
“Let me get your Dad,” she told me, her tone having become instantly more sober.

That doesn’t sound good.

“Er okay,” I allowed.
It was maybe only thirty seconds later but felt like an hour befort Dad came on the line, “heya kiddo.”
“Heya, so the tests?”
“Not great news kiddo, the B failed too.”

I sat in silence, after everything is this how my cycling career ends?

“Gab, you there, you alright?”
“Uh huh.”
“Did you hear what I said? They’re doing some extra tests but they need a base sample from you so I’ll come down later.”
“Extra tests?”
“The lab is concerned that the sample is showing such high levels, they reckon it would still be in your system.”
“What about the samples from the Nationals?”
“Good point.”
“And Doctor Fischer only did my last check up a few weeks ago,” I enthused, maybe we can prove the samples aren’t mine or something!

 
Maddy Bell © 19.01.2018

 

 

“You coming Bridg?” Con enquired of our beligerent camper.
“Come on Brid, you can sunbath later,” I added.
“Go on then, wouldn’t want to miss the culture.”

And so it was that a bit after nine our flock of teenagers mounted our motley group of steeds and headed towards Bad Dürkheim. It was almost like being back home and heading down to Silverberg Gymnasium, a group of friends chattering about rubbish without a care in the world. The day was promising to be a typical mid August example, hot and sunny, a day to not do too much but a bit intense for sitting out.

We retraced yesterdays route past the water thingy and through the Kurpark into the centre where we found the tourist info office – well its a good place to start right?

“There’s loads of stuff,” Nena opined.
“Some of these are miles away,” Pia pointed out waving a leaflet for the technical museum at Speyer.
“Not that far,” I suggested.
“Far enough,” Con put in, “hey we’re on the Deutsche Weinstraße.”
“And I thought Gabs was the dumb blonde,” Steff stated.
“Hey, dumb rosa-in if you don’t mind!”
“What about this,” Heidi suggested, “Limburg Abbey.”
“Thought that was up near well, Limburg,” Anna mentioned.
“Nope, according to this its a couple of kilometres up the road to Frankenstein.”
“Frankenstein? you’ve got to be kidding?” I put in.
“No, it says its three kilometres up Kaiserlauterer Straße towards Frankenstein,” Heidi confirmed.

Maybe its an English thing, wonder if Shelley knew there was a place called Frankenstein?

“Well we could take a look,” Donna added.
“Three kilometres?” Brid groaned, “its bound to be uphill too.”
“Give over Brid, you used to ride ten each way to school,” Nen pointed out.
“That was different.”
 

It was no contest really, we collected various flyers and one of those free sightseeing maps and after a stop to purchase refreshments, set off on the Frankenstein road. there’s a cycle path so we were at least protected from the traffic, even at our relaxed pace it took us less than twenty minutes to get to the Abbey. Well when I say get to the Abbey, to the entrance in the valley, the Abbey is actually up the hill above the valley.

There was of course more complaining from certain parties but after transferring supplies from baskets to backpacks and of course securing the bikes we set off to hike to the ruins. Our group split into several smaller ones as we each found our own pace and company, I ended up with Anna with Pia and Brid behind us and the rest a little way ahead. It’s not a steep, well very steep path allowing us to chat on the way up.

“So what’s up Gabs?”
“Why should anything be up?”
“Come on Gab, its me, you’re usually the life and soul, last night you were almost party pooper, so spill girlfriend.”

Do I just play dumb, say I was tired or something or do I come clean, ha, how's that for an ironic choice of words?

I checked to see how close the others were, satisfied they were out of earshot I took a deep breath, “look this doesn’t go anywhere, not even Con or Steff, promise?”
“You serious?”
“Very.”
“Okay I promise, so?”
“There’s an issue with my racing, I’ve been suspended.”
“Suspended?” she squealed.
“Shush!” I checked to make sure we were still being ignored, “you know I have to do the drug test thingies?”
“I think you’ve mentioned a few dozen times,” she confirmed.
“Well I tested positive from a race a few weeks ago for, wait for it, too much testosterone.”
“Gab, you’re a girl, you don’t do testosterone.”
“Which is why I’m suspended.”
“So how’d it get in the sample?”
“No idea,” I admitted.
“So what happens now?”
“Dad’s getting more tests done, he’s coming down here later today to get another sample for a base line or something.”
“That makes sense,” my friend agreed, “but in the meantime you can’t race?”
“Nope, if I get done for it it’ll finish my career, Anna, I’m scared.”
“Come here,” she pulled me into a hug and I could feel salty tears start to roll down my cheeks.
“Whats up?” Pia enquired as the back markers caught up to us.
“Bit hormonal,” Anna suggested, “go on, we’ll follow in a few minutes.”
“Okay, see you in a bit then.”
 

“Thanks,” I mumbled as the others continued up the path.
“What are friends for eh?”
“Dunno.”
“So when’s your dad getting here?”
“Not sure, he said he’ll ring when he gets to Bad Dürkheim, he’ll come and find us.”
“Well in that case we’d best get up to this Abbey place for a look eh?”
 

Limburg Abbey is, apart from its hilltop location, not dissimilar to many of the ruins back in England. In Germany there aren’t so many monastic ruins, never having had Henry VIII’s sixteenth century dissolusion so the others were perhaps more interested than serial ruin visitor, Bond. My previous experience with Dad does mean that I could act as guide there being not a great deal in respect of information around the site.

So if you want to know about reardortir’s, undercrofts and cloisters I’m your girl – of course it helps that nearly every monastic site across northern Europe is built to a very similar plan. I’m pretty good at Roman remains too, they are even more predictable. But I digress, we wandered about for a while before finding a spot for an impromptu picnic.

“Hmm, this is nice,” Con sighed.
“Its cooler here than at the site,” Steff suggested.
“No boys though,” Heidi noted.
“Wonder where the ones on the site were last night?” Pia mused.
“They were still there?” I asked.
“Well their tents were,” Brid told us.
“So what’re we doing this afternoon,” Donna enquired.
“There’s Hardenburg,” I proposed.
Brid sighed, “that sounds like a castle.”
“It is,” Anna confirmed waving the flyer I’d been looking at, “’biggest castle ruin in the Palatinate’ apparently.”
“Not more rocks,” Con moaned.
“Oh and its five euro entry.”
“Count me out,” Bridg told us.
“Yeah, one lot of ruins is enough in a day,” Heidi proposed.
“It was just an idea,” I mentioned.
“If you want to go I’ll go with you,” Nena offerred.
Anna shrugged, “I don’t mind.”
“Well you three go play Indiana Jones, we’ll go hit the beach,” Donna countered.
 

We all descended to the valley floor where the sun worshippers headed back to Bad Dürkheim whilst the smaller group of explorers headed the extra kilometre out to the Hardenburg. Perversely at the pay for ‘attraction’ there were more visitors than at the Abbey, we paid our entrance fees and after acquiring ice cream made our way up to the castle itself. I blame Dad for this, this visiting ruins when I could be sunning myself by the lake.
 

Brrrp, brrrp...brrrp, brrrp

“That your Handy Gabs?” Nen suggested.
“Er yeah,” I dug in my bag to retrieve my communication device, “Dad,” I advised the others.
“Dad?”
“Heya kiddo, we’re just coming off the autobahn, where are you?”
“Up at the castle, Hardenburg, its on the Frankenstein road.”
“Frankenstein?”
“Thats what I said,” I chuckled, “I think it goes to Kaiserslautern too?”
“Er okay, stay there and I’ll see you shortly.”
“I’ll go down to the entrance.”
“Okay kiddo.”

I closed the call and re-stowed the phone.

“He here?” Anna enquired.
“Yup.”
“He? who’s he?” Nen asked.
“Mr B,” Anna filled in.
“I’ll go down to meet him, you guys stay up here, I’ll be back soon as.”
“What’s he here for?”
“Tell you later, see you in a bit.”
 

Its a long way up and it takes time to go down too, I arrived at the entrance just in time to see Dad come in.

“Dad!”
“Heya kiddo, improving the mind eh?”
“It was either this or sunbathing.”
“Hard choice, oh sorry, Gab this is Natalie Bruns from the testing lab.”
A pleasant looking woman, maybe in her mid twenties stepped forward and offered her hand, “nice to meet you Gaby.”
“Erm hi,” I allowed, slightly confused.
“Nat will supervise your new sample,” Dad informed me.
“Shall we get started?” Fr. Bruns hinted.
“Where do we do this,” I asked.
“I think maybe they have a disabled toilet at the restaurant,” Natalie proposed.
 

Ten minutes later it was done, samples deposited, sealed and shared.

“You going straight back?” I enquired.
“We’ll get a quick coffee then head off,” Dad supplied.
“Quicker we start the process, quicker we get you cleared eh,” Natalie observed.
“Yeah, oh bum, I forgot, Nen and Anna are waiting for me up the top.”
“Go on then kiddo, enjoy the rest of your time down here.”
I gave him a hug, “i’ll try.”
He kissed the top of my head, “ bye kiddo.”
“Bye Dad, thanks for coming down Natalie.”
“My pleasure Gaby, its nice to get out of the lab for a change.”

I left the restaurant and started the climb back up to where my friends were waiting.
 

“Gab,” Anna called over.
“Ah,” I managed, “Gott that climbs steep.”
“All sorted?” Anna asked.
“Yeah, well I hope so, sorry I was so long.”
“You weren’t that long really,” Nen suggested, “so when do I find out what this is all really about?”
 

Maddy Bell © 19.01.2018

 

 

What could I do? Especially as i’ve already given Anna the bare bones.

“F@$k!” Nena exhorted, “that is, well, harsh.”

Well i’ve never heard her swear before so that in itself suggested she understood the implications.

“Yeah, well hopefully these new tests will prove my innocence.”
“More Eis anyone?” Anna suggested.
If theres one thing that lifts the spirits, its good ice cream.
“Lets finish up here then we can go in the restaurant, my treat,” I proposed.
“Now were talking,” Nen beamed.

 

Its a pity Dad didn’t have time to ‘do’ the castle earlier, he would’ve loved it, all the secret rooms and hidden staircases. I resolved to get him something from the gift shop after our posh ice cream, hey, I can be the thoughtful daughter. We got lost a couple of times so it was nearly three thirty by the time we collapsed in the restaurant.

“P was saying you’ve been singing with a band,” Anna prompted.
Is nothing secret anymore?
“Loosely,” I admitted.
“’s not what Max said,” Nen put in.

Blabbermouth von Strechau!

“So?” Anna pushed between mouthfuls of her ‘Pina Colada’.
“You heard about Ralf trying to drug me?”
“As if you could keep that quiet in Valley,” Anna observed.
“Well against my better judgement I agreed to sing with the band after Stefan, that's the lead singer, caught me singing along.”
“This is the girl who can’t sing,” Nen noted.
“She has got a history of not being able to sing,” Anna agreed with a chuckle.
“Who’s telling this?”
“Soz girl,” Anna allowed, “so you sang with the band that night?”
“Yeah, they do some covers as well as their own stuff, they’re actually pretty good in a sort of punk meets mainline rock kinda way. So anyway,” I paused to shovel one of my strawberries into my hole, “’o ‘ey ad a uver ‘onsut I ‘onn,” I swallowed the fruit, “Jules got me an Max tickets so we stayed with J and Boris.”
“Your sister’s boyfriend yeah?” Anna queried.
“Yeah, so anyhow when we got there Stefan recognised me and I ended up on stage again.”
“Clearly reluctant,” Nen suggested to Anna.
“Very, so that's it?”
“Well...” I started.
“Oh you’ll like this Anna,” Nen enthused.
“Thank you Miss Foghorn,” I huffed.
“Go on Gab,” Anna encouraged again.
“Well Sofe sent us tickets to Moselfest.”
“Sofe?”
“Max’s cousin, Sophia? Where I spent New Year?”
“Okay,” Anna allowed, “we tried for tickets, sold out months before.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “anyhow when we get there BlauHase are on the bill, Stefan see’s us, I sing with the band which scores us back stage passes and access to the Green Room.”
“Tell her who you met,” Nen jollied.
“I hardly met him,” I pointed out.
“Who didn’t you really meet?” Anna asked, her interest clearly now piqued.
“Erm, Francis Rossi, you know from Status Quo? He said I sang well when he walked through the Green Room afterwards.”
“You know, I miss all this stuff,” Anna sighed.
“Yeah, never a dull moment with our Gab’s,” Nen confirmed.

 

We finished our Eis and whilst the others used the facilities I hit the retail opportunity. Of course they had all the usual tourist tat, kids dress up stuff, overpriced bottles of wine, postcards and so on but almost hidden behind that lot I found a proper guide to the Hardenburg as well as a guide to the Burger and Schlosser of the Pfalz region. Neither were very expensive so I bought both tomes before rejoining the others outside at our steeds.

“So back to the camping?” Nena suggested.
“Guess so,” I agreed.
“Come on then,” Anna put in, “we can grab a few rays before dinner.”

We set off back down the valley, into Bad Durkheim, retracing our ‘usual’ route through the Kurpark.

“So what are we eating tonight?” I queried.
“Er not sure,” Anna admitted.
“Not pizza again anyhow,” Nen opined.
“What about one of these places?” I suggested as we passed one of several restaurant bar places by the water filter thing.
Anna shrugged, “can suggest it I guess.”

 

We did a quick change back at the tent and went to find the others. Well it was hardly difficult, there was what appeared to be a fiercely contested beach volleyball game in progress between our lot and I’m guessing the mysterious fishing males of the species.

“Heya guys,” Pia greeted us as we joined the peanut gallery watching the match, “all historied up?”
“For today,” I agreed.
“Gab suggested we eat in town tonight,” Anna mentioned.
“Rain check,” Donna told us, “the lads are doing a barbeque, should be fun.”

Well provided we don’t all end up with food poisoning I’m okay with that.

 

The campsite has a fire pit and barbeque facilities which is where we all drifted once the volleyball tournament was decided. Heidi fetched the boom box and soon we were all sucking on cold-ish beverages while a couple of the lads got the coals going. Ah, this is the life.

The sun was drifting towards the horizon by the time the first lot of food was ready, I took a chance on a bit of fairly charred chicken, at least with that you can see if its cooked quite easily. Over the next couple of hours I sampled cremated würst, a scraggly bit of pork steak and some unnamed fish apparently caught by our hosts. We, that is the girls, had supplied the salad stuff, surprisingly fresh, from the camp shop, guess I’ll get tapped for my share later.

 

“Gaby right?” a tall, dark stranger asked.

Well lets face it its not difficult to be tall compared to me, he’s got brown hair and I don’t know him from Adam other than he’s camped a few metres from girl central.

“That’s me,” I agreed, perhaps slightly emboldened by the couple of beer bottles at my feet.
“Ernst, you want another drink?”
I shrugged, “Sprite® or something diet?”
“Coming up.”

A couple of minutes later I was nursing a can of diet Pepsi® with Ernst beside me. Around us there was a lot of giggling as my girlfriends paired off with the lads, nine of us, seven of them – not that I want to be paired off but it looks like Ernst has other ideas!

“You didn’t come with the others.”
“Had stuff to do at the weekend, work an’ that.”
“Work?”
“Yeah, Con’s parents have a snack bar that we run, you?”
“Nah, college, we’re here for a month.”
“Must be nice,” I opined.
“It can get a bit boring to be honest.”
“Oh I can see that, not doing anything all day, partying all night.”
“Yeah, sounds good, try living it.”

To be honest I couldn’t imagine more than a few hours of inactivity, as a family holidays have always had walks, bike rides, visits to stuff, certainly not day after day at a beach.

“Yeah, I prefer doing stuff.”
“Your friends said you went to the Burg?”
I gave a shrug, “you don’t have to sit by the lake to top up your tan.”
“Like your hair.”
“It was only supposed to be for prom.”
“Well it suits you, makes you stand out from the crowd.”
“If you can find me at all, I’m a right midget."
“I found you."
“Well its not much of a crowd,” I pointed out.

Did I mention he’s quite buff?

“You do sports?” I enquired.

 

At some point, maybe it was as the temperature dropped, I found myself almost snuggled into Ernst’s side and it felt nice. Once he got started on his football exploits the conversation became somewhat one sided, I’ve no interest in kickball but how does that matter? I did find out that he’s eighteen, him and his friends are from the Frankfurt area and he’s doing an engineering course at college.

I’m not sure how things got there but we’d been making out for a bit before my brain engaged gear.

I pulled away and sat up, “I shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve got a boyfriend,” okay, I know I’m always denying it.
“He’s not here is he?”
“No,” I agreed.
“So what's the problem?”

Put like that there isn’t one, its not like me an’ Max have vowed to be exclusive or anything is it? I had a moment of dé ja vu, memories of laying amongst the rocks at the side of Lake Como with Toni last year.

“You got a girlfriend?”
“Celine.”
“Won’t she mind?”
“How’s she gonna know? she’s at one of those summer camp things in Amerika.”
“Cool.”
“So you coming back down here?”

I guess there’s no harm, its not like we’re doing anything more than snoggin’ is it?

 

“You coming to bed Gab?”
“Hmm?” I managed, twisting round and straining to see who it was.
“Its nearly midnight,” Con advised.
“It is?”
“Come on, you can see lover boy again tomorrow.”
I guiltily sprang up and looked at the gently snoring figure I’d been cuddled up to, “we were only kissing.”
“If you say so, come on, its freezing out here.”
I hadn’t noticed the temperature but after Con mentioned it I started to shiver, “gis a hand then."

 

Last night was filled with thoughts of failed drug tests and the repercussions, tonight its a comparative study of the kissing techniques of Max, Toni and Ernst. Admittedly my sample is quite small, maybe a bit more practice is in order? Am I really that sort of girl though, I mean, me and Max are a couple sort of officially, I shouldn’t be kissing random lads I’ve only just met should I? Well its not like Max or, like what was it, oh yeah Celine, will get to find out is it and who’s to say he wouldn’t be doing the same?

I thought on that a moment. No, now I think about it I can’t see Max with anyone else, even dished up on a plate. I had a twinge of guilt at that realisation but come on, what's wrong with a bit of holiday romance, its not like I’m sharing his sleeping bag is it?

 

Maddy Bell © 21.01.2018

 

 

“Guh!”

I extracted the hair from my mouth as I returned to consciousness.

“Wassa time?” the mound beside me asked.
“Early I think,” I allowed before locating a device with a readable readout, “er nearly quarter to seven.”
“’s too early,” Con groaned before turning over.

Well I’m not exactly a morning person either but with sunlight lancing across the canvas above me I’ve no chance of returning to the land of nod. I pulled my fleece on before extracting myself from the sleeping bag and pulling my flops on. It occurred to me that I hadn’t showered last night what with sun bathing, barbeques and making out.

Making out, what was I thinking? I left the bedroom and then spent a couple of minutes trying to find my towel.

“Urgh, its you, thought we’d got unwanted visitors,” Heidi suggested appearing from the other side of the communal area.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you, can you see my towel anywhere?”
“Didn’t leave it with your boyfriend?”

Boyfriend? Max isn’t here.

“You were getting quite cosy,” she mentioned.
Aargh! “we were just talking.”
“With tongues,” she chuckled.

I grabbed my wash bag and huffed out of the tent.

 

Sure enough, there was my towel draped over a guy line, not ours but one of the smaller shelters the lads were using. Bum! I crept over to retrieve it, I so do not want to wake anyone, however once I got closer, the chorus of snoring seemed to preclude that likelihood. A quick snatch and I dashed off directly to the shower block where I quickly took refuge in a cubicle.

Clean and somewhat refreshed it was only after i’d put my hair into a long braid that I noticed the mark on my neck. No, not missed dirt, aargh, its a ‘love bite’, nooo! I scrabbled around in my wash bag in the faint hope there’d be some concealer, why would there be?

My hopes of getting to my makeup bag unseen were dashed when not only Brid but Steff too emerged from the tent. In a panic I slung the now sopping towel around my neck, urgh, gross! I forced a smile onto my face and completed the journey.

“Morning guys.”
“Morning Gab,” Steff offered.
“Someone couldn’t sleep,” Brid suggested.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “once the sun’s up that's my sleep done.”
“Good night last night,” Brid opined discarding a pair of socks she’d been sniffing at.

Yeah, I know and we are supposed to be the fairer sex.

“Er yeah,” I agreed.
“You seemed to be getting on with that tall lad Gabs,” Steff mentioned.
“Ernst?” I shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance, “he’s okay I guess.”
“Looked like you were getting quite cosy,” she teased.
“It did get quite chilly.”
“Whatever.”

 

“What are you up to?” Con enquired.
“Putting some slap on?”

I checked my neck, I think the offending mark is covered okay.

“What for, its gonna be like thirty degrees again.”
With a shrug I replied, “helps protect from the sun.”
“If you say so, I prefer factor thirty.”

Phew, she bought it.

 

Our tent and the campsite in general was coming to life, the sound of kinder, the smell of bacon cooking, a multitude of radios apparently all tuned to different stations, just another day for the hardened campers that we aren’t. Breakfast was consumed, coffee purchased, bodies clothed, there was no urgency, its not like we had anything planned exactly.

“We need more milk,” Donna observed as we sat about in loose committee.
“And butter,” Pia added, “we can get it at the site shop.”
“You seen how much they want for two fifty? Its alright for Brötchen but other stuff...” Steff declared.
“There’s a Penny and stuff in town,” Nen mentioned.
“I thought we were hanging with the boys again,” Bridg stated.
“I don’t mind going,” I offered.
“Anyone else?” Anna asked.
“I guess I can help,” Con allowed.
“We can have a proper look around the town,” I suggested.
“As long as there’s no more ruins.” my BF sighed.
“What’re we doing for dinner tonight?” Heidi queried.
“You were on about going into town Gabs,” Nen mentioned.
“It was only an idea.”
“We could get dressed up and stuff,” Steff enthused.
“Vote?” Anna suggested, “in favour?”

A sea of hands went up.

“Against?”

Only Brid half voted not so it looked like we’d eat better tonight.

“You can check somewhere out for us when you go shopping,” Anna proposed.
“Yeah, I guess, I suppose we should do a list.”
“I’ll sort you some money,” Anna told us.

 

It was gone ten before the shopping expedition departed the campsite, we might not have any adults here but Anna is keeping us in line just like she used to. Apparently it doesn’t bother anyone, it does sort of take the responsibility off the rest of us.

“You okay here Gab?”
“Eh?”
“Its just you don’t seem to want to hang out at the site,” Con explained her thoughts.
“I’m fine, I just don’t do sitting about well, you know that.”
“You’re okay when we go to Remagen pool.”
“Thats just a few hours,” I pointed out as we pulled up at the bypass crossing.
“I guess.”

 

We parked the bikes up in the Kurpark so that we could explore on foot, we’ll do the shopping last thing on the way back to Camping Knaus. Bad Dürkheim isn’t the biggest of places, the Abbey and Castle constitute fifty percent of the tourist attractions! There was a ‘guided’ walk flier at the tourist office so we set off to follow it, missing the side trip out to the ruins of course.

“Well I can’t see it,” Con huffed.
“The map says its here, look, Dürckheimer Riesenfaß,” I told her pointing at our map.
“Well all I can see is a big car park.”
I don’t know why but I slowly turned around, “er Con.”
“I mean, it can’t be that big can it,” my BF droned on.
“Con? Er behind you?”
“What?”
“Its behind you,” I advised without taking my eyes off the Riesenfaß, with a 1,700,000 litre capacity, the biggest wine barrel in Germany. Not that they keep wine in it of course, well not these days at least, it houses a bar and restaurant.
“I guess it is a fair size,” she allowed.
“Prices are reasonable,” I noted checking out the menu board.
“It would be pretty cool, come on lets see if we can get a table.”

 

By the time we’d had a walk up into the vineyards and explored the Saline, that's what they call the purification thing, we were a bit foot sore.

I collapsed onto a chair, “i need cake.”
“Well I need Eis,” Con suggested.
“Or Eis,” I agreed flicking through the menu card.
“Your concealer’s worn off.”
“Eh, i’m having the fruit cup.|”
“Your neck Bond.”
“My neck?”
“Looks like you had a good sucking session last night.”

Neck, last night, sugar!

“Er sort of, well not really, I bruise easily.”
“Give over Gab, I know a hickey when I see one.”

 

“We’ve got a table reserved,” I told Anna as we stowed the shopping in the cool box, milk, butter and well, some chocolate. I couldn’t resist okay.
“Not too posh is it?”
“Nah, bit like the Sebenschuh’s.”
“What time?”
“Sevenish?”
“Best tell the others,” our leader stated.

 

“Why’re we walking?” Bridg whined.
“Don’t want to fall off on the way back,” Con told her.

Heidi tittered behind us.

I think we made quite a sight, not exactly done up to the nines but certainly everyone had nice frocks on, hair looking decent and a coat of makeup – some of us more than others. Rather than the direct route Con and I shepherded our gaggle of youth a longer way around so we’d arrive like the pair of us did earlier. Not that anyone, except Bridg of course, was complaining, it was a pleasant evening, still mid twenties and it felt good to just be here.

“So where is this place?” Nen asked when we got to the car park.
“Just here,” Con deadpanned.
“Where?” Steff queried.
“Think big,” I suggested.
“Er guys,” Anna mentioned, “over here.”
“Really?” Pia enquired.
“We are on the Weinstraße,” I pointed out, “come on.”

And so the Ahr Angels plus two descended on the Riesenfaß, I hope they’re ready for us!

 

“That was flippin’ excellent!” Bridg announced as we wove our way back towards our beds.

High praise indeed.

“You shouldn’t have got on the table Gab,” Pia suggested.
“I took my shoes off.”
“I thought they were gonna kick us out,” Nen told us.
“And lose the free entertainment?” Heidi opined, “you’ve got a right set of lungs on you Gab, you should be in a band or something.”
“She is,” Con announced, “you heard of BlauHase?”
“My brother is into them,” Donna advised, “they just got a new singer right?”

Con and several others pointed at me.

“No?”
“Yup.”
“I’m not really in the band,” I protested.
“You sang at Moselfest,” Pia accused.
“’s right,” Anna agreed, “told me so yourself.”

Yup, we were certainly at least half cut, the wine was cheap and palatable, I’ll be ill later I’m sure but isn’t this what this week of unparented holidaying about?

 

Maddy Bell © 23.01.2018

 

 

Our Bachanalian excesses earnt us some reprimand when we got back to the campsite, a strongly worderd request for us to adjust the volume downwards, put a slight dampener on the mood. Some of our party were keen to keep the party going which is how we ended up sat around one of the lakeside picnic benches.

“Them boys are real lightweights,” Donna moaned, not for the first time since we returned.

There were some mumbles of agreement, we had sort of expected them to be about when we got back, several of our party were disappointed, hoping for a repeat of the previous night. Well okay, I wouldn’t’ve minded a bit of tonsil hockey with Ernst but I got the feeling one or two of our number were hoping to take things to the next level. No, not me, as if that's gonna happen, like ever!

 

Of course, having enjoyed the wares of Bachus the previous evening, I was not alone in being, lets just say not too perky Thursday morning. Someone had at least got me back into the tent which is where I returned to minimal daytime operating level. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with rampant parents, what happens at camp, stays at camp – well I hope so at any rate.

“You getting up Gab?” Anna’s voice enquired from somewhere, maybe above me.
“Too early.”
“Its gone eight you know.”
“It is?” I got out.
“Everyone else is up,” I was advised.
“’kay, there coffee?”

 

A shower, coffee and a meat and cheese Brötchen (there is no way I could face fruit loops with milk this morning), not neccesarily in that order, eventually brought me to a level of functionality enjoyed by the sober.

“You coming Gab?” Steff enquired.
“Coming?”
“We’re gonna catch the train to Ludwigshafen, do the shops.”

I still feel a bit fragile, do I really want to be catching trains and partaking of retail therapy.

“Er think i’ll just chill out here.”

 

And so thirty minutes later I was alone at the tent, the radio my company for the day, might go for a swim later, but relaxing at my pace is the idea.

“Not gone with your friends Gaby?”
“Oh hi Ernst, still a bit fragile after last night, I drank a bit too much, well a lot too much.”
“We heard.”
“Sorry if we woke people, didn’t mean to.”
“Some of us were gonna join you but Jo reckoned it might not be the best idea.”
“He might’ve been right. So what are you guys doing today?”
“Some have gone fishing again.”
“What about you?”
“Dunno, go into town or something maybe.”

My grey matter finally managed cohesive thought.

“Fancy a bike ride?”
“Bike ride?”
“Yeah, not far, maybe down this Weinstraße thing? I need to clear my head after last night.”
“Could do,” he agreed.
“Cool,” I enthused, “give me ten minutes to get ready.”
“Sure.”

 

I changed from shorts and cami to one of my sun dresses and quickly applied a bit of slap. Look its more comfortable on the Schauff and I’m more protected from the sun. I grabbed a couple of bottles of water which went in my basket along with my camera and Handtasche.

“Ready?” Ernst enquired arriving on an elderly Peugeot ‘racer’.
“Just about,” I allowed.
“Best zip your tent up,” he suggested.
“Er, would you mind, I can’t reach the zips.”

Well I could, just but if Ernst does it I can watch his hot bod.

“Sure.”

He put his bike onto its side stand and proceeded to shut the tent up – not that it makes it exactly secure but at least the contents are hidden from direct view. Job done we both mounted up and headed out of the campsite.

“So where to Gab?”

 

The Weinstraße itself is a not very bike friendly two lane road but I recalled seeing a map yesterday in the tourist info for the bike version which takes a more casual route through the farmland and vineyards. I'd spotted a marker board down on the bypass so that seemed to be a good starting point.

It somehow felt right to go south towards Bad Dürkheim, the route took us on a more convoluted route than we’ve been using into the centre then used a shared path to climb out of the town. It wasn’t far before we were directed away from the main road and into the regimented lines of vines.

“Nice bike,” I suggested in an effort to make conversation.
“Not really, used to be my dads, its really ancient.”
“Isn’t retro supposed to be cool?”
“Clothing maybe but bikes?”

He might have a point, when I’ve seen like collectors bikes they’ve been like proper race bikes or those Chopper type things. The Pug next to me was neither, what Dad calls suicide brakes, the rack held on with those screw up hose clip things and the gearshifters mounted on the stem. Yeah, my Pinarello it isn’t but I guess it works, much like my own mount which weighs precisely four times my race bikes weight.

“Which way now,” he asked.

There was a sign post that suggested both forks in the lane were the right way but the left hand had an extra sign.

“What’s a ‘Villa Rustica’?” I enquired of my companion.
He shrugged, “dunno.”
“Guess we’d best find out then,” I suggested.
“After you.”

I kicked off, Ernst close behind.

 

Maybe two minutes later we arrived at a gate, the sign attached declaring the Villa Rustica Wachenheim to be beyond the portal.

“Some sort of Romischer farm,” Ernst advised reading the board at the side, “you wanna look?”
“My Dad’s into this stuff, I can get him some pics.”
Ernst opened the gate and we pushed the bikes inside before parking them up.
“Theres a bunch of Roman stuff back around home.”
“Yeah we’ve got some too,” I opined as we started to investigate the ruins, “whenever we go anywhere Dad takes us somewhere archaeological.”
“He’d be well away by us, the Lim-es is near, lots of forts and stuff and castles in the Taunus.”
“I’m sure he knows about them,” I replied, yeah he knows alright, he’s dragged us around more than a few.

Its not the biggest of places, presented in a style Dad disparagingly calls ‘gentrified’, everything in partial reconstruction such that none of the original construction is actually on view. I took about a dozen pictures whilst Ernst read the information boards aloud, a lot of it more general Roman stuff rather than site specific.

“You want a drink?” I offered as we sat on a bench.
“Sure,” he agreed.
“There’s a couple of bottles in my basket.”
“Guess I’ll fetch them then,” he sighed getting back up.

What are you doing Gaby Bond? You’ve been flirting with him all morning, you’ve got a boyfriend at home, you don’t need another one to complicate matters. On the other hand, he is a good kisser.

“Here you go.”
“Er thanks.”

 

We didn’t sit too long, a couple with an enthusiastic Spaniel arrived and our quiet haven was no longer. The trail didn’t keep us entirely in the vineyards, we dipped through a couple of pretty little villages on the Weinstraße before we found ourselves dropping into Neustadt an der Weinstraße.

“We can get some lunch here before heading back,” Ernst suggested.
“I guess.”
“Bound to be a Maccy or something at the bahnhof.”

Last of the great romantics, I reckon he’s read the same ‘how to’ book that Max has.

 

Its a bigger place than Bad Dürkheim, certainly busier with an actual through railway line. I found myself sat on a bench looking out over the railway lines eating a Chicken Royale Menu.

“What’s that over there?”
“Where?”
“By the big shed on the far side.”
“Looks like a Dampflok, wonder what its doing there.“
“We can have a look when we finish this if you want.”
“If you like,” he agreed.

 

Which is how I found myself twenty minutes later negotiating the steep stairway down to the Pfalzbahn Museum. I’ve been to a few railway museums and ‘heritage’ railways and the DGEG is an amalgam of the two. The decision to go into the museum was largely Ernst’s, not that I minded, I guess he is doing engineering so this is right up his alley.

Its not the biggest of places but the exhibits excited my companion and even I could see they were interesting. Ernst ooh-ed and ah-ed at a VW bus made to run on rails, a cutaway steam train, even one with like an open cab bit from like eighteen fifty something, I’m guessing by its name, Der Pfalz, it was built to run here. By the time we’d explored old carriages, photographed a few interesting bits and bobs and sampled some locally brewed Stern beer it was after three.

 

“Guess we should start back,” I mentioned.
“You all right riding all that way?”
Ah, bless him.
“Its only, what, fifteen kilometres,” I pointed out, “I ride more than that all the time.
“Er, I don’t, I use my mofa.”

So its not me he’s concerned about, oh well.

“We can ride slowly.”
“Or we could use the train, I’ll pay,” he suggested.
What the heck, “go on then.”

 

We were waiting for the train to start its journey north when my Handy chirped with an incoming call.

“Gab?”
“Oh wotcha Con, how was Ludwigshafen?”
“We’re still here, you at the tent?”
“Er no, we rode down to Neustadt.”
“We?”
“Me and Ernst.”
“Ernst eh?”
“So when are you guys back?” I asked to change the subject.
“Maybe eight, there’s some problem on the bahn, they’re putting on buses.”
“Guess I’ll get something to eat before then.”
“Yeah, we’ll eat on the way.”
“Take care, tschussie.”
“Tschuss!”

 

“Problem?” Ernst queried.
“The others are gonna be late back, looks like I’m feeding myself tonight.”
“We could eat together?”
“What about your friends?”
“They’ll be having pizza or something at the site.”
“Won’t you be missed?”
“Doubt it, so what do you reckon?”

 

Maddy Bell © 25.01.2018

 

 

“What about that barrel place?” Ernst put forward as we departed the bahnhof back in Bad Dürkheim.

My mind shot back to last night, I don’t think they’d be too keen in having me back.

“Er maybe not, we went there last night.”
“There’s a couple of places around the Kurpark?” Ernst suggested.
“Up by the Saline?”
“Oh yeah, there’s that place in the corner.”
“Sorted then,” I grinned.
“Bit early to eat yet.”
“We should’ve ridden back,” I chuckled.
“Or we could just sit in the park.”
“I could do park sitting,” I allowed.
 

“I’ve enjoyed it today,” I told the owner of the legs I was currently laid against.
“Yeah, that museum was quite a find.”

Boys!

I shuffled myself into a slightly more comfortable position, the ground is hard baked and this dress doesn’t offer much, read zero, in terms of padding. Ernst was sat against a tree with me leaning against his knees, if he wants lip action he’ll have to move. Me? Well it would be nice but I can wait until we’ve eaten, in fact it would be very nice.

“What’re you doing?”
“Playing with your hair, it makes you look really cute.”
“Er right.” that flippin’ c word.
“I mean it, some of the girls at college have dyed hair but they look like they have dyed hair, really harsh and solid, with yours, it looks like it’s your natural colour.”
“I guess that's a compliment?”
“Of course, I like it.”
“I go home tomorrow, I’ve er got stuff to do.”
“We’d best not waste tonight then,” he leant forward and kissed me on the head.
“Hmm,” I allowed wheedling myself back between his knees.

It didn’t take long to go from a slightly awkward upside down kiss to a more convenient and comfortable face to face session of tonsil hockey, when he turned his attention to my neck I pulled back.

“Not the neck.”
“How about down here?” he suggested running a finger over my breasts.
“Er maybe later.”
“That a promise?”

Is it? Do I want Ernst to get comfortable with my bits?

“We’ll see, how about getting that food first?”
“Whatever the lady wishes.”
“Give over!” I admonished.
“I don’t want to.”
“Well I do want to eat.”
“And such a tiny thing.”
I started to get up, “come on Romeo.”
 

“Looks a bit pricey,” my would be beau mentioned.

Well I had to agree, the tables with their, cloths and silverware did give that impression.

“There’s a menu further along,” I noted wheeling the Schauff further along the path.
“We could eat back at the camping.”

Not if I can help it.

“Prices don’t look too bad,” I advised after a quick gander at the board, “there any tables?”

Well there’s a hedge around this bit of the place and I can’t see over.

“Er yeah, a couple in the garden.”
“Come on then,” I enthused, parking my steed and locking the wheel lock. I was at the gate armed with my valuables before he’d even got his Peugeot parked.
 

“Guess you pay more to sit over there,” Ernst suggested.

Apparently where we were now seated was part of the same place we’d looked at with the table cloths and stuff, Fronmühle seems to encompass quite an area of gardens and dining rooms almost adjacent to the Saline’s huge bulk.

I looked behind me at the posh area, “yeah I guess, this is fine though.”

Okay so its like folding chairs and tables, but with wooden seats and tops, the gravel under foot is clearly raked regularly, the table cards are fresh and there’s a pot of Geraniums on each table too. Not the Ritz but nice enough.

A waitress came over, “Abend, you would like drinks?
“You want wine to drink?” Ernst asked me.

Last night flashed up again, Gott knows how much grape juice I consumed, we consumed, certainly more than a couple of glasses.

“A beer?”
“Cool, er two large beers please.”
“You want food?”
“We haven’t decided yet,” I advised.
“Okay,” she allowed before departing.

We returned to the menu’s, most of the usual suspects were on offer, Schnitzel, Putten Hawaii, spaghetti and so on. I fancied something different, at least not pork or chicken.

“Well i’m gonna have the Rump steak.”
“Thats fifteen euros.”
“I got some money from my Opa,” I told him.
“Well i’m gonna have the tagliatelli.”
“If you want steak I’ll pay,” I offerred.

I could tell he was tempted but before he could reply the waitress returned with two tall glasses of beer.

“You wish to order food?”
“Can we get two Rump steaks,” I requested.
“Gab!,” Ernst hissed.
“How would you like them?”
“Medium for me, Ernst?”
“The same,” he sighed in surrender.
“So two Rump steak medium, danke.”

Ernst waited for our server to leave before speaking again.

“What did you go and do that for?”
“Think of it as a treat, you can pay for the drinks after,” I told him.
“Urgh! Women! Celine does this to me all the time!”
I smiled sweetly at him, “I like her already.”
 

Obviously food takes time to cook but it didn’t seem to be long before the waitress arrived with our meal.

“You gonna manage all that?” Ernst enquired as I surveyed not one but two plates of food sat before me.
“I’ll give it a whirl,” I wryly replied.

It might’ve been off-putting but the smaller plate was salad, not exactly filling whilst the larger had the steak hidden under a pile of fried onions along with a mound of crinkle cut chips. Yup, full on chips and no sign of any of the sauces that so often arrive on your plate and dominate the meat. Oh there was a little side salad on the plate but nothing to detract from the steak and chips.

I speared a piece of fried potato, “now that's what I call a chip!”
 

We took our time eating, well at fifteen euros a pop you don’t want to rush it do you? I worked my way carefully through the meat, savouring each mouthful but eventually I sat back, stuffed, a couple of chips and some fried onion left to decorate the stylish earthenware plate. Yup it was good but it got the better of me, of course Ernst had cleared his plates and claimed my last couple of chips.

“Waste not eh.”
“Be my guest, I’m stuffed.”
“No dessert?”
“Not for me, maybe coffee.”
 

“Thanks,” Ernst offered as we walked back towards the campsite pushing the bikes.
“I couldn’t sit there and watch you suffer the pasta,” I joked.
“You didn’t have to pay for everything.”
“It was easiest and anyway, you bought lunch and paid for the train.”
“Well I still owe you a drink or two.”

To be honest, the big beer with dinner already had me a bit squiffy and after last night, well I’m not in a hurry to repeat this morning. Now a bit of snogging, I’d be up for that.
 

“You guys want beer?” one of Ernst’s friends enquired.
“Oh yeah!” Ernst agreed.
“You got any cola?” I asked from behind my kissing partner.
“See what I can find.”
“Cheers Mikey.”

The tent flap dropped back and after opening his drink, Ernst lay back onto the sleeping bag. Oh you missed a bit didn’t you. Well we got back to the camp ground and had just settled down by the lake when it started to rain, not hard but enough to chase us under cover, the cover being Ernst’s little trekking tent. His mates were congregated in and around their biggest tent drinking, they'd done no more than acknowledge our arrival when we came back.

“This is nice,” I opined.
“Eh?”
“Laid here, the rain pattering on the tent.”
I felt him shrug, “I guess.”

I snuggled closer to him, feeling, I dunno, somehow comfortable and secure.

“So you want to like ‘cuddle’?”
“Cuddle?”
“Well something like that.”
“Like the sound of that, need to get more comfortable mind.”
“I can help with that.”

Which is how Mikey found me sat astride his mate in just pants and bra undoing his shirt.

“Er, sorry guys, cola?”
“Cheers bud, stick it by the door.”
“’kay, you want the door zipping?”
“There is a draft,” I mentioned.
 

“The others’ll be back by now,” I noted after taking a swig from the bottle of pop Mikey had delivered, the lads voices still a hum a few metres away.
“And?”
“They’ll wonder where I am.”
“Send a text or something.”
“Can’t, my Handy’s back in our tent.”
“Don’t worry about it, come here, I want another ‘cuddle’."
 

“Well she can’t be far away, her bag’s here,” Steff observed.
“Probably kissing with that lad somewhere,” Bridg suggested.
“We are talking Gab here,” Con mentioned.
“I’m sure she’s okay,” P offered.
“Come on Con, she’s a big girl now,” Steff stated.
“I guess,” Connie allowed.
 

Maddy Bell © 26.01.2018

 

 

Snrrkkk…..Pwhrrrrrrrrr. Snrrkkk…..Pwhrrrrrrrrr.

Something in my grey matter closed a connection and I jerked into sudden comsciousness.

Snrrkkk…..Pwhrrrrrrrrr. Snrrkkk…..Pwhrrrrrrrrr.

It took a moment more for my synapses to register the grating noise somewhere close by.

Snrrkkk…..Pwhrrrrrrrrr. Snrrkkk…..Pwhrrrrrrrrr.

Snoring, that's alright, hang on, that's not Con. So if its not Connie? I got my eyes open and pushed myself into a more upright position, this isn’t our bedroom.Then it came back to me, steak and chips, beer, snoggin’ which means, shitza! The mound beside me repeated its sawing.

Snrrkkk…..Pwhrrrrrrrrr. Snrrkkk…..Pwhrrrrrrrrr.

Ernst. I gave a shiver before realising that a BH and panties do not keep you warm once you are exposed from the shared warmth and cover of a sleeping bag. Bum, bum, bum, I found my dress in the gloom and just about managed to crawl into it, well a bit warmer. I squinted at my wrist watch, two o’clock is that? Guess I’d best make my self scarce.

Somehow, the fact I’d just woken up next to a lad I barely know, in a state of undress, didn’t faze me like waking next to Max in Bonn. Maybe because Max was a shock, because I remember actually getting a bit warm and sweaty with Ernst, I knew what was going on. And maybe because my bed partner fell asleep before me.

 

Outside of the tiny tent I stood up and surveyed my surroundings, the moon was doing a good job of lighting things, all round being silent – well apart from the sawing of Ernst behind me and assorted other snorts and sawing from other mobile bed spaces. I slipped my sandals back on and crept over to the dark bulk of the girls tent where I did my best to gain quiet entry. I stripped out of dress and footwear again before crawling into the space I’m sharing with Con.

I’d actually got into my sleeping bag before the lack of sawing alerted me to Con being at least semi awake.

“That you Gab?”
“Uh huh.”
“Time is it?”
“Just gone two,” I whispered back.
“Where you bin?”
“In the morning,” I suggested.
“Hmmm, nite.”
“Nite,” I returned before snuggling down into my bed.

Great, I suppose I’m gonna get the Spanish Inquisition in the morning now.

 

Despite my disturbed nights sleep I was still awoke with the birds and having donned my PJ’s, managed to escape to the showers without crossing paths with any of my friends. The hot water was a delight, I luxuriated in its caress, relaxing as any kinks disappeared. I might’ve deflected another love bite on the neck but the livid bruising of another coloured my left breast – damn! Well I guess its easier to hide than the neck.

 

“Morning!” I greeted the assorted zombies when I returned to girl central.
“Not so loud,” Steff requested.
“Er soz, so, good night?”
“Not bad, where were you?”
“About,” I hedged, “I’ll do a coffee run shall I?”
“We’ll get it out of you Gaby Bond.”

No doubt about that.

 

“You expect us to believe that?” Pia proposed.
“Its the truth,” I whined.
“Maybe some of it,” Con suggested.
“Honest, I fell asleep and woke up with the cold, which is when I came back here.”
“Whatever,” Bridg allowed, “so when do you guys set off?”

Yeah, it hardly seems we’ve been here any time at all and its time to go back to the Ahrtal. Maybe its just as well, things with Ernst, well its a short plank and I’m not sure I could or want to avoid walking it. Not sure what that says about me – or my relationship with Max, if indeed we have a relationship beyond snogging.

“We’re supposed to get the train at two thirty,” Con advised.
“We can get a couple of hours by the lake first,” Nen proposed.

I thought about the brand on my chest, think the bikini’s out!

 

By the time we’d had breakfast and the three of us had the bulk of our gear packed it was well after nine, our co campers were already doing the lake thing.

“What’re you thinking?” Con asked as we walked along the lakeside for that last ‘beach’ session.
“Nothing.”
“Oh come on Gab, you’re so transparent,” Nen told me.
“It’ll be the tall, dark stranger,” Con giggled.
“His name’s Ernst.”
“Oooo,” Nen teased, “it has a name.”
“Poor Max got competition then?” my BF queried.
“Course not,” I snapped back, “I was just thinking that we hadn’t said good bye to the lads.”
“Or one lad in particular,” Nen proposed.
“No!”
“She doth protesteth too much,” Con mangled some of the Shakespeare Herr Viessner had us reading last year.

Yeah, the whole lot of ‘em had disappeared while we were getting breakfast – probably fishing again. I did get Ernst’s Handy number yesterday, maybe I’ll send an SMS later.

“Earth to Gaby?”
“Eh?”
“You were with the fairies again,” a bemused Con snickered.

 

We hit the campsite restaurant for hotdogs as the sun reached its zenith, our traveling trio then changing and completing our packing. I suppose we could’ve travelled in beach wear but lets face it, even stupid here knows that wouldn’t be a) comfortable or b) sensible. It was just after one when the three of us completed our goodbyes and set of for the Bahnhof.

 

Con sighed, “back to work tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” I agreed watching the vineyards of the Pfalz slip past the Zug’s windows.
“Thought you’d be racing or something Gab?” Nen suggested.

Oh yeah, the elephant.

“Not this week, I’ll do a couple of hours then come in, can’t have you guys doing everything.”
“’bout time you got time off from racing,” Nen opined.

‘I don’t want time off!’ I inwardly screamed.

They say no news is good news, but you can take that either way. Dad was upbeat but not really saying much when I spoke to him earlier to confirm our collection from Koblenz. Yes they were doing the tests, no they haven’t said anything, there’s still time before Spain – I think he was trying to stop me worrying but how can I?

“I like racing.”
“As much as kissing?” Nen asked.
“Got you there Bond,” Con crowed.
“They’re different things,” I noted in appeal.
Nen snickered, “i guess you don’t have to field test bike riding though.”
“So how did ‘Ernst’ score then Gabs?” Con pushed.
“He didn’t ‘score’ anything.”
“That bad eh?” Nen giggled.
“No, I mean it wasn’t like that.”
“The neck just appeared?” Con offered.
“Er course not.”

I can’t win can I?

 

“What I want to know,” Con started as we waited for our connection at Bingen, “is how come the only one of us with a regular boyfriend is the only one who scored at Dürkheim?”
“I didn’t ‘score’ as you put it.”
“You spent all day yesterday together,” Nena pointed out.
‘And half the night,’ Con mumbled.
“It made sense, his mates went fishing and you lot went shopping.”
“You coulda come.”
“I still don’t know how you do it Gab,” Con sighed.
“Do what?”
“Get the boys.”
“I do not ‘get’ them.”
“Well they certainly ‘get’ you,” Nen chimed.
“Urghh!”

 

“Not a word,” I hissed to my companions having spotted not just Dad but Max waiting outside the Bahnhof.
“What’s it worth?” Nen requested.
“Not walking home from here?”

They both made almost syncronised mouth zipping motions before falling about in hysterics. Anyone want two slightly used ex friends?

 

“Good trip?” Max asked slinging one arm around me, the other taking control of the Schauff.
“Missed you,” I suggested looking up at the familiar features.

I’m sure there was some sniggering behind me.

“So you resisted the lure of all the boys at the camping?”
“As if!”
“I thought that's why people go?”
“It might be why some people go,” I stated looking at my friends who were failing to look innocent.
“Come on you lot,” Dad chivvied, “I don’t want a ticket!”

 

“Pizza?” Dad enquired as Max lifted me down from the Hymer, having dropped the others off we finally reached Bond Acres a bit after seven thirty.
“Er sure,” I agreed.
“Max? I know what Gaby wants.”

Okay so I’m predictable.

“Anything thanks Herr Bond.”
“He’ll have anything with meat on Dad,” I stated.
“Won’t be long then, get the kettle on eh?”
“Yes Dad.”

 

“So why were Con and Nena acting all weird?” Max queried as he watched me loading the washing machine.
“They always act weird.”
“Okay, weird-er.”
I guess I ought to get in first, “there were some boys, from somewhere near Frankfurt, we had a barbeque with them and you know, volleyball and stuff at the lake.”
“So there was kissing and stuff eh?”
“Guess so, I just did the drinking and eating bit.”

I am so not telling him about Ernst, about last night.

He kissed my head, “I’ll go start the tea.”

 

Urgh! Why are you such a, a gentleman Max von Strechau? You know something went on don’t you, but you won’t say anything will you, won’t make a fuss. My mind back peddled to last night, to getting hot and sticky swapping spit with Ernst, do I want to do that with Max? Take it beyond the touchy feely stuff? Oh I don’t know, life’s so flippin’ complicated these days!

 

Maddy Bell © 29.01.2018

 

 

“Come on Gab, anyone’d think you’ve been slacking on holiday,” Mand chided.

To be fair I was wallowing a bit as we toiled out of Neunahr towards Königsfeld.

“Go on, i’ll catch you up.”
“Oh no you don’t Gaby Bond, I’m not being your carrot and in any case your dad said piano today.”

Damn, she’ll want to talk all the way round. I grabbed my bidon and took a quick draft before returning my concentration to the job in hand.

“So,” de Vreen started as I drew level, “good kisser?”
“Eh?”
“Oh come on Gab, that was most definitely a love bite on your fun bag.”

How the heck did she see that.

“Don’t know what you mean,” I know, my protestations of innocence never work.
“Come on Gab, been there, done that, so spill already.”

Urgh!

“Okay, okay,” I sighed, “we didn’t do anything, just snogged a bit.”
“Or a lot,” Mand suggested with a crinkle of her brows.

And so I started on a somewhat edited version of my holiday ‘romance’, clearly I left out certain semi naked elements, its not that she’s a big gossip but something as juicy as that would almost certainly leak.

 

We weren’t doing a long session, only about sixty kilometres steady, a couple of hours, a typical pre race leg stretch except of course I’m not riding the Jungere series event tomorrow. Dad however was insistent that I keep up the training despite my suspension, I guess I get that but it still seems like wasted effort. As I’m going up to the kiosk, when we got back I rushed straight up to my room to shower and change.

 

“Any chance of a lift?” I enquired poking my head into the office fifteen minutes later.
“Hmm? I suppose so, I need to talk to you privately anyhow,” Dad told me, “five minutes okay?”
“Er right, I’ll grab a narna.”

I’d finished my banana before Dad came out to where I was waiting by the camper.

“Come on then kiddo, got everything?”

I rechecked my Handtasche, keys, wallet, Handy, lippy – that's where those earrings went, yup, looks like everything.

“Yup,” I confirmed following him up into our behemoth.

Dad got us out onto the Lech road before addressing me.

“I had a call while you were out.”
“From?”
“Natalie, from the testing lab?”
“Oh?”
“Well they are pretty sure we can clear you.”
“I thought the B sample was positive?”
“It was, which is why we came down to get the baseline sample from you.”
“And that clears me?”
“They think so.”
“Only think?”
“Okay, they’re pretty certain.”
“So I can race tomorrow?” I interrupted.
“Whoa, slow down girl, its not quite that simple.”
“It was when they suspended me,” I pointed out.
“Well unfortunately its not so easy getting it back,” he told me.
“So what happens now then?” I asked doing my best to hide my disappointment.
“The Federation are organising a hearing, hopefully sometime this week, if things play out as the Lab people expect you should have your licence in time for Spain.”
“Its cutting things a bit fine,” I noted.
“I know but lets not try crossing bridges before we get there eh?”
“I s’pose so,” I agreed.

 

“You look like you lost a Mark and found a Pfennig,” Con told me as I donned my apron.
“Just some cycling stuff,” I mentioned.
“Well stop moping and get cooking.”
“Why me?”
“Because I hate it, Kris hasn’t a diploma and you’re good at it.”

I rolled my eyes and took the slice from her hand.

 

We were quite busy which kept me from dwelling on what Dad said too much – of course I couldn’t help thinking about it in between times and during toilet breaks. Its only a week before we go to Spain, a lot has got to happen for me to make the journey and there’s no guarantee it will. Not only that but being Saturday there was no visit from Max either, I almost wish Dad hadn’t said anything.

 

“You coming tomorrow?” Dad asked over dinner.
I pushed the peas around my plate, “dunno.”

To be honest I wasn’t sure I could cope with being around the others, the excuse for me not riding is supposedly ‘womens’ troubles, Mand for one doesn’t believe that.

“I could do with extra hands for the feed,” he hinted.
“I really ought to help at the Kabin as I’m gonna be away for another week.”
“Well its up to you,” Pater told me without pressing the matter further.

Am I just dodging invisible bullets again? Last year it was about who I am, is this year going to be marked by this secrecy over this drugs thing? I don’t want it to but if I go to the race I’ll feel compelled to fess up and without a verdict I’m not sure where that’d put me with my friends and team mates, I’m not sure I want to find out either.

 

I knocked on Mand’s bedroom door, “Mand, can I come in?”
“Course, wassup?”
I went in and pulled the door closed behind me, “what’re you up to?”
“Maths revision.”
“I thought you’d finished school?”
“So did I but I failed a couple of my GCSE’s and your dad ‘suggested’ I resit them as a sort of prerequisite to staying here.”
“I suppose its a good idea to have some qualifications,” I noted, “ so what apart from maths are you doing?”
“History and chemistry.”
“Never did chemistry and German history isn’t much use to you for that so I can’t help much.”
“You can give me some pointers on German language.”
“Didn’t think you did German?”
“I didn’t but while I’m going back for the other stuff it seemed like a good idea to get a bit more proficient.”
“You speak it pretty well now.”
“I get by, but sometimes when you and the girls are gabbing away I get a bit lost.”
“Why don’t you say something?”
“Well its sort of embarrassing, I’d be interrupting every other sentence.”
“So you going back as sixth form like Jules did then?”
“Well sort of, a lot of my classes will be with the Y12’s, I think there’s only about three of us going back.”
“Yeah I think that happened with some of Jules classes, I guess its not long until I start college too.”
“There’s a few more weeks of freedom to go, so what did you want?”
“Want?”
“Oh come on Gab, you didn’t come in to talk about my academic exploits, so what gives?”

What indeed. I sat myself on the end of Mand’s bed before starting.

“Did you read that bit in Radsport about Lance?”
“Something about him supposedly using EPO? Sounds like bunk to me.”
“What if it was true though?”
“Don’t be daft, he must get tested all the time, they’d’ve caught him straight away.”
“You’d think.”
“This isn’t about Lance is it? You got a positive result?”
“How’d you know?”
“Well I didn’t think you were being rested, then there was all the cloak and dagger stuff last week oh and you’ve been walking round like the condemmed. I’m guessing its not EPO and that you’re innocent?”
“Course I’m innocent, they reckon I’ve been taking Testosterone.”
“Really? wouldn’t you be growing a beard and talking with a deep voice? That's just silly.”
“Do you think anyone else might’ve sussed the suspension?”
“Doubt it, they don’t live with you for starters. So what’s the crack?”

And so I started my tale of woe.

 

“So this extra test proves your innocent?”
“Looks that way from what Dad said.”
“Thats good right? You can do Spain.”
“It should be, we’ve got to wait for the Federation to organise the hearing and then hope they accept the labs findings, whatever they are.”
“So there’s still a chance you could get sanctioned?”
“I guess, I’d lose my titles for a start.”
“At the very least,” Mand agreed.
“I should let you get back to your maths.”
“Thanks Gab.”
“What for?”
“Putting me in the frame, its been a bit awkward being the only one in the house not knowing, I mean I knew something was up and your rents kept clamming up when I was around.”
“We shoulda told you straight off.”
“I can understand your dad’s thinking, don’t worry I won’t say anything to anyone else.”
“Thanks, you want cocoa?”
“I could be tempted, I’ll be down shortly okay.”

 

I felt better for having told Mand, troubles shared and all that. The fact that she hadn’t for one second thought I was guilty certainly boosted my confidence. I’m not sure where our friendship would’ve gone if she did consider that I could be doping, but it would be difficult but I guess not impossible, to hide it.

Its ironic really that anyone could think I could be doping, BC are very strict and that whole mindset has been drummed into me by not just my parents and the Federation but pretty much everyone I know in cycling. Oh I'm not so naive as to believe no one dopes but I’d like to think the vast majority of my fellow competitors are clean. I guess there will always be that tiny percentage who think they can get away with something that’ll give them an edge.

 

“Have a good race Mand,” I called after her departing back.
“Will do, laters!”

I know Dad was a bit miffed that I’ve opted to stay here today but whilst I’ve told Mand about my suspension I really don’t want to tell anyone else. Oh I know I could just not but I’d feel compelled, someone would want chapter and verse on why I’m not riding and I’m not exactly a good liar. So safest for my reputation if I don’t put myself in that situation, nope keep away and avoid the possibility.

The Hymer chugged off down the lane and I shuffled back up to my eyrie to get ready for a day at the kiosk.

 

Maddy Bell © 02.02.2018

 

 
I stared out at the rain, its not let up all morning which hasn’t exactly been good for business.

“Could do without this,” Con suggested.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “at this rate we’ll have to eat your dad’s Currywürst pies ourselves.”
“What was he thinking.”
“Well I suppose its not a bad idea,” I allowed.

Indeed Herr Thesing, although sceptical at the outset, has now embraced the idea of pies with both hands, this weeks variety came as a bit of a curve ball mind. Steak with peppercorn sauce was a bit intense but chicken and asparagus wasn’t bad and the Labskaus was surprisingly eatable. They’ve actually gained a bit of a following both here and through the bakery, maybe I should introduce him to some sweet delicacies like Bakewell tarts?

“Don’t encourage him too much Gab,” she sighed.

Yesterday, Sunday, was much busier and drier, it felt like half the country were out and queuing for Pommes at one point. First there was the scooter club, then a flock of trekkers descended, a bunch of roadies stopped for coffee and later on some sort of old timer car run stopped too. Today has been the total antithesis.

“Max coming today?” Nen asked.
“Not if he’s got any sense,” Con put in.
“Hey!” I complained.
“I meant with the weather,” she hurriedly added.
“The horses still need feeding an that,” I pointed out.
“I guess,” she agreed.

Lingring, lingring… Lingring, lingring!

I wasn’t the only one jumping out of their skin. Therese hadn’t wasted time over getting a phone installed, it was installed on Friday and some guy is supposed to come during the week to set up the till stuff.

“Well answer it then,” I suggested.

Lingring, lingring… Lingring, lingring!

“Er Connie’s Kabin? Oh hi mum….hardly a soul….no….not yet….yeah okay, see you later, bye.”
“So?” I enquired as Con replaced the handset.
“Just checking to see if the till guy had been.”
“Well that killed like two minutes,” Nen noted.

 

It was barely five minutes later that my Handy chirped.

“Bond, oh hi Dad….what now?….i guess, hang on,” I turned to Con, “I need to go to Frankfurt, that alright?”
“I guess,” she agreed.
“yeah, that's okay,” I told Pater, “er okay….twenty minutes, fine, tschuss.”
“Frankfurt?” Nena probed.
“Yeah, the cycling Federation, sorry guys, its like mega important that I go.”
“This to do with you not racing yesterday?” Con suggested.
“Yeah sort of,” I agreed.
“What’re you doing for lunch?” Nen asked.
“Dunno,” I admitted.
“Go change,” Con ordered.

 

“Heya Babes,” Max offered when he picked up my call.
“Babes?”
“Erm, so whats up, I was just about to leave.”
“I’ve got to go to the Federation with Dad so I won’t be here.”
“Won’t be where?”
“Here, the kiosk, you can still get lunch I guess but I won’t be there, I mean here.”
“I think I followed that, you okay Gab?”
“Not really,” I admitted.
“You want some moral support?”

I gave it a moments thought, it would be nice, to have a hand to hold but at the same time I really shouldn’t get distracted.

“Nah, I’ll be okay, look have to go, talk later.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, “good luck Liebchen.

 

“Here you go,” Nen plonked a bag into my hand.
“What's this?”
“Lunch,” Con told me, “can’t have you starving can we?”
“Thanks guys, there’s Dad, look thanks and all that, have to go.”
“Ring us later,” Con requested.
“Will do, tschuss.”

 

I ducked out and sprinted across to the waiting camper and clambered aboard.

“Alright?” Dad asked.
“I guess, wasn’t expecting it to be today,” I mentioned doing up my seatbelt.
“Well Frank did say they were keen to get it sorted out one way or the other, what's in the bag?”
“Lunch apparently,” I supplied opening it up, “surprise pie and chips?”
“One of Tomas’s?”
“Uh huh,” I agreed.
“We can stop at the Mosel services, you need to change anyhow, we’ll kill two birds.”
“Change? What into?”
“I grabbed you some stuff, its on the sofa.”
“Er right,” I allowed.

That doesn’t sound good, I mean really, Dad picking out my clothes?

It might not be obvious but the quickest way from Altenahr to the autobahn is to actually head towards Bonn then go south, barely ten minutes even in the Hymer otherwise its best bit of an hour out through Adenau and you aren’t even on the right motorway!

“So is Natalie coming?”
“We’re meeting her there with our lawyer.”
“Lawyer, since when do we have a lawyer?”
“Well its actually the firm that the team uses, the Boss was insistent that your legally represented.”
“Er okay, so what happens at this hearing then?”
“Not sure kiddo, I’ve never been to one before.”

Of course he hasn’t, what a dumb question.

 

“Well its interesting,” Dad allowed wiping Currysoß from his chin.
“Don’t get it on your shirt.”
“Get us a cloth luv.”
“Yes Dad,” I sighed, “you want coffee?”
“I’ll get some from the services, get yourself changed,” he instructed taking the cloth from me.
“Okay,” guess its time to see what clowns outfit he’s found for me to wear.

 

Okay, I take it all back, Dad’s actually picked out an alright outfit, even down to hose and shoes. Well okay not undies but that would’ve been too weird. By the time he got back with the coffee I was doing a less is less job of makeup, well Dad didn’t bring my makeup bag and I don’t usually have much in my handbag so its just a bit of eyeliner, massy and lippy. Well it sort of all works, the heels are maybe a bit much but I reckon I look quite smart.

“Everything alright?” Dad asked plonking the drinks on the table.
“Pretty good, so just when did you learn about women's fashion?”
“You don’t have a wife and three daughters and not pick up something.”
“Three daughters?”
“Well we seem have pretty much adopted Amanda,” he observed.
“Er I guess.”
“Well come on, we can drink on the go, we have to be at the venue for three and its gone one now.”

 

“Dave,” Natalie greeted, “hello again Gaby, you look very nice.”
“Erm thanks, so what happens inside?”
“Perhaps I’d best answer that,” a tall, smartly dressed woman suggested, “Judit Kelsterman, I’ll be representing you at the hearing. Nice to meet you Gaby.”
“Er and you, so um how does this work then?”

 

A few minutes later we were installed in the ‘courtroom’ well really just a meeting room with a big table, defendant, that's me, on one side, accusers, aka the Federation on the other. After the introductions it was down to business.

“So Gabrielle Bond, the Federation charges that on June 5th 2006 a sample you gave to anti doping officials tested positive for…..” Herr Obermayer started things off with the charge sheet.

I sort of tuned out the proceedings, concentrating on remaining calm and not too anxious.

“I assume Fraulein Kelsterman that the B sample returned negative?” Frank Obermayer suggestive.
“On the contrary,” she started, “it confirmed the findings of the Federations lab.”
“So we are here to negotiate sanctions against your client?”
“Far from it Herr Obermayer, our laboratory were somewhat concerned about the high levels of Testosterone shown and with my clients consent and assistance ran some further tests with a ‘clean’ sample to act as a baseline.”

She passed the ‘jury’ as well as me and Dad copies of Natalie’s test results.

“The first column is the B sample, the second the control or shall we call it C sample?”
“Thats fine, continue please,” Frank as Federation spokesman agreed.
“I’d like to pass over to Fraulein Bruns of Sportlab who can explain the findings for you.”

I’ll skip all of Natalie’s lengthy and in depth explanations, even I could see by the figures that there was something deeply awry with the original sample. The coup de gras as they say was at the bottom, the failed sample was type B but me, well I’m boring O. Yup the failed sample wasn’t mine!

 

“Thank you Fraulein Bruns,” Judit picked up after Natalie dropped that bombshell, “we therefore move that given the failed sample cannot possibly belong to my client that all charges and sanctions against her be dropped with immediate effect.”

The Federation ‘bench’ exchanged a few mumbled words before a slightly flustered Frank replied.

“I suggest we take a thirty minute recess, if you’d please wait here I’ll have coffee sent in.”
“Thank you,” my legal team allowed.

 

“So whats going on now?” I asked, a little perplexed that my innocence hadn’t immediately been confirmed by my accusers.
“They’ll be consulting their own legal team,” Judit told us, “we could claim against the Federation for defamation and so on.”
“We could?”
“You’ve been falsely accused, they’ve failed to ensure due diligence with the testing, there are quite wide implications here. However I would in this instance advise against doing so, it hasn’t been done with intent and it could delay your return to competition, not only that but it will bring it into the public domain.”
“So that's it?” Dad queried.
“Well I suggest we see what they offer, they’ll be keen to keep it quiet too, as it is they’ll have to launch an investigation and re-examine other results, put in safeguards etc.”
“What are they likely to offer?” I asked, little € signs in my eyes.
“Well I’m expecting expenses and token compensation.”
“You’re the expert Judit,” Dad told her.

 

Maddy Bell © 03.02.2018

 

 
“Can I interest anyone in dinner?” Dad offered as Team Bond exited Federation headquarters.
“Thanks for the offer Dave but I’ll have to pass,” Judit told us, “plane to catch.”
“Well thanks for everything in there.”
“Its what I’m paid for, good luck in Spain eh Gaby?”
“Er thanks, well for everything like,” I offered vaguely waving the envelope containing my reinstated licence.
“Well I must shoot, nice to meet you Natalie, nice work there.”

And with that she was gone.

“What about you Nat? No plane to catch?”
“Not for me, I’d love to join you, anywhere in mind?”

 

After consulting the girl on the Federations reception desk we ended up in a bar restaurant a couple of streets away, I was regretting Dad’s choice of footwear by the time we got there.

“So you have a good time down in the Pfalz?” Natalie asked as we waited for our drinks.
“It was pretty good, well apart from having this hanging.”
“At least you escaped this weather eh?”
“Yeah,” we might be a couple of hours from home but the wet’s down here too, not hard but wet enough.
“Good job with that big tent,” Dad mentioned.
“Helmut was going to take it down, oh sugar!”
“What kiddo?”
“Cheer, I need to ring Han, back in a mo.”

 

I grabbed my bag and dashed out to the lavs.

Come on, come on answer, “Han?”
“Oh hi Gab, whats up?”
“Look sorry about this, I won’t make it tonight, I’m in Frankfurt.”
“Sounds exciting?” she hinted.
“Stuff with the cycling Federation.”
“They work late.”
“Oh we’re done, just getting some dinner before we head back, I’ll see you Friday?”
“Yeah, don’t worry Gab, we’ll no doubt be light a few with the holidays anyhow, safe drive back.”
“Cheers, nite.”
“Nite Gab.”

 

“Sorted?” Dad enquired.
“Yeah, I’ll see her Friday.”
“Your Dad was just telling me about your other sidelines,” Nat mentioned.

I gave him a look.

“The cheerleading,” he filled in.
“Helps stop me getting bike bound, more fun than going to the gym.”
“Sounds like it, while I think about it I was wondering if you’d mind being a guinea pig?”
“For?”
“Well my boss has this idea that if we monitor sports peoples metrics regularly it’ll be much easier to spot discrepancies with testing.”
“Sounds interesting,” Dad opined, “so what are you suggesting?”
“Well initially full bloods then bi monthly urine, we should be able to spot trends with that.”
“Gab?” Dad queried.
“So like personal doping control?”
“Not exactly,” Natalie replied, “we’ll be looking for Haemocrit levels, iron and so on, things that could affect the controls.”
“Like natural levels of stuff?”
“Got it in one.”
“Okay, count me in,” I agreed.
“Could we do it for the whole team?” Dad queried.
“We might have to talk money, we’ve not got a lot of funding allocated.”
“If we got the funding sorted?”
“If theres money on the table, yep, the more the merrier.”
“I’ll talk to George tomorrow.”

 

It was just after nine when we got home, Mand was watching some rubbish on the idiot box.

“Hi guys.”
“What’re you eating?” I asked kicking my towering heels off.
“Custard.”
“Ooh, gimme,” I requested making a grab for the bowl.
“Geroff, get your own! So how’d it go?”
I pulled the envelope containing my race permit from my Handtasche, “one clean, shiny licence!”
“So what happened?”

Of course I then had to relate all of the days events from Dad’s wardrobe raid to Natalies ‘health passport’ project.

“You might’ve thought the Federations testers would’ve suspected something.”
“They test blind,” Dad interjected, “only the Federation know who’s samples are which.”
“Or not,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, or not,” he agreed.

We talked until after eleven when my yawn set everyone off and we headed for our beds. I never did get that custard.

 

“So we’ll pick you and Mand up on the way through,” Dad informed me as I ratchetted my shoes up.
“’kay, where’re we going?”
“Wait and see, something a bit different though.”
“Sounds ominous.”
“Just think of it as race specific training.”

Race specific, I had a little self hug, I’ve got my licence back, I’ve got my licence back, Gaby will go to the Vuelta la Catalunya!

“You listening?”
“Er sorry.”
“I said, make sure your bottles are full.”
“Er yeah, right.”

 

I clattered down to the garage, checked my bike had air in the tyres, re-adjusted my rucky then quickly mounted and scooted out into the fresh but dry Eifel day outside. Quickly I was into my stride, tapping out a steady thirty KPH, riding pretty much on autopilot as I sang the lyrics to Queen’s Bicycle Race in my head. Its like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders, well I guess it has, I cheerfully exchanged greetings with all and sundry along the road and fairly danced up Tunnelstraße and into Altenahr.

A couple of minutes dodging early shoppers through the town and I was at the kiosk. Kris was actually waiting for me so once I got the door open she started the morning chores whilst I quickly got changed into more appropriate togs than a jersey and bibshorts.

“Someones happy this morning.”
“Eh?”
“You’re singing?”
“Er soz.”
“Don’t let me stop you, so what's got you so chirpy?”
I checked the oil level in the fryer, then switched it on, “looking forward to next week.”
“Your race thing in Spain?”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Alright for some,” she sighed.
“Its not exactly a holiday.”
“You won’t be racing all day will you?”
“No but there's a lot of travelling and we need to rest quite a bit.”
“Sounds like a cue for a bit of sun bathing to me,” my helper suggested.
“Hmm, might fit some in I guess but like we’re not on the coast – well not much its mostly up in the Pyrenees.”
“It’d do me.”

 

Just then Herr Thesing arrived with our baked goods for the day effectively ending the conversation as by the time he’d left our first customers were waiting and the till guy turned up. Of course it was never going to be a straightforward swap and connect, what with computers ever is? By the time Con arrived we were using a plastic pot as a cash box and the tech guy was muttering to himself as we did our best to work around him.

“You look happier today,” Con suggested.
“That's what I said,” Kris put in, “she was even singing earlier.”
“Singing? You hate singing Gab.”
“Do not,” I replied, “its being dropped in it I’m not keen on.”
“So I guess whatever it was in Frankfurt went well?”
“You could say that.”
“So we gonna find out why you’ve been mostly miserable for a fortnight?”
Well maybe not the full story, “I was sort of accused of breaking the rules but it was actually all a big muck up by the Federation.”
“And it was all cleared up yesterday?”
“Yeah, when they were shown the truth they dropped the charge so I’m free to race in Spain next week.”
“They were stopping you racing?” Con suggested.
“Yep,” I agreed.
“Now the singing makes more sense,” Kris stated.

 

“So where were you yesterday?” Max asked as he cut into his currywürst pie.
“Had to go to the Federation’s HQ for a meeting.”
“Bit sudden?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “only found out a bit before I rang you.”
“So whatever it was is sorted out?” he probed.
I grabbed a few of his Pommes, “yeah, there was a mix up with some testing samples but its sorted now.”
He raised an eyebrow, “mix up?”
“They thought I’d taken some banned stuff, but we found out it wasn’t my sample so once that was sorted I was cleared.”
“So someone else took something then?”
“Maybe, we left that for the Federation to figure out.”
“This one of yours?” he queried pointing at the bright red orange contents.
“Herr T’s.”
“Maybe not one of his best,” Max suggested.
“Didn’t think it was bad, well the one I had yesterday was okay.”
“Maybe its just me then, so you want to go up the vineyards later?”
“Want and can could be different things, we’re doing a ‘special’ training session this afternoon, don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“Er, your dad, he’s conned, I mean asked me to help out.”
“He has? What for?”
“Pacing or something? I’m meeting you guys at Kempenich.”
“On the Mofa?” I mocked
“Yeah,” he defended.
“But I can ride faster than that thing on my own.”
“If he’s buying the petrol, I’m not asking questions.”

Well I guess you can’t say fairer than that.

 

Maddy Bell © 04.02.2018

 

 

It hardly seemed like five minutes after Max’s departure before de Vreen rolled up to the kiosk.

“You early or am I running late?”
“What do you think?”
“Sugar! How long have I got?” I requested in something of a panic.
“She’s winding you up Gab,” Con chuckled, “you’ve got like forty minutes yet.”
“Gotcha,” Mand smirked.
“Why you!”
“Any chance of a coffee?”

 

I checked the time on my computer for about fifth time, “they’re late.”
“Traffic?” Mand suggested, “so your dad mentioned a special session earlier, any idea what?”
“Well he’s roped Max and his Mofa in, he’s meeting us down the road, so I’m guessing some sort of motor pacing.”
“What for?”
“Search me, sure he’s got his reasons.”
“Guess we’ll find out soon enough, you didn’t half get a tan last week.”
“Its not like I was laid out like Pia and Bridg.”
“Guess you get a head start for next week, a whole week in Spain.”
“It’ll probably rain,” I suggested.
“That’d be my luck,” Mand allowed with a sigh.
“Ah, here they come, time for action.”

We pushed off and by the time the rest of the BC / Apollinaris squad caught up to us we were clipped in and over the level crossing.

 

“Who’s the new girl Mand?” Gret called out.
“Dunno, she was at the side of the road and just tagged on,” Mand called back.

Eh? I checked behind, I never saw anyone.

“Dur,” Tal mentioned, “they’re talking about you Bond.”
“Ha, ha,” I supplied without humour.
“Where ya been Bond?” Cav enquired.
“Holiday?” I suggested.
"Alright for some,” Daz opined.
“So what’s the crack?” Mand asked as we turned towards Adenau.
“Up through the forest like, we’re to meet him and the others on some lay-by at some Kemp place,” Josh supplied.
“Kempenich,” I mentioned.
“Aye that's it Bond.”

Well I do have a little inside information.

“Did he say what this special training is then?”
“Caro was getting the moped ready earlier,” Geth volunteered.
“Wondered why she didn’t come in the bus,” Cav noted.

 

We rode piano up to Ahrbrück where we turned towards Kesseling and the road that’ll eventually take us over the top to Kempenich. Its a fairly steady ride for the most part, well there’s a steeper bit up near Marts place in Staffel and another up to Watzel. Josh seemed to be in charge, keeping us at a steady eighteen – twenty kph, talking speed when climbing and it seemed like no time at all getting to the summit, twenty five k’s from the kiosk.

The descent down through Cassel, well we had a bit of a chase down into the parched fields and scrubby woodland. When we reached the main road we reassembled, well we had to wait to cross the road anyhow. Dad and his crew were waiting for us less than half a K further on, Max and Caro on their motorised two wheelers, Dad with the Hymer.

 

“Everything okay?”

We mumbled agreement, well we were mostly drinking or eating.

“Right,” Dad went on, “next week in Spain some of the roads are, to quote the road book, ‘unmade surface’.”
“Farm tracks Mr Bond?” Josh suggested.
“Possibly Josh but probably, hopefully, better than that but certainly not tarmac.”
“Like in Bavaria Dad?”
“Without the puddles with any luck,” Dad grinned back.
“Bavaria?” Sal queried.
“Nationals,” Gret supplied.
“So this afternoon we’re going to try and give you some experience so you don’t go into it cold,” Dad told us, “I know a couple of you have done some cross and mountain biking, you’ll have a head start but I want everyone to feel confident to tackle it when you hit it in Spain next week. I’ll split you into two groups, those with some experience will go with myself and Max here, the rest of you will be with Caro and Mike, clear?”
“Er where’re we going?” Cav queried.
“Sorry, there’re some dirt roads we’ll use up on the hill there, its not a lot so we’ll be up and down a bit. Right, lets get moving.”

 

It was a short, mostly uphill ride on tarmac up to the hill top that Dad had pointed out from below. The no through road and no car signs as we turned off the tarmac were ominous.

“Okay, no heroics,” Dad instructed as we started picking along the broken surface, “steady pace, concentrate on where you’re going, try to avoid any big stones and potholes.”

Its something of a balancing act, riding on unmade surfaces, a good pace smooth's things out, just like cobbles, but too much speed and you lose some of the control to avoid stuff. Oh I know on mountain bikes you can just charge over stuff but we’re on road bikes with skinny tyres with no tread. Our group consists of me, Gret, Tali, Cav, Sal and Geth, all of us having experience on these sort of surfaces, Sal used to do mountain biking, the rest of us have experience from races and of course I’ve done cross.

Max, with Dad riding pillion followed us down the lane as we all adapted to the surface, it was a bit dodgy through the trees but once out into fields again we were soon getting along quite well. Sal was the surprise, her MTB skills seeing her catching air and taking lines the rest of us were less sure of. The ruins of Ohlbruck Castle appeared ahead of us, the bright white tower standing out vividly against the blue sky, glad we’re not riding up to that.

“Yee-ha!” Sal shouted out as she did a high speed bunny hop back onto the tarmac above Hain, someones enjoying themselves.

We pulled up when we got to the village and let the Mofa catch up to us.

“Intense!” Sal enthused.
“My arms are killing,” Geth moaned.
“Don’t get too giddy,” Dad opined, “that was only a couple of kilometres, next week will be longer and there's uphill too. So we’ll do a loop around the village and go back up to the top.”

Urgh, there had to be catch.

 

And so the pattern was set, we climbed back up to the top, somewhat slower than the downward trip, passing the others on the way, more carefully picking their way down. Keeping a good line is easier going up but my thighs were burning by the time we reached the top again. This time we went down the road, I recognised where we were a bit more when we crossed the Vulkan Express rail lines on the way down.

Then it was up again, there’s no let up from Oberzissen up to Hain, Sal and Gret dropped off the pace and Cav was puffing a bit by the time we reached the dirt again. At the top I was more than grateful to stop and recover a bit while we waited for the stragglers and the Mofa to arrive. They weren’t that far behind to be fair, arriving in a cloud of dust.

“Good riding people,” Dad advised, “one more round and we’re done.”
“Down the road?” I queried.
“No, on the dirt kiddo, I need to have a word with Caro so we’ll stay here, be careful going down, we don’t want to have the paramedics out eh?”

The six of us set off once the late comers were recovered, after negotiating the woodland I stepped up the pace only to have Sal come whooping past – mad! There was no stopping at the bottom this time, we went straight into a circuit of the village – Sal was well out of sight by now. The rest of us were fairly close however and we hit the dirt again at a good lick.

The uphill was the breaker of course, I pushed the pace and only Geth could hold my wheel. Ahead, Sal returned to view but whilst she’s not the worlds greatest climber, even I could see her technique on the loose surface was good and catching her was a slow drawn out affair. In the end she ran out of juice as we reached the trees allowing me and my shadow to quickly close the remaining gap.

Geth made a break for freedom as we caught her, maybe without it she’d have got on but the sudden increase in pace killed that. I chased after the Welshman who in turn blew not much further up the track, I clicked down a gear and made my own move. A bit of wheelspin put me back in the saddle, the rattle of bouncing chains slowly faded behind and I allowed myself a quick squirt from my bidon.

Getting the bottle out is one thing, putting it back when the bike’s bouncing about and you need two hands on the bars, well a potential recipe for disaster – worth remembering. I emerged at the top awkwardly gripping the bottle and my lever which made pulling the brake on a bit interesting! The beginners class were all slumped over their bikes when I got to the top, goodness knows where they’ve been as I’ve not seen them since that first pass.

 

“Catch me!” I shouted in a bit of a panic, dropping the bottle and making a grab for the brake lever.

Dad and Max both made a grab for me as I almost toppled over as I skidded to a halt. Pater got the drop although I was at almost ninety degress to vertical before I stopped moving.

“Nice catch man!” Josh stated as Max helped Dad pull me back to the vertical.
“Close call Gab,” Mand offered.
“Cheers Dad,” I allowed as I unclipped.

Geth puffed up, pausing briefly to pick up my dropped bidon.

“Here you go.”
”Cheers, where’s Sal?”
“She was right behind me.”

 

In the end she arrived with the remainder of our group having had a bottle episode of her own.

“Okay people, good session,” Dad started, “we don’t want to dwell on this aspect too much but hopefully you’re all a bit more confident and you won’t be surprised next week. Now I’m sure you’re all ready for your dinners, I know I am so lets get back down to the bus and we’re done.”

 

“Urgh,” I complained having peeled my jersey off. A dirty tide mark of sweat and dust surrounded my bra, I can only imagine where else the dirt has gotten itself.
“Here,” Mand threw a towel across to me, “my hair’s full of it too.”
“Ditto.”
“You two ready?” Dad enquired joining us in the camper having helped load the others bikes into the BC van.
“Yeah, where’s Max?”
“He set straight off back, it took him over an hour to get here, I did offer to take him back but he said something about seeing Martin?”
“Preiser, Bern’s boyfriend,” I supplied, guess the vineyards out then.

The Hymer chuckled into life and after a toot of the horn we were on our way back to the Ahrtal.

 

“Get yourselves showered,” Dad instructed when we arrived back at Bond Acres, “I’ll ring Helmut, we’ll go eat at the Stube okay?”
“Sounds good to me,” Mand agreed.
“As long as I’m not cooking I’m in,” I added.
“Thats settled then, so scoot.”

 

That dust really had got to places best not mentioned in polite company, there was a drift of sandy deposits on the floor of the shower when I was done. I had to wash my hair twice to get rid of the grit – goodness knows how much is stuck on the bikes. Not my problem, I have a man who does!

 

Maddy Bell © 06.02.2018

 

 
Whilst I – and no doubt Manda, would’ve been maybe more comfortable in shorts and a cami Dad would’ve had a hairy fit so I made pretty much the bare minimum of effort allowable. Well I suppose its not the most uncomfortable thing to be wearing, maybe I should’ve picked a frock without a fitted bodice.

“Stop fiddling Gab,” Mand told me as we got in the camper for the short journey along to Rech.
“The top’s rubbing a bit,” I mouthed at her.

She just rolled her eyes and I considered whether I could borrow a BH from P – maybe going ‘au naturel’ up top wasn’t the cleverest decision of the day.
 
“Hi Dave, girls,” Helmut greeted when we walked into his fairly busy Stube, “over by the windows okay?”
“Fine,” Dad replied, “thanks for squeezing us in.”
“What are friends for eh, the usual to drink?”
“Make it a Weisen please Helmut, girls?”
“Sprite®?” I requested.
“Large?”
“Please,” I confirmed.
“Same for me,” Mand added.
“Okay,” my sometime boss mentioned, “table twelve then, I’ll send some menus over.”
“Cheers,” Dad er, cheerfully replied.
 
A couple of minutes later P arrived with Dad’s wheat beer, our lemonade and the menus.

“Herr Bond,” she placed the beer in front of Dad before distributing the other glasses, “bit different to last week eh Gab?”

I tried to communicate that she should desist with a look but Fraulein Sebenschuh was taking no notice.

“Er yeah, they only had 7Up®,” I replied hoping she’d get the message.
“Like you were bothered,” she went on with a smirk.
“Er, I think your dad’s looking for you,” I hinted.
“Oh right, I’ll be back for your order.”
 
Dad and Mand were both looking at me expectantly.

“Something you want to tell us?” Dad hinted.
Look, i’ve said it before, i’m not exactly a great liar, I can manage to not tell the full truth but an out and out lie, not happening.

“So I had a few drinks,” I admitted, “I was on holiday.”
“Define few,” Mand pursued.
“Well you know, a beer with dinner, we all did.”

The look on Dad’s face suggested that he didn’t quite buy that, its a good job he doesn’t, and will never know about the Riesenfaß!

“So er what’s everyone eating,” I went on in an attempt to change the subject, “I quite fancy Roulade.”
 
“You walked or driven?” P enquired when I caught up to her on the way to the lav as we waited for our food.
“Driven, why?”
“Got your sleepy and mattress.”
“Oh right, I’ll grab them in a bit. You think you could lay off the drink innuendo, Dad’s getting a bit suspicious.”
“He does know you drink right?”
“Course he does, just not how much and after the business with Ralf...”
“Oh right, mums the word.”
“Whatever you do don’t tell her!”
“Bond!” she allowed with a rolling of seeing things.
“Just saying,” I chuckled.
 
Well the Roulade, with salad, croquettes and gravy, went down well even if it goes against the grain to a) have salad on the same plate and b) refer to that thin paste as gravy! I might now officially be German but some things about the country of my birth are just so ingrained they can’t be ignored. You know, I reckon Yorkshire pud would work with Roulade!
 
“Here you go,” P advised passing me a big carrier with my sleeping stuff from last week.
“Er thanks.”
“Oh Ernst found your bra, I washed it with my stuff, its in the top.”
“P!” I hissed.
I was saved by Helmut, “you girls are working tomorrow?”
“If you want us?” Mand told him.
“There’s only one more after tomorrow,” Herr S told us, “end of the season.”
“Guess we’ll get fewer tourists at the kiosk,” I noted.
 
“Ernst?” Mand queried as we sorted out the washing.

Damn.

“Sorry?”
“P mentioned him just before we left, come on, give.”
“Oh Ernst, him and his mates were staying on the campsite.”
“I gathered that much, so what was he doing with your bra?”

Bum, bum, bum! I must’ve left it in his tent.

“Er must’ve dropped it when I did some laundry.”
“And this lad picks it up and randomly knows its yours? Pull the other one.”
“Maybe he saw it when I was at the beach, I mean its quite...”
“Ordinary,” Mand opined.

She’s got me there, its a plain flesh coloured t-shirt bra, no fancy lace or wires, just comfort.

“Er yeah, I dunno, probably just a guess.”
“Informed guess,” Mand suggested, “come on there's got to be more, was there kissing?”

I blushed.

“There was kissing, come on, I want details,” she demanded.

I could throttle you P, flippin’ blabbermouth!
 
De Vreen can be a right terrier when she gets hold of a thread of a story and Pia had given her not just cotton but needle too. There would be no let up until I told her, well at least something so we reconvened in my eyrie and I started my story.

“Doesn’t explain the bra,” she stated once I’d given her the fairy tale version of my contact with Ernst.
I shrugged, “maybe he saw me drop it?”

Well he did see me take it off but lets not go there.

“Hmm, so you got his number?”
“Possibly,” I allowed, “everyone was like swapping numbers, doesn’t mean anything.”
She raised a brow, “if you say so, Max know?”
“Not everything,” most certainly not everything but he’s not daft, well I don’t think he is.
“Maybe he should,” she posed.
“You wouldn’t?”
Her face broke into a wide grin, “course not, I’ve got skelly tons too. Your face though!”
“Why you!” I got out before swinging an easily deflected pillow at her.
 
I know she’s sworn fealty but last nights conversation with Mand had the subject of Ernst, well Max’s reaction to any Ernst revelations. Should I say something? It only needs blabber Sebenschuh to say something and it’ll be out anyway.

“Lover boy coming today?” Kris queried.
“Probably, why?”
“The far away look on your face,” I was informed.
“Er, oh right.”
“Talk about loves young dream.”
“We’re just friends,” I pulled out the much hackneyed line automatically.
“Friends with benefits, come on Gab, everyone in the valley knows you two are a couple.”
“They do?”
“You’d have to be blind not to.”
“Just to be straight, we only have the odd snog.”
“If you say so girl.”

Don’t I get any respect? I’m even getting cheeked by the hired help.
 
“Max?”
“Hmm?” he replied around a mouthful of Frikadel.
“You know last week?”
He cleared his mouth of food, “the camping?”
“Er yeah, look there were some boys staying there and I might have kissed one of them.”
“And?”
“Aren’t you bothered?”
“I trust you.”
“But I kissed someone else,” I persisted.
“Are you going to see them again?”
“I doubt it,” I admitted.
“So what have I got to be concerned about? we’re not married or anything, I’m not your gaoler so if you want to kiss someone else its not really my business.”
“But doesn’t it bother you,” I asked once more.
“I’d be lying if I said no, can I eat now?”

I grabbed several Pommes from his plate and stuffed them in my own mouth, I guess as long as he doesn’t find out about the tent and none of the Angels even know about that, I’m in the clear. Not that I intend to go round kissing random strangers, nope, not gonna happen.
 
“Bond, you coming?” Con called over.
“Yeah, yeah,” I answered before stowing my Handy in my bag.
“We’ll miss the Express if you don’t hurry.”
“I’m coming.”

The day has been largely without incident, well apart from my conversation with Max, although its been a bit cooler, more overcast. I crossed the road and hurried to where my BF was waiting.

“’bout time.”
“What’s the rush? Its not even at the crossing yet.”
“Getting ready for tonight?”

Tonight, to be honest my enthusiasm for getting all dirndled up has waned a bit over the summer, maybe its all the layers in the heat.

“Whatever,” I sighed.

We arrived on the platform at the same time as the Zug arrived – bags of time.

“You alright Gab?” Con asked as we found seats.
“Yeah.”
“You’ve been on another planet all day, I thought you were looking forward to Spain?”
“I am, there’s just all sorts of stuff going on.”
“You wanna talk?”

Talk, yeah I do but if I tell you what's on my mind Con, well I’ll have to come clean about Ernst and the drug stuff and Max and I’m not ready for that, not by a long chalk.

“Nah, just need to relax for a bit.”
 
Maddy Bell © 08.02.2018

 

 

“Er sorry Gab.”
“What for?”
“Last night, I was a bit er loose with the tongue,” P admitted.

That's one way of putting it.

“At least Dad didn’t hear everything.”
“Still, I should be more discreet.”

What do you say?

“Action girls!” Helmut called through saving me that task.

 

Well you know how it works, welcome drink, tour of the cellars then dinner in the restaurant, not a bad little excursion. As usual, once the visitors were out of the bar I got to look after the bus’s crew, this week, the blonde German girl and I think its Dennis. There’s definitely something off about Nena, not sure what mind, maybe her accent?

“Coffee?” I asked as they settled at the usual table.
“Er could I get Lemonade please Gaby, bit of a dicky stomach,” the driver asked.
“Sure, you want anything for it?”
“No, the lemonade will be fine.”
“Coffee for me,” Nena told me.
“Coming up.”

 

The guests filed back into the restaurant and found themselves seats, one of the women looked a bit familiar, not sure where from, maybe that Christmas trip that sparked this all off. I didn’t get the chance to get a better look as I only briefly served the other end of the main table. It was only on clear up that I saw the chap sat next to her, nah, couldn’t be, could it?

“You look thoughtful,” Inge mentioned as I deposited a pile of dishes for washing.
“Thought I recognised one of the passengers.”
“From before here?”
“Dunno, possibly.”
“Its possible, people come each year,” she allowed with a shrug.

 

I got a chance for a better look when the main course was served, it flippin’ well is.

“Worked it out yet Gab?” Inge queried.
“Worked what out?” Con asked from by my elbow.
“Gab thought she recognised one of the passengers.”
“They all look the same to me,” my BF chuckled.
“The pair next to the fat bloke, I’m sure its my old head master.”
“From before Silverberg?” Inge surmised.
“You could go and say hi,” Con suggested, “unless you were such a bad girl there.”
I ignored her addendum, “what if its not them?”
“Won’t know unless you try,” Con advised.
“Maybe after they’ve eaten.”

 

“Something up?” Nena enquired when I arrived to collect the crew’s plates.
“Not really, well I’m sure I know a couple of your passengers.”
“Happens to me all the time,” Dennis opined.
“Yeah but you’re going senile,” Nena ribbed her colleague in better English than I can manage. Strange indeed. “so which are they?” she asked twisting around to see the other diners.
“The couple next to the er big gentleman.”
“The Woods, Geoff and Brenda?” Nena told me.
“It is them!”
“How do you know them?”
“My Mum taught at the same school in England.” well I’m not admitting to being a pupil there.
“You should go and introduce yourself,” Dennis put forward.
“Er yeah, maybe, you want the Strudel or Eis?”

 

“Um, hi Mr Wood,” I offered along with his coffee.
“Do I,” the cogs turned, “Gaby?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“Bren,” he tugged at his wife's arm.
“What?” she asked turning around.
“Look who’s here luv.”
“Er hi Mrs Wood.”
“Gaby? Gaby Bond?”
“Yup, that's me.”
“My, you’ve grown.”
“Not up unfortunately,” I sighed.
“I certainly wouldn’t’ve recognised you lass.”
“It has been a while,” I conceded.
“More than that Gaby, you’ve positively bloomed, you’ve become a beautiful young woman, I bet your mother is proud of you,” Bren Wood suggested.
“Sometimes, don’t think she’s too keen on the hair.”
“I wouldn’t’ve thought this would be your career choice,” Woody mentioned.
“Geoff!” his wife admonished.
“Sorry Gaby, I just expected you to take a different career path.”
“Its alright, I just do this for pocket money, I run a Würst stand with Connie over there,” I pointed towards Thesing, “and I start catering college next month.”
“And still racing bikes like your mother?”
“Uh huh,” there was a time he would’ve told me and the rest of Warsop my results, “I’m off to Spain racing next week. So you having a break before the new term?”
“Something like that,” Bren agreed.
“Well I’d best get on, I’ll tell Mum I saw you.”
“Give her and your dad our best,” Mrs W confirmed, “I’ll give her a call when we get back.”
“Will do, enjoy the rest of your trip.”
“Thank you Juliette,” Woody smiled.

Juliette?

 

“So was it them?” Mand asked.
“Yeah, you remember they rescued us when we got marooned with that suicide the other year Con?”
“They were staying in Remagen right?” she recalled.
“Weihnachtsmarkt,” I agreed, “I always thought he was sharp as a tack, but he called me Juliette just now.”
“You’ve been left a long time Gabs,” P pointed out.
“Yeah, s’pose so.”

 

“What happened to you last night?” Mand asked Max as we set off for the walk back to Dernau.
“Went to see Mart, ended playing FIFA.”
“Gab was pining all night,” she told him.
“Was not!”
“You’ll have to make up for it tonight,” Con smirked.
“Might do,” he agreed.
“You’d best,” I exhorted.

 

Max didn’t actually stay that long, oh we had a decent enough snog but to be honest I wasn’t that enthusiastic, I guess he picked up on that.

“Guess who was at the Stube, on the coach tonight?” I posed to Dad handing him a cup of cocoa.
“How’m I supposed to know?”
“Guess.”
“I dunno, Superman?”
“You’re being daft, the Woods.”
“As in Warsop College?”
“Uh huh.”
“I bet that was a surprise.”
“You can say that again, I woulda thought he’d be at the school prepping stuff, its only like two weeks before they go back.”
“Probably recharging the batteries before term starts,” Dad suggested.
“Anyway they both send their best.”
“I’ll tell your mother, she’ll be sorry to’ve missed them.”

 

I found myself staring into the gloom of my bedroom ceiling, thinking not of bikes or Max but of my old headmaster. There was definitely something, I dunno, different about him. Maybe its just my memory but he was always sharp as, tonight he seemed to be, I dunno, a bit woolly.
Bren seemed to be more in charge and perhaps a bit, well, protective of him? And he called me Juliette, even with a school of like a thousand kids I’ve never known him get a name wrong. Warsop College, I really should contact Fran and its been a while since I spoke to Ally or even my cousin.

Is it really a year since I’ve seen the girls, no, more, Drea had her birthday a couple of weeks ago. Talking of which Bern’ll be arriving in a couple of weeks, that's gonna be so weird! A clap of thunder rolled down the valley, breaking my line of thought, I hope its dry in the morning.

 

Thursday morning did indeed arrive dry but the evidence of last nights storm lay along the roadside and the tarmac was damp for the most part on my ride up to Alternahr. I was early, even beating Kris to the cabin, I was changed and sipping at a cup of coffee before Herr T arrived with the Brötchen and pies.

“So how are the pies going? Ingenious eh?”
“Perhaps a bit of an acquired taste?” I suggested.
“Hmm, Therese said much the same.”
“Maybe just a plain chicken or steak next week?” I hinted.
“Simple, I like it, well I’ll see you later Gab, tschuss.”
“Tschuss,” I think he actually took the hint.

 

“That was a turn up eh,” Con mentioned as she helped herself to a drink a couple of hours later.
“Turn up?”
“Your old teacher being there like that last night.”
“Oh, Mr Wood, yeah bit of a surprise.”
“Can’t see Boxberg going on a coach holiday like that.”
“No,” I agreed, “probably not.”

I know the Woods came on that Weihnachtsmarkt trip the other year but I’m sure they used to go hiking in the alps and stuff. The man in the Stube last night certainly isn’t the one who used to strike terror into Drew Bond and the rest of teenage Warsop and Meden.

“I said, are you flying to Spain?”
“As if, no we’re driving, down to Lyon on Saturday then across to San Sebastian.”
“The race starts on Monday?”
“Nah, Wednesday.”
“So why’re you going Saturday?”
“Dad wants us fresh so we get to hit the beach!”
“Didn’t think you liked beaches.”
“Well they can have their attractions.”
“Juan no doubt.”
“Possibly,” I told her.

Well I’ve got no intention of going on a manhunt and I doubt we’ll get much chance to crash at the beach either, not with Dad in charge.

 

Maddy Bell © 09.02.2018

 

 

I was a little bit more on the ball than Tuesday, I was actually ready when Mand rolled up to the kiosk, the fact she was late had nothing to do with it, honest!

“Bye Mand, see you tomorrow Gabs!” Con called after us.
“Tschuss!” I returned with a cheery wave.

We didn’t get far – the crossing lights started as we approached and whilst we might’ve beat the barriers we both put the anchors on and came to a halt.

“The Express is a bit late,” Mand suggested.
“Or we are,” I countered.
“Hmmph.”
“Just saying.”
“If I see that damn dog again I’ll...”

I couldn’t help it, I snorted in amusement – again.

Apparently it was an escaped Fritzy that made her late, not chasing him but washing her bike off after the little blighter weed up her wheel! Well I thought it was funny. The Zug squealed and vibrated across the road, the gates swinging up almost as soon as the train was clear of the tarmac.

 

We followed the valley up to Dümpelfeld where we turned to follow the Ahr towards Blankenheim. Dad suggested we use some of the lanes up the sides of the Ahr gorge for some intensive climbing practice, there’s a bunch of them starting at Insul, all teen percentages with hairpins. By linking several of them we can get a fairly intense but varied workout without having to keep doing laps.

We took the turn in Insul, the climbing starting with a vengeance as soon as we crossed the river. You can’t go far around here without some climbing and with that you soon learn to select your gears in advance, both of us were already in the small ring, to stay seated we were soon well down the sprockets too. Not that you can sit around the hairpins, we rose steadily up the contours, one, two, three, a bit of a rest then the fourth and fifth hairpins before the gradient eased up towards Sierscheid.

Conversation had been left down at the river and only as we rolled across to Harscheid did we resume.

“Bleh!” Mand complained, “don’t want too many of them.”

She’d matched me pedal stroke to pedal stroke, she’s a better climber than she lets on.

“You can bet there’ll be some in Spain, and it’ll be hotter.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“Mum says its the heat more than the actual climbs that’s the killer.”
“Thanks oh bringer of joy.”
“I guess its the same for everyone,” I noted.
“Except the Spanish an’ that will be used to it.”
“It's not exactly been cold here.”
“But not top end of the thirties,” she pointed out.
“It won’t be that hot.”
“Ha! according to your dad it will.”
“Sugar,” I allowed.

 

We looped down onto the Munstereifel road and dropped in a helter skelter chase back to the river to continue up the valley. River and road looped their way to Fuchshofen where we made a turn onto the second climb. there’s no lead into this one, no soft start, no, this time we were out of the saddle before we’d done a hundred metres through the village.

I’ve only been up here a couple of times before and I soon remembered why. Eight hairpins doesn’t sound bad compared to the twenty odd on some alpine climbs but these are all squeezed into something like a kilometre and a half with grades topping twenty percent. No room for any brinkmanship this time, bottom gear and all of the effort was in keeping the bikes moving.

I risked going up a gear on the third ramp but had to drop it back at the bend, it was enough though to gain a couple of metres on de Vreen who’d stayed in bottom. She wasn’t giving me any quarter mind, she slowly closed the gap, sitting on my wheel through turn six before wheezing alongside on the ‘only’ ten percent ramp to the penultimate turn. Not that I was in any better condition, we both rose to get through another stupidly steep corner, even on the outside edge it was well into the teens.

The last ramp barely separates turn seven from eight which kept us up on the pedals until the road lost its viciousness through the meadows crowning the hilltop. I grabbed my bidon and took a hard pull of liquid as I fought to keep the red spots at bay.

“Feck!”
“Not many,” I gasped in agreement.
“Who decided that was a sensible place for a road?”
“Dunno, ‘s the worst one tonight I think.”
“’ope so, thought my legs were gonna explode.”
“Yeah.”

To be honest, it's not often you get such an intense climbing experience, there are steeper climbs, longer climbs, there are roads with more turns but you don’t generally get such an intense arrangement. No, Fuchshofen has to be right up there with anything in the Alps or even Yorkshire, for certain I’ve never ridden a climb close to its intensity anywhere else. I guess Dad wants us prepared for anything, if you can get up here, however slowly, you should manage anything a race will throw up.

 

There was a chance to recover across the top and a nice fast descent to Antweiler, must remember ‘that’ hairpin for next time mind! Once again we turned to follow the Ahr upstream first through Müsch then through a wider bit of the valley before spotting the next turn ahead.

“Bugger,” Mand allowed under her breath.
“It only goes up to that farm,” I informed her.
“Only,” she repeated dropping her chain to the smaller front option.

After the last one this time is really quite soft. We turned onto the ramp and kept an even cadence up and through the first corner, the second and then started the much steeper ramp to the second pair of hairpins. Four hundred metres of low teen grades with the steepest pitch just over half way, maybe twenty percent but only for like twenty metres tops. Twenty excruciating metres, I think we were both thankful to get over that without stalling.

The last bit up to Dorsel was almost a pleasure to ride even if there are a couple more short sharp ramps up to the crest of the hill. We bobbled along the ridge through Aremberg at a steady lick then got a chance to let it go as we dropped back to the Ahr. Three ‘sectors’ down, one to go, we turned, downstream this time towards Schuld, taking the opportunity to take on a bit of fuel on the almost level retracing of our earlier route.

 

Schuld is another awkward climb, not overly long although it does climb all the way to Harscheid, no its the first fifteen percent ramp straight up from the valley road that's the killer. I guess if you could take some speed into it you could give it some welly and cover the hundred fifty metres with some speed, when you have to wait to cross into the turn there’s no chance. Mand let out a deep sigh as we entered the road and on slightly rubbery legs we started to heave ourselves upwards once more.

Gott, that was painful, but of course there’s more, oh yes, Dad you’re a sadist! Bergstraße, says it all really, we crawled our way along the crest between two loops of the river until we entered the ever present woodland where the road picked a slightly less capricious gradient up to and through the first hairpin. Thankfully you can sit down on it and we kept up a nice pace even on the couple of steeper sections up into Harscheid.

Of course we were here earlier and now we retraced to Sierscheid and a chance to practice hairpins going downhill. The couple of K down to Insul went far too quickly even with the tight turns slowing us almost to a halt, much, much quicker than going up. From here its almost all downhill back to Dernau and Ill admit that I was pretty glad of that, by the drawn look on Mands fizzogg she was too.

 

“Good ride?”
“Mum, didn’t know you were back?”
“Flying visit, off to Oslo tomorrow.”
“Alright for some.”
“You are off to Spain for a week,” she pointed out.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Dad says you were doing hill repeats?”
“Not exactly repeats, I think Dad found all the worst climbs this side of the Rhein.”
“Sounds about right, Fuchs?”
“The one with all the hairpins, yeah.”
“Ooo, nasty,” she suggested.
“No kidding.”
“Hi Mrs B,” Mand offered arriving from below dressed in just a towel after what must be the quickest shower ever.
“Hi Amanda, looking forward to Spain?”
“As long as there’re no climbs like we did today.”
“There are some nasty ones down there, mostly long rather than steep.”
“So why did we just kill ourselves on that lot?” I put in.
Mum shrugged, “sure your Dad has his reasons, go get sorted out, Spätzle okay for tea?”
“On its own?”
“Dur, daughter mine, I’ll dress it up, chicken, veggies?”
“Sounds good to me,” Mand opined.

I wouldn’t’ve minded something more, I dunno, meaty maybe but I guess I’ve got out of cooking.

“Yeah, there’s some peas in the fridge you could use up.”
“Half an hour then.”

 

Well it was closer to forty minutes later that the four of us convened around the kitchen table and started on the egg noodles.

“Da-ad?” I started after clearing my plate.
“Ga-by,” he mimicked back.
“You know me and Mand did all those stupid climbs today?”
“Yes.”
“Why? I mean Mum says the Spanish climbs are mostly just long.”
“Whoa, leave me out it,” Mum told me.

Dad pushed a last fork full of food into his mouth, giving Mum a questioning look. He finished his food and took a swig of his beer before answering.

“Your Mum’s not wrong, most of the climbs will be low grade but long however I was talking to Darren the other week, apparently last time he did the junior Vuelta they chucked in several nasty little climbs, had half the field pushing on one.”
“You think they’ll do that this time?” Mand queried.
“Don’t they show on the race profile?” I added.
“There’s a good chance Manda but they are probably too small to notice on the profile.”
“Short and steep,” Mum suggested.
“Precisely love,” Dad confirmed.
I sighed deeply, “joy.”
“If I get a chance to warn you all I will,” Dad went on, “but its quite possible you’ll turn a corner and be faced with a wall.”
“Great.”
“So anyone want pud?” Mum enquired.

 

“Mum?”
“Yes love.”
“Did Dad mention that I saw Woody yesterday?”
“Geoff?”
“Er yeah, him and his wife were on the coach that comes to the Stube.”
“Surprised he’s not at the college getting ready for the new term.”
“He didn’t seem to be very with it, he kept calling me Juliette,”
“It has been a couple of years kiddo.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “oh they send their love.”

Mum looked thoughtful, pausing from sorting out the coffee cups.

“I guess I really should give Bren a call when I get back from Norway.”
“Bring us a prezzie?” I hinted.
“Kids,” she half heartedly complained.

 

Maddy Bell © 16.03.2018

 

 

“You packed?” Mand asked as we headed up to bed.
“Packed?”
“I bet you haven’t even started have you?” she suggested.
“Sort of,” I half heartedly replied, well you know me and packing.
“You really are impossible Gab,” she sighed.
“And I suppose you’re all packed?”
“Mostly, just need to do a knicker wash tomorrow.”

Oh bum, wonder if I’ve got enough clean underwear? My expression must’ve given me away.

Mand sighed, “leave them out, I’ll put them through with mine.”
“Thanks Mand,” I grinned back.
“You owe me Bond!” she called after me as I scooted up the stairs to my eyrie.

 

You know what its like, packing for a holiday, have I got enough, what if it snows, can those shoes double up, have I got enough sun screen and when there’s bikes involved there’s twice as much to remember. Its not like I’d forgotten about packing, I did start the other day, well my racing gear is in the bag, well to be honest its all been in the kit bag since I didn’t get to ride the other week. Spurred into action I dragged my case out and started throwing stuff in that general direction, it was after twelve before I was done.

 

“Morning,” I chirped arriving in food central the following morning.
“Morning kiddo,” Dad replied around his toast.
“Mum gone?”
“About thirty minutes ago.”

I must’ve been in the shower.

“Stupid question but are you packed for tomorrow?” Dad went on.
“Almost, Mand’s gonna do some smalls for me, oh sugar, be right back!”
I nearly bowled de Vreen over as I sprinted back up to fetch my laundry.
“Where’s the fire?”
“Soz.”

 

“You want a lift up?” Dad enquired half an hour later as I sipped at my second cup of coffee.
“I thought you’d be going to Neuwied?”
“Later, Darren’s meeting me at Apollinaris to load the bikes this morning so I can pop you up first.”
“Can I grab a lift too Mr B?” Mand asked.
“You’ll be really early for your shift,” Dad suggested.
“I need to do some shopping first.”
“Thought you were doing laundry,” I interjected with a slight hint of panic.
“It can go in before, it won’t take long to dry in the machine later.”
“Tell you what,” Dad rejoined the conversation, “I’ll drop Gab off and pick you up on the way back?”
“Can you get me some factor fifty?”

Well it’ll save me going along to the pharmacy in Adenau later. Mand just stuck her hand out for my cash.

 

“When do you go?” Kris asked as we sorted out the garden tables.
“Early tomorrow, down into France then on Sunday its through to San Sebastian.”
“Don’t you get bored with all that driving?”
“I sleep a lot and there’s usually a card school if Gret has anything to do with things.”
“So you stay in your camper on the way then?”
“As if! It’ll probably be some one star motel place.”
“The real high life eh?”
“Yeah,” I agreed with a sigh.

Thinking about it, the camper might not be such a bad idea, Mum’s told us about those Formul One places. I guess its only one night and there’s plenty of sleep time between here and Spain.

 

“When are you back?” Max asked as we both picked at his plate of Pommes.
“Late Sunday,” I advised as I dipped my chip in the blob of mayo.
“Late?”
“It is a long way from Spain.”
“You should be flying, it doesn’t cost much these days,” he opined.
“Oh yeah, with all our gear that’s gonna happen,” I snorted.
“You flew to Japon.”
“Yeah but we didn’t have the bikes and stuff for that, we’ve got a van load of bikes this time and there’s more of us, it would cost a fortune,” I pointed out.
“I guess,” he allowed, “so where are you going again?”
“Er, near San Sebastian, I think its on the north coast somewhere.”
“Nowhere near Madrid then?”
“Nope, well I don’t think so.”
“Right.”
“Why? What are you up to von Strechau?”
“Nothing, just curious, we went to Madrid a couple of years ago, nice place.”
“Never been, we went to Majorca once,” I allowed.
“I suppose a quick snog is out of the question?” he posed.

 

“Best sort your face out Bond,” Con smirked.
“Wh...” I caught site of my reflection in the microwave door, “oh bum.”

Yeah, my lip gloss was er, somewhat smeared, good job it was fairly neutral or Max would’ve looked a right weirdo! I did a quick repair job in the back before returning to the hot plate.

“How’re you two gonna cope for a whole week?”
“Cope? What are you on about Thesing?”
“Tonsil hockey,” she told me with a mocking smack of her lips.
“Give over.”
“They’ll be smooching their Handy’s,” Kris suggested.
“Ew!” Con grimaced.
“You’re only jealous.”
“As if!”
There was something in her voice that suggested otherwise, I’m not totally insensitive so dropped the subject.

 

The afternoon passed quickly enough, not so busy that we were rushed off our feet but enough that we weren’t stood idle for more than a minute or two. Its only a couple of weeks before the schools restart and clearly some families were keen to make the most of the remaining summer. Unusually then we had quite a few kiddies visiting the kiosk with their parents, where there are kids, Frites will be in demand, as a result I must have cooked about ten kilos of potatoes at least.

Eventually though it was time to shut for the day, of course there are end of day chores to do, I was just finishing scraping off the hotplate when Con’s phone went off.

“Thesing? Oh high mum….yeah bout ten minutes….no, the Zug’s in about twenty minutes….okay then, see you soon, Tschuss.”
“Sounded cryptic,” I opined.
“Mum’s gonna give us a lift down, she’s just about to leave her friends place up in Lind.”
“Cool,” I allowed, the Express is okay but at this time it can be a bit of a bun fight to get a seat.

 

“Hi Mrs T.”
“Someone sounds happy,” Cons mum, my nominal boss suggested as I climbed into their ageing car.
“We’ve been pretty busy this afternoon,” Con put in as she found her seat belt.
“That’s good, we might see a return on the investment yet,” Therese mentioned with a smile.
“I thought we were doing okay?”
“You are Gaby, the books are essentially in the black but we spent a lot on new equipment and decorations which we need to claw back at some point.”
“So the kiosk isn’t making any money?” I queried.
“Its doing very well girls but the capital expense has to be serviced too.”
“She means we have to pay the investment off,” Con told me.
“Er right,” I kinda get that, the Thesing’s need a return on the money they’ve spent. “so like how does that work?”
“We’ve set it up so that any profits are split between paying off the investment and a capital account for the business.”
“What do we need that for?”
“Well its there for emergencies but also if you need new crockery or stuff you won’t have to borrow money.”
“Makes sense, so like how much do we owe?”
“Too much,” Con mumbled in the front.
Frau T, paused before answering, “just under five thousand.”
“Like I said, too much,” Con repeated.
“It doesn’t sound so bad Con,” I offered.

Our conversation was cut short as we arrived at the bakery.

“You want to eat with us?” Therese asked.

It was tempting, but I do need to finish packing and I sort of promised Han I’d go to guard tonight, damn.

“Er best not, need to be ready for tomorrow.”
“Okay, well good luck on the race Gab,” Mrs T offered.
“Thanks.”
“Ring me,” Con suggested as we exchanged a parting hug, “and don’t fall off.”
“I’ll try not to, see you next week.”
“Yeah, glück!”

 

“Your knickers and stuff are on your stairs,” de Vreen called out from the lounge.
“Er cheers, Dad not back?”
“Did you see the camper?” Mand queried.
“Guess not then,” I answered my own question, “let me change and I’ll start dinner.”

True to her word my scanties were in a pile on my steps, I scooped them up and continued up to my eyrie. The house phone started to ring, I ignored the noise, Mand can answer, I need to change after all.

 

“Just us two eating,” Mand advised when I returned downstairs.
“Oh?”
“Said he’ll eat at the house before he comes back.”

I let out a sigh, bum, wonder if I can scrag a lift to Garde with P?

“Right, you okay with something on toast?”
“I guess, not beans though.”
yeah bit of a cliché that, “egg?”
“’kay,” she agreed.

 

Well to be honest I wanted a bit more than just egg on toast, I didn’t really have lunch just those few Frites off Max’s plate. I went to the fridge and started collecting ingredients, need to get rid of the odds and ends anyway as we’re not here for a bit.

“Thought we were having egg on toast,” Mand queried with a happy expression.
“Used up a few bits,” I told her as I passed her a plate of my version of an all day Bauernefrühstück, scrambled egg, onion, tomato, a fried egg on top, some bacon, fried potatoes and the last of our English style sausages, a couple of rounds of toast on the side.
Mand sighed happily, “wish I could cook.”
“You could learn,” I pointed out as I dug into the pile of food.
“I could but what would you do then?”

Sometimes her logic completely defeats me.

 

Maddy Bell © 19.03.2018

 

 

“Hi Inge,” I offered as i clambered into the back of her ‘new’ pride and joy, a little red Polo her rents stumped up for for her birthday.
“Heya Gab.”

Its a two door so I had to turn myself around and pull my bag into the back before I could sit and let Pia put her seat back down, its a good job its not Max getting in!

“Er thanks for taking us up Inge.”
“Gave me an excuse to escape the kitchen for a bit,” she admitted.

P climbed into the front and our chauffeur set us in motion.

 

Its been a busy week what with one thing and another so whilst Garde is all about pretty regimented movements and actions it was quite relaxing. I looked along the line, Maria, Franny, Solde each with deadpan expressions even if I could see Margot doing her best to make them laugh. I had a little internal smile whilst maintaining my own blank face, I might not be a full time member of the squad but that doesn’t mean Hannah expects anything less from me.

“Aaaa-and bring to arms and hold!” our coach instructed.

I’m not saying its easy, just try holding a kilo of toy gun at arms length for thirty seconds without moving. That said its not the intense physical effort of cheer or bike riding, its all about control, even if you compete in ridiculous uniforms which are more Disney™ on ice than even pseudo military. And as for the hair and make-up, but i’ve been through that before and on practice nights I don’t have to put up with either.

“Okay girls you can relax now,” Han allowed after what seemed an age.
“Urgh!” I allowed dropping my arms to a more comfortable position cradling the prop across my chest.
“That was not funny Margot,” Solde complained.
“Stop bickering you two,” Han requested.
“Sorry Hannah,” Margot meekly supplied.
“You sure you can’t do Sunday Gab?”
“’fraid not,” I gave a shrug, “I’ll be in Spain remember.”
“Urgh! Of course, you said before,” she sighed.
“I would if I could,” I told her.
“I know, I suppose we’ll just have to hope Margot’s wrist is okay.”
“I’m sure it will be,” Margot suggested.
Han sighed again, “lets hope so.”

 

“Sorry I can’t do Sunday,” I told Hannah again as I joined her and P in her car to return down the valley.
“Just one of those things Gab, if we had a few more members we wouldn’t be quite so pushed to put out a team.”
“Toy soldiers hasn’t got so much appeal at the moment,” Pia proposed as we bounced down through Mayschoß.
“Can hardly say that we’ve got a lot doing cheer either,” I pointed out.
“What we need is a recruitment drive,” P opined.
“Yeah,” Han agreed.

We dropped P off at the Stube and we quickly reached Castle Bond.

“Well good luck in Spain next week.”
“Thanks and you on Sunday,” I offered climbing out of the car.
“Tschuss!”
“Bye!”

 

“Ah, your back,” Dad noted when I got indoors.
“Hi.”
“You all packed kiddo?”
“Just about,” I allowed cautiously.
“Good, if you bring them down I can load them up.”
“Er okay,” I agreed.
“You want a hand Gab?” Mand offered.
“Er sure, yeah.”

 

I led the way up to the eyrie, Mand a step behind me.

“I thought you were packed?” she queried arriving in my hole.
“Well I am pretty much.”

Yeah right. Well there were piles of stuff heaped in my suitcase but packed it wasn’t.

“Geez Gab, come on, your dad’ll go spare.”

She wasn’t wrong. It took us nearly fifteen minutes in the end, Mand packing the case as I handed her stuff then it was a quick check of the contents of the race bag.

“Training gear and spare shoes.”
“Sugar, I knew there was something missing.”
“Good job I put them in a bag in the hall then, we can stick ‘em in here when we go down, what about your phone charger?”
“I’m ahead there, I’ve got a spare one in my bag.”
“Woo, that’s planning.”
“More like because I forgot it that weekend we were at Hamburg.”
“That’s more like the Gab I know,” Mand snickered.
“Where are those bags?” Dad called up from below.
“Coming.”

 

“Where’re we meeting the others?” I asked as I blearily poured a cup of coffee at silly o’clock Saturday morning.
“Down where we join the Trier motorway, we’ll sort out who’s riding where before we continue on.”
“What do you mean?”
“Kat’s bringing George’s team car down, there’s not enough seats in the BC bus really.”
“Kat? Driving?”
“She is nineteen,” Dad pointed out.
“How come she’s not gone to Norway?”
“George thought she’d be more use to us in Spain, they’ve got Petra after all.”
“Right.”
“Any of that left?” Mand queried joining us in the kitchen.

 

Its not a long way down to Mayen but the short way isn’t necessarily the quickest route - especially in the Hymer so rather than going over the ‘Ring we went down towards Koblenz on the autobahn before cutting across to our rendezvous point. Kat – and the senior team’s five series estate was already waiting in the lay-by, we’d barely stopped before a toot alerted us to the mini bus and panel van’s arrival.

“Wait here please.”

Dad got out and went to speak to the bodies climbing from the other vehicles, the bus certainly looked cramped, whilst its a fifteen seater, with all the bags it was a bit of a sardine can, Angela had actually been in with Darren in the bike van! There was a bit of gesticulation and bodies started to move, Dad returning to the camper.

“Either of you want to go with Kat?”
“Er sure,” I volunteered.
“Mand?”
“I’ll stay here if that's okay.”
“No problem, Angela’s coming in the Hymer, Jamie’s going with Darren in the van and you’ll have Laura in with you and Kat Gab.”

In total there are eleven of us, Me, Mand, Tal, Gret, Daz and Josh from Apollinaris, Jamie, Geth, Lor, Sal and Claire from BC, Cav having already joined the BC Swiss team earlier in the week. Eleven a funny team number yeah well we’ll be riding as two teams, Apollinaris of course and somehow Dad got the Schauff people to stump up some money to support the eponymous Rheinland Express – Schauff team, otherwise known as BC who with Cav’s loss will have a Spanish lad making up the numbers. Officially we’re two teams of course but clearly we’ll be sharing resources and we might co-operate a bit on the road.

 

Kat spun the BMW out onto the road and straight up the slip road onto the autobahn.

“You been taking lessons from Mum,” I queried gripping my seat tightly as we accelerated into the traffic.
“Eh?”
“She drives like a loon, geez Kat we’re doing nearly one fifty.”
“What? Oh right,” she allowed easing off the accelerator a little and dropping into the middle lane.
“You always drive so fast?”
“Probably, never thought about it.”

Maybe I should’ve stayed in the camper.

“You okay Lor?”
“Er yeah,” she replied a bit uncertainly from the back seat.

Our first break had been agreed as the services just before the Luxembourg / French border almost a hundred and fifty kilometres south. Maybe I can survive that long?

“So how are things Gab, long time no see.”

 

It was just turned nine thirty when Kat took us off the motorway and into Bierchem services.

“I’ll just top up the tank, its cheaper here than in France,” Kat advised heading towards the huge array of fuel pumps.
“Does Dad know?”
“Think so,” Kat replied pulling up beside a pump.
“I’ll give him a call just in case.”
“Not here Gab,” Kat pointed at the sign on the nearest pillar.
“Meet you at the restaurant place then,” I suggested.
“Okay.”
“Lor, toilets?”
“Er yeah, sure,” she agreed releasing herself from her restraints.

 

Well of course I didn’t ring Dad’s phone, he is driving after all, no I called Mand.

“Gab? Where are you? You guys just disappeared.”
“At the services., what about you?”
There was a mumbling before she replied, “we just crossed into Luxembourg.”
“Kat says the fuel is cheaper here than in France, don’t know if Dad knows that.”
“I’ll let him know.”
“Okay, see you in a bit, tschussie.”
“Byeee.”

 

Kat found us in the coffee shop a few minutes later.

“Ooh, you star,” she grinned spotting the third cup on the table, “speak to your dad?”
“Manda, they were just heading into Luxembourg, be about ten minutes now I guess.”
“You guys want something to eat? those chocolate muffins look good.”
“Muffin Lor?”
“I could be tempted,” she allowed with more animation than I’d seen from her since getting in with Kat.

Of course Kat does enough English to understand Lor, its just the other way I need to translate – even after a few weeks in Germany she, along with the others, hasn’t really got as far as understanding much spoken German. Oh they can manage to feed themselves and shop if need be but you don’t need much in the way of conversation for that. Its not like when I arrived here, I had to learn and quick.

 

We were still feeding our faces when the rest of our convoy rolled up, several bodies made an immediate dash for the conveniences, whilst others were more restrained. You don’t get a table for sixteen in a motorway coffee shop, so our crew had quickly commandeered just about every free table in the place. Of course there was a lot of chat as Kat was introduced and I caught up with what’s been going on since I last saw them.

Refreshed, we returned to our vehicles, our next rendezvous point is supposed to be Reims and of course the French Peage should help tame some of Kat’s excessive speed.

 

Maddy Bell © 19.03.2018

 

 
Lets face it, one motorway is much like all the others, the signs might be different, the Belgians like their street lights, the French their tolls but essentially they’re all the same, long, straight and boring. By the time we reached the A4/A31 junction at Metz the radio was on, Lor was reading her book, I was half watching the French countryside beyond the glass and Kat was happily humming along to the music. Maybe I was a bit glib with Kris suggesting the journey would be boring, maybe its less so in the minibus but here in the car, well its like watching paint dry – slowly.

I guess I should explain exactly why, when we’re going down to Spain that we’re heading west for Reims. Indeed if you look at a map of France you’d pick a more direct route across the Massif Central but therein lies the problem. Unlike Germany, France is poorly served with motorways and a more direct route would involve either extra miles or significant amounts of minor roads, there’s not even much in the way of useful N roads.

And so our route takes us across to Paris then down the A10 to our overnight stop at Poitiers. Then tomorrow we go down past Bordeaux and Biarritz before crossing over into Spain and our base for a couple of days at San Sebastian. The race is all centred around Pamplona about an hour from the coast, we change hotels on Tuesday.
 

“Wee stop coming up,” Kat advised much sooner than I’d been expecting.
“That’s quick.”
Our driver gave a shrug, “its where your dad said to stop.”

Who am I to argue? Of course even if we’re not going at silly kph we lost the others before we got to Metz. We turned into the Aire de Champagne, Reims and pulled straight around to the car park this time.

“So where are we?” Lor queried as we walked across the windswept apron towards the facilities.
“Aire de Champagne,” I supplied, “not far from Reims.”
“As in the drink?”
“Guess so.”

To be honest I hadn’t given it a thought, there’s a Bakewell for Bakewell tart, a Yorkshire for Yorkshire pudding so I guess its not too much of a stretch for fizzy wine to actually come from somewhere called Champagne. We did the toilet thing and hit the shop for in car supplies, we were still perusing the ‘regional’ goods when the rest of Apollinaris / Schauff arrived.
 

“Where are we gonna eat?” I asked Dad.
“I’d like for us to get past Paris, there’s some fruit in the bus if you can’t last that long.”
“How long is long?”
“Maybe three hours.”
“Three hours? that’s like two o’clock!” I exclaimed.
“Sorry kiddo.”

I’m not exactly a big fruit fan but a bag of Gummi bears, a packet of biscuits and a bottle of Liptons™ is gonna be stretched to keep three of us fed for three hours.

“Lor, fruit!” I called out before setting off back towards the services.
“Where you going Gab?” Dad called after me.
“Food!”
 

By the time I returned there was only the BMW left in the car park with Kat and Laura leaning against it.

“You bought the place up?” Kat suggested.
“Hardly, the others gone?”
“Well spotted detective, five minutes ago.”
“But we have food,” I mentioned shaking the bag of comestibles in the air.
“Come on then, don’t want to get too far behind,” Kat opined.
“So what did you get?” Lor enquired as we rejoined the L’Autoroute de L’Est going, er, west.

I reached into the bag and withdrew a baguette, “sandwiches, crisps,” I announced “and more wet.”
 

Reims was behind us before Kat looked over, “so what’s in the sandwiches?”
“Dunno, I just grabbed them off the shelf.”
“Well look then,” she suggested.
I dug into the bag, “Fromage et Jambon, er Poulet Cruditès and Oeuf Mayonnaise.”
“At least there’s no snails or frog legs,” Kat advised.
“What do you want Lor, cheese and ham, chicken salad or egg mayo?”
“Chicken?” she proposed.
I passed the sandwich back, “Kat?”
“Split?”
“Whatever,” I agreed, “you want this opening?” I went on, brandishing a bottle of water.

And so the three of us tucked into our impromptu picnic in the outside lane of the Paris bound motorway.
 

“TGV!” I enthused a bit further towards the capital.
“Where?” Lor asked from behind.
I pointed out across the fields, “its just going past those trees.”
“Think the line follows the motorway most of the way to Paris,” Kat suggested.
“We could’ve come by train,” Lor opined.
“Probably costs more than flying on those things,” I offered as we watched the train speeding through the French countryside towards gay Parree.
“Like the ICE,” Kat added.
“Yeah, one day,” I sighed.
 

The motorway got busier with each kilometre closer to Paris, we caught the van, bus, camper convoy much further along than I had expected but I think Kat was past the whole ‘big fast car’ thing now so we were travelling at a lower velocity ourselves. One hour passed, but as the second hour approached we were moving much slower in a sea of city bound traffic.

“Chips?” I enquired offering the bag of potato crisps to my fellow travellers.
“Cheers,” Kat allowed taking a handful, “this’ll put a dent in the schedule.”
“Yeah, bet Dad wasn’t expecting this lot.”
 

We shuffled along, the fields replaced by increasing numbers of industrial buildings and apartment blocks.

“There’s a lot of junctions,” Lor mentioned.
“No kidding,” I agreed, “we have to turn anywhere?”
“Your dad said we go past Orly, we want the A10?” Kat suggested.
“Orly airport?” Laura put in.
“Yeah I think so,” I replied, “why?”
“I think we should’ve taken that last junction.”
“Bugger!” Kat stated with a frustrated slap on the steering wheel.
“Can’t we just turn around at the next junction?”
“Possibly,” Pinger allowed.

Which would’ve been fine if the next junction hadn’t been shut.
 

“Right here, turn, turn!” I implored as we came to the next interchange.
“Here?” Kat asked.
“Yeah,” I replied in a panic.

If you’ve been to Paris you’ll know how everyone drives in Paris, if you haven’t been, use public transport when you do! The end of the L’Autoroute de L’Est at Bercy has roads going every which way, if you know where you want to go its actually quite simple, if you don’t like us its a harrowing series of late turns, near misses and blue language from the driver.

“I thought we were going back?” Lor queried.
“This one’s signed for the airport,” I called back.
“I hope the right one,” Kat added.
“There’s more than one?”
“Is that the Seine?” Lor put in.
I looked out of the window, “guess so.”

Not that you could actually see very much but I guess the city centre must be up that way somewhere.
 

We followed the airport signs and a couple of turns and tunnels then much to our relief there was a sign suggesting we were on the Bordeaux road. Amazingly we’d got ourselves onto the L’Autoroute du Soleile which we swapped for L’Aquitaine shortly after the airport turn which I guess we should’ve come along. I reckon our excursion into Paris cost us a good thirty minutes not that the others did much better as we found ourselves a few cars behind them as the fields started to return alongside the autoroute.

Kat held station, we don’t want to get lost again, and true to Dad’s prediction we pulled into the services just turned two.
 

“How did you get behind us?” Mand asked when we joined the camper crew to follow the rest towards the restaurant.
“Thought we’d have a look at Paris.”
“You went into Paris?”
“It wasn’t exactly planned,” Lor told her.
“We missed a turn,” I admitted.
 

“So how much further today?” I asked picking at my miserable Croque-Monsieur.
Dad ran the calculation through his head, “about three fifty I think, we’ll have a comfort stop at Tours then push through to Poitiers.”
“Its not as far tomorrow is it?”
“No and we don’t have to get around Paris either.”
“That was a nightmare,” I stated.
“Kat said you did a good job navigating.”
“More by luck than judgement!”
“We might’ve been better going that way, there was an accident on the Périphérique just as it crosses the river.”
“Is there another way we can go on the way back?”
“I’ll look during the week, it’ll be chronic on a Monday morning that's for sure.”
“Ready Dave?” Caro queried returning from the ablutions.
 

Back out on the A10 Kat returned to her lead foot ways and we covered the hundred twenty or so kilometres to Orleans in under an hour and much the same to the Tours services.

“We need fuel,” Kat advised as we slowed on the off ramp.
“’kay, anyone want anything in the shop?”
“I’ll come,” Lor stated, “I need a wee anyhow.”
“You could get me a coffee?” Kat suggested.
“Sure,” I agreed releasing my seatbelt.
 

This time though we weren’t waiting for the others, we were driving point so that we can get us all checked in before they get to Poitiers. So after doing the necessaries then topping up with coffee we headed back out onto the motorway without seeing the others. It was only another hour’s drive down to our destination and once we’d negotiated a couple of convoluted junctions we found our accommodation, not a Formule 1 but a step up, well sort of, its an Express in the middle of an industrial estate.

So okay, we’ve got here, fine, we’ve got all the room keys but Kat’s the only one with any luggage. Oh well, I decided to get a shower anyhow, at least I won’t be fighting with Mand when they get here.
 

‘Brrrrnnnng, bring, Brrrrnnnng, bring.’

I found my Handy and took the call.

“Where are you kiddo?”
“Hi Dad, in my room, why? Where are you?”
“Outside, I’ve been trying to get through to Kat, she with you?”
“She muttered something about a lie down, I’ve got the key cards though.”
“That’s my girl,” Dad sighed.
“Let me get some clothes on and I’ll meet you in reception in like...”
“Five minutes, I know,” he chuckled.
 

Maddy Bell © 20.03.2018

 

 
“She’s got us in some place in the old town, half seven-ish,” Caro reported having been delegated as the best French speaker in our collective.
“Right folks,” Dad mentioned quite loudly to be heard over the various conversations taking place, “looks like we escape the drive thru after all so Apollinaris people uniforms please, BC, smart please, you all know the score.”

There were of course moans all round, none louder than my own. Its not even the dresses themselves so much but having to wear heels, slap and so on just to eat dinner. Oh, and we girls look like we should be pushing a trolley up and down the plane for some budget airline. We all trooped off back to our rooms and no I’m not sharing with Josh this year, I’ve got Mand of course, well its just easiest.

“I could eat a horse,” de Vreen suggested as we dolled ourselves up.
“Be careful what you wish for,” I warned.
“I thought that was just Belgium?”
“Watch out for the un-named meat is all I’m saying.”

 
By using the BMW and the minibus we all arrived in downtown Poitiers and after a couple of false turns arrived at Le Bistro Alain, best described as a typical French bar / restaurant. Dad and Caro went inside leaving the rest of us milling about outside where tables filled a good lump of the street.

“We’re probably gonna eat on the roof,” Gret suggested.
“Yeah, bit suspect fitting us lot in on a Saturday night,” Tal opined.
“There’s not many people about like,” Josh observed.
“Maybe they don’t come out until its dark,” Mand proposed.

Hmm, there could be mileage in that idea.

 
Dad came back out and somehow got our attention again.

“Right, so they’ve put us on a couple of tables in the garden at the back, we’re having the fixed menu, if I understood the maitre its some sort of salad, main course is chicken then coffee afterwards. they’ll come out to get the drinks ordered, soft drinks only please.”
“What are you looking at me for?” I asked, well he was looking at me when he issued that dictate.
“I wasn’t picking on you kiddo, its the same for everyone.”
Mand whispered in my ear, “maybe he’s heard about your camping trip?”

Well, the fear of that was enough for the colour to drain from my face. I missed the rest of what he was saying, I just followed as everyone filed inside the restaurant. No he can’t know about Bad Dürckheim, can he? I mean he’s not said anything but would he, and who’d tell him anyway?

“Gab, you sitting or what,” Lor queried breaking my daydream.

 
It was clear the garden wasn’t usually used for food, the tables were those round cast iron things, several pushed together to make each bigger table. No one actually lost more than cutlery but there were a few close calls with the drinks. Still, we were getting fed and it wasn’t burger and fries which is okay but not great fuel for sports peoples.

Considering the price, seven and a half euros a head, I think we did pretty well. The salad turned up in huge bowls, self serve which was actually quite good and I could’ve happily eaten more bread dipped in the light dressing. The main course was something apparently called Poulet Basquaise, well that's what it said on the chalk board anyhow, chicken pieces with ham, mushrooms and stuff in a white wine sauce served with ‘wild’ rice.

The courses were delivered to table quickly, evidently they wanted shot of us before the ‘regular’ clientele arrived. Even so it was approaching nine when we left.

“What now Mr Bond?” Claire asked as we made our way back to the transport.
“Now,” Caro intervened, “its back to the hotel and an early night, we’ve got another early start and a fair way to go.”
“What did you think,” Sal added, “we were going clubbing or something?”
“Well no,” Claire allowed.
“Breakfast is at seven so set your alarms, bags at the same time please,” Dad told us.

 
“Well it wasn’t horse,” I stated dropping onto ‘my’ bed when we got back to our room.
“I thought it was quite nice, bit tight with the coffee mind.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, the cups had been tiny, the coffee thick and strong, “we have got the kettle.”
“But have we get anything else?” Mand posed.

Don’t look so surprised, Mum kitted me up last year and the stuff is an admittedly little used fixture in my case. I fished in the bag and pulled out said plastic box.

“Kettle, cup, tea bags, coffee and yes milk.” I crowed finding the supply of creamers filched on a Dinea visit a few weeks ago.
“Only one cup?”
“We can use one of those plastic glass things.”
“What’re we waiting for, gis the kettle.”

 
“You awake?”
“Hmmm?” Mand mumbled from the other bed, “wassa time?”
I checked my watch, “half five.”
“Urgh, go back to sleep!”
“Can’t, its too light.”

Which was the truth, the curtains may as well have been open for what good they were doing, the sun streaming in as if a searchlight was mounted outside the window.

“Urgh!” Mand complained pulling her pillow over her head.
“You want a drink?”
“Whiskey and soda,” came the mumbled reply.
“I meant like tea,” I pointed out, “didn’t take you as a spirits drinker.”
“Not but it might get me back to sleep.”
“Well I’m having one.”
“Whisky?”
“Tea stupid,” I replied as I adjusted my pyjamas to something closer to decent.

 
Breakfast might’ve been planned for seven but clearly I wasn’t the only one not able to sleep, we were pretty much all in the breakfast room somewhat before the allotted time. It was hardly a vast repast on offer, croissants, fruit, cereal and machine coffee but it was better than nothing. There was a bit of jiggling of the seating arrangements, Lor returned to the minibus and instead Josh and Tal occupied the BMW’s rear seat.

Rather than the A10 which heads out towards the coast we took the more direct N10 which it turns out is mostly quite a good dual carriageway. Dad reckons its a bit shy of six hundred kilometres today under another blue sky interrupted only rarely by the odd cloud scudding high above.

“You mind?” I asked Kat waving a cassette tape I’d found in my bag.
“Sure, this French station is appalling.”

You had to agree with that statement, I’m not saying all the German stations are great, Radio One they ain't, but compared to French pop they are brilliant. I slipped the cassette into the player and hit the play button, after a moment or two of hissing the familiar intro to Queen’s Bo Rhap filled the car. Everyone knows Bo Rhap, like everyone knows the Beatles catalogue, Kat was soon tapping the steering wheel.

Of course I was soon singing along with some gusto, the familiar lyrics tripping off the tongue. Of course I changed the words like I do with BlauHase, boy becomes girl, he becomes she, not sure if anyone else ever noticed, no one said anything anyhow. With Josh and Tal otherwise occupied it became Gabyoki with occasional input from Kat as we headed ever southward.

 
We had a comfort stop outside Angoulême as much to give the drivers a break as any real need for the facilities. It was still about a hundred and fifty kilometres to Bordeaux so the first tape having finished I rescued a couple more from my supply in the Hymer. There hadn’t been any complaints about my yodelling so once we got underway again I set the BlauHase tape going.

“That girl sounds just like you Gabs,” Kat suggested.

There was a stifled guffaw from the back.

“What?” Kat asked with a quick glance into the back.
“Road!” the rest of us chorused.
“What’s funny?” Kat posed.
“It sounds like Gab because it is,” Tal told her.
“Get off! Gab?”
“Um,” I managed.
“No way! you’re in a band?”
“Er, sort of,” I admitted.
“Aye she is,” Josh added, “she sang at that festival thing the other week.”
“Mosel Fest,” Tal filled in.
“You’re kidding?” Kat suggested.
“Straight up like, we were there with her boyfriend,” Josh excavated my hole a bit deeper.
“Gab?”
“Uh huh,” I agreed.
“How cool is that? You aren’t just a pretty face Bond.”
“So I’m told,” I mumbled under my breath.
“What?”
“Nothing.”

 
We stopped for lunch just before Bordeaux overlooking the Dordogne river for which I was quite grateful. It wasn’t so much hunger but after being outed to Kat as Erdbeere, singer with rock / grunge band BlauHase I then had to recount the whole story. Well I missed out getting drugged and the sleeping arrangements in Bonn but she wanted to know everything.

Back on the road we joined the busy A63 which will take us to the Spanish border a further two hundred or so kilometres away. No sooner had we cleared Bordeaux than we entered the Foret Hezer, part of the almost flat, tree covered area that stretches almost as far as Bayonne. I was bored after the first few kilometres and by the quiet behind me, so were the others, Kat was tapping along to the BlauHase tape again so I got comfortable and settled down for a nap.

 
I was woken by someone shaking me, “the sea Gab!”
“Hmmm?” I cracked an eye as I turned to look out of the window, ”where’re we?”
“Just past Biarritz,” Kat advised.

And there it was, sun glinting off the waves, the Atlantic Ocean, well that bit that makes up the Bay of Biscay at least. We sort of tracked the coast for a few kilometres before we turned away from the coast and started climbing away from the coastal margins. With more interesting terrain I was taking more er, interest and then we dropped around a sweeping bend and as quick as that we were in Spain.

I hadn’t really given it any thought but of course San Sebastian is only just in Spain, within ten kilometres we were following signs into the city. Of course, we aren’t staying in the city, far too expensive, no we’re camping, not literally, in some place called Lezo. We pulled into a lay-by for a few minutes to let the others catch up and, well, let Dad pilot the way to our accomodation.

 
Last year, down in Italy, the hotel was, how can I put it, rustic. The Villa Lezo Atlantico is certainly not rustic on any level, not a resort hotel but certainly a modern, angular building. Our convoy came to a halt on the small forecourt area and we all poured out into the mid afternoon heat.

“Not bad,” Daz opined.
“Better than last night,” Claire suggested.
“Can’t argue with that,” Josh agreed.

Dad, Angela and Caro had already gone inside and the rest of us wandered in the same general direction as much to escape the sun as anything. Inside, the place was more ‘lived in’, not dirty or anything but worn.

 
“Okay people,” Dad started, “Angela has your room keys, take your bags up, get settled in, if you can be down in the restaurant for,” he checked his timepiece, “shall we say five?”

I checked my own watch, ten past three, loadsa time.

There being no dissent Dad went on, “okay five it is, Josh, Jamie, can you give me and Darren a hand with the bikes?”

 
The rooms aren’t huge but there is a balcony and me and Mand are on the top floor so we can just see the actual sea out over San Sebastian itself.

“Well I’m having a shower,” Mand announced.
“Don’t use all the cold water,” I called after her.

 
Maddy Bell © 22.03.2018

 

 
“What on earth are you doing?” de Vreen enquired when she finally emerged from the bathroom.
“My legs, what’s it look like?”

Well look, I was bored, unpacking was minimal, Max hasn’t answered my text and she was taking forever showering.

“It looks like you’re sandpapering them.”

I looked at the pad in my hand and considered her statement.

“Guess I am,” I agreed.
“So how’s that work then?”
“it just sort of rubs the hair away?” I suggested.
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Only if you rub too hard.”
“Think I’ll stick to razors,” I was informed.
“So you done in there?”
“Yeah, its all yours.”

I finished my ‘sand papering’, it doesn’t just remove the hair but does a reasonable job of exfoliation too, however you do need to wash off the debris, cue the shower!

 
From having bags of time by the time I was finished in the bathroom it was already nearly half four. Dad hadn’t given us a dress code so I went with one of my sun dresses, passable for dinner but comfortable enough to hang out in too. Mand decided at the last minute to lose her vest and shorts in favour of more genteel accoutrements so I went on ahead.

“Going somewhere?” Kat suggested as we waited for the lift, she’s sharing with Angela in a room a couple of doors down from me and Mand.
I shrugged, “dunno yet do I?”
“So what do you think of the rooms?”
“Bit pokey but I’ve stayed in worse.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I thought the seniors stayed in five star splendour?”
“Yeah, right, I think George would have us in a tent if he could.”

I gave a little chuckle, our mutual Obermeister is famed for his almost ‘Yorkshireman’ like tightness. The lift gave a ding to announce its arrival.

“Hold on, wait for me!” Mand yelled as she pounded along the corridor towards us.

 
Downstairs a certain amount of clamour acted as a beacon in finding the dining room, part of which was segregated by a couple of those moveable screen things. We weren’t the last to arrive but I’m guessing Dad and Caro had been somewhere not far away, they arrived bearing coffee cups, the swines.

“Settle down please,” Caro requested, “yes Darren?”
“Any chance we can get drinks?”
“Already sorted,” she replied.

As if waiting for the cue one of the hotel staff wheeled in a trolley laden with a couple of pitchers of ‘cold’ cordial and a jug flask which by the cups I’m guessing contained coffee. We have got some discipline despite being teenagers so we did wait to be invited before descending on the beverages.

“Okay, now that's sorted, if you can all move a bit closer in, we don’t want to be shouting across the restaurant,” Caroline instructed, “Dave?”

Dad stood and moved to where one of those flip chart things stood, “thanks Caroline, well folks, we’re here despite the respective federations and I propose that we do our best to show them the errors of their ways,” he paused and looked out over us, his acolytes.

“We have a lot going for us, for you, you’ve all been riding, living together in most cases, for several months, you all know each others strengths and weaknesses. In the morning we’ll have our numbers bolstered by a young Spanish lad, Mikel Lamba, I hope you’ll welcome him to the fold, the next couple of days will hopefully see him meshing with the rest of you.

We are on a fairly tight budget, George is a bit miffed with BC to be honest but he’s determined to keep to the Apollinaris side of the arrangement, hence we do have young Kat here as masseuse and of course the use of the senior teams car. Its not ideal but with Angela helping out and of course I’ll be helping Darren where possible we should get through.”

He paused for a quick wet from his cup.

“Now come the race on Wednesday you’ll be split into the two squads and in the race the organisers are very keen that you ride as two squads not one super squad so bear that in mind.”

Sal waved an arm, “does that mean we have to attack Mand and that?”
“Caro?” Dad suggested, “you want this?”
“Sure Dave, well officially yes Sal and of course vis a vis, unofficially though, provided its not too blatant that you’re working together we will have a single overall game plan. For the race Dave will be DS for Apollinaris, me for BC but we’ll be singing to the same tune, hopefully podiums each day but most importantly the overall. There are separate classifications for lads and lasses, the organisers would’ve preferred single sex squads which we considered but by having you mixed up we think we get an edge over the opposition. Questions?”
“So who are we riding for?” Jamie queried.
“We haven’t decided for certain Jame, i’m sure you’ll all have some thoughts on that, we’ll make that decision day by day okay? Anyone else?” no one apparently had anything else so she went on, “Dave?”
“Thanks Caro, just before we move on, whoever is nominated ‘leader’ each day will be on merit, not on history, as far as we are concerned you are all in the pot.”

In other words Gaby, don’t assume you’re in the driving seat.

“Okay, so tomorrow and Tuesday. you’ve already done the heavy training – and travelling so the programme is quite light.”

He flipped the pad over revealing a time table affair.

“So, breakfast from seven, its a buffet but sensible please. Dressed and ready to ride out front for nine thirty – we’ll be riding from here tomorrow. When we get back there will be a light lunch and Kat and Angela will have a massage schedule for you.”
“Smooth legs please,” Kat opined.
“You heard the lady,” Dad agreed, “time’s your own then until dinner at seven here in the hotel, again its a buffet, the hotel assure me they are used to cyclists so there should be plenty to eat. Tuesday will be much the same except after lunch we’ll be moving over to Pamplona.”
“What about dinner tonight Mr B?” Josh queried.
“Here in the hotel Josh.”
“Do we have to dress up?” Gret put in.
“Not here but tidy at least, we might want to come back! There is a presentation in Pamplona Tuesday evening but we’re not expecting you in dresses and heels on race days.”
“Good job, I left mine at Neuewied,” Geth quipped.
“Geth!” Claire complained as we descended into laughter.
“Can we go to the beach or into San Seb?” Tal asked as things calmed back down.
“Anyone else want to do that?” Caro enquired.
“Wouldn’t mind,” Mand allowed.
“We’ll see if we can sort something then. Any more questions?”
“When do we eat?”

There were a few snickers at my query.

“You were all thinking it,” I suggested.
“From seven Gab.”
“Ooo, ten minutes ago!”

Yep, somehow our little team briefing had run for over an hour and a half, didn’t seem like that long to be honest but stomachs were now rumbling.

 
“Glad I changed,” Mand commented as we queued with other hotel guests for our turn at the buffet.

It might be Spain and hot but looking around, here at the Villa Lezo Atlantico there was a sort of casual dress code. No naked torsos, no swim shorts or bikinis in the restaurant and a certain amount of dressing up seemed par for the course. The team dresses would’ve been overboard but my sundress fitted in fine – not that I was comparing myself of course.

I shuffled along and took a plate – but what to have? For the hotel, buffets are a ‘get out of jail free’ card, table service reduced to drinks, the dishes can be prepared in advance and generally waste is reduced. Me? Well I can take them or leave them, you do get the chance to try different stuff but sometimes you just want a straightforward meal.

 
As you might guess from our location the offering this evening was big on sea food, but not to the exclusion of the non aquatic elements. I added paella and some sort of chorizo risotto thing to the smoked fish and salad stuff on my plate and returned to the table Jamie and Geth were already eating at.

“Off your food Gab?” Geth asked.
“You can go up more than once,” I told him with a glare at his heaped plate.
“Oh cool!”

Boys!

“Not you too Mand?”
“Me too what?” she asked carefully placing not one but two loaded plates onto the table, “you not hungry then?”

 
There’s not exactly a lot going on in Lezo unless you are going to hang out in a bar, its therefore not a surprise that many of the guests spent a good chunk of the evening at the buffet – not eating as much as socialising and enjoying the breeze blowing across the restaurant verandah. Of course someone, well Gret, started a card school and given my lack of ability I decided to go up and catch up on my sleep.

“You going up kiddo?” Dad asked seeing me heading off.

The adults including Kat were relaxing over a bottle of something alcoholic.

“Yeah, bit tired.”
“Okay, see you in the morning luv.”
“Uh huh, nite everyone.”
“Nite Gab,”
“Night.”
“Abend.”

 
To be honest it was a bit early to go to bed, I switched the idiot box on for a bit of noise – there was some sort of game show on - not that I could follow the format. I dug out my Handy to check for a message, any sort of message to divert me from boredom.

“You watching this Gab?”
I forced an eyelid open, “hmm?”
“I said, are you watching the telly?”
“Not really, wossa time?”
“Half ten, your Dad kicked us upstairs.”
“Should get some sleep.”
“I slept most of the way down, there nothing else on here?”
“Dunno, here,” I lobbed the TV remote over to her divan.
“Cheers, didn’t see you come up.”
“I’m crap at cards.”
“At least there’s something we can beat you at.”
“No good at dressmaking either.”
“Nor me,” she mentioned as she flicked through the TV channels, “God there’s some dross on here, come back RTL, all is forgiven!”
“You could just turn it off,” I suggested.

 
My phone trilled to announce a text arrival, I flicked it up, now you reply von flippin’ Strechau, half past eleven! I didn’t bother reading it, he can wait. So of course then I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I did read it and replied and waited for a reply and…

I woke with a start, unsure of where I was but with a raging thirst. I got up and crept past my roomie to get some water to slake my thirst – the hotel insist its safe to drink from the tap. I needn’t’ve worried, Mand was still sawing away, lost to the world when I returned to my bed.

Apparently it was a little after two but it was still warm enough to remain on top of the bed rather than in it. Of course that did little to help me return to the Land of Nod, hopefully I’ll get used to it being so warm. For the third time I slipped beyond consciousness, one second I was staring at shadows on the ceiling the next I wasn’t.

 
Maddy Bell © 23.03.2018

 

 
Everyone took the hint of having breakfast early and we were pretty much all at the stage of a second or third cup of coffee when Dad came in towing in his wake a youth that I’m guessing is our ringer, Mikel Lamba.

“Good, you’re all here,” he started, “I’ll let you all introduce yourselves, this is Mikel who’ll be riding with us this week. He does speak some English and I don’t want to hear German used to exclude him, for this week he and his father are part of BC – Schauff. I’ll leave you to get acquainted, remember, ready to ride out front at nine thirty sharp please.”

Dad departed leaving Senõr Mikel Lamba standing slightly awkwardly in front of us.

“Hows you doing man, Josh Waugh,” the Tynesider opened the batting offering a hand, “big lad over there’s Jamie, Sal, Lor, Geth, Mand, Claire,” he pointed at each of us in turn, “Daz, Gret, Tali and the squirt on the end is...”
“Not amused,” I interrupted, I offered Mikel my hand, “Gaby Bond.”
“I have heard of the famous Senõrita Bond of course, nice to meet you all.”
“You want coffee,” Daz offered.
“Si, that would be good,” he agreed pulling a vacant chair over to our ‘nest’.
 

I suppose you want the low down on Senõr Lamba, well he’s seventeen, no girlfriend (much to Claire’s delight!), he comes from Sevilla which is down south somewhere and came in seventh at the Spanish champs the other week. He learnt his English on a summer school thing in Sheffield last year. Apparently someone in the Spanish federation put his name forward when Dad asked if they could recommend someone to fill Cav’s spot.

“Sugar,” Mand cussed, “we need to get changed.”
“Bum,” I agreed checking my own timepiece.
“You got somewhere to change man?” Josh enquired of Mikel.
“With my father I think.”
 

The forecourt of the hotel was at least in the shade this morning as Darren, Dad and a small olive skinned chap I presume is Mikel’s father handed out our bikes. No time trial bikes this week and not a huge amount of spares either, a couple of which were already installed atop the BMW along with a few spare wheels. Once everyone had computers installed, tyres checked and were stocked with bidons and snacks, Dad called for our attention.

“Okay folks, steady ride piano today, I’m reliably informed by the hotel that once we clear the coast the roads are fairly quiet but Caro will go with Olivier here,” he indicated Mikel’s father, “in his car in front, Angela will be with me in the BMW and Darren and Kat will meet us about midway at Santestaban where we’ll have a short comfort break. Josh your in charge okay?”
“Er sure Boss man.”
“Questions?”
“How far Herr Bond?” Tal enquired.
“Should be about one twenty, back here about one for lunch, that it, okay lets get moving, and remember to drink plenty.”

And so we set off, a cacophony of cleats being engaged, brakes inadvertently being applied and good natured bickering. The Lamba’s car is a white Seat Alhambra people carrier, a VW Sharan in all but badges, certainly easy enough to spot amongst the plethora of small Euroboxes the Spanish seem to favour in these parts. Last year, in Italy, the UK based riders spent the first couple of days getting their heads around riding on the right, at least this time everyones comfortable with that element, instead, apart from Mikel, we were learning the Spanish signs and particularly junction priorities.
 

It was only about three K out to the motorway we arrived on then another couple out through the vowel laden village of Oiartzun where we departed civilisation and started the steady climb of the Añakadi Bidea. With a dozen of us riding in pairs there was ample time at the back to recover, Josh calling the changes so no one did too much on the front. The road was soon twisting about as we climbed, not steeply but constantly and the traffic was indeed quite light.

We might be going uphill but we were maintaining a steady twenty five kph without putting anyone in trouble. How things have changed from last year, I guess everyone’s matured, got stronger but also gained confidence, especially the BC girls. The first sign of a crack was when the road reared through a couple of hairpins and continued above at a higher percentage.

“Easy Bond,” Josh requested.

I looked behind to find the previously tidy group looking somewhat dishevelled. With an inward sigh I raised a finger in acknowledgement and slipped down an extra sprocket. Which is how I ended up swapping Gret as riding partner for Mikel.

“You would like to be gone,” he stated rather than asked in English better than I use these days.
“Yeah well, just because I can doesn’t mean I should.”
“True enough,” he agreed.
“You said earlier you’d heard of me?”
“The papers, how you say, magazine of cycling, they report the races all about not just Espana and the daughter of Jenny Bond gets extra mention when she beats the men.”
“Not always,” I told him.
“But many times I think.”
“I guess,” I agreed reaching for my already well depleted bidon.
“Plus I did research when I was offered this chance,” he grinned with a quirk of unruly black eyebrow.
“So you aren’t in a race team?”
“They are not so many in Espana and in Sevilla only one for the senior riders. So I ride for my club, see?” he stretched his jersey out so I could see the lettering across his chest.
“I guess there aren’t so many at home either,” I observed.
“In England?”
“Germany, I’m officially German now, hence the jersey,” I hinted.
“But you are English yes?”
“It’s complicated, I was born there but we’ve been in Germany for a while and then there were issues with BC, long story short, it just made sense to become a citizen.”
“You will go back?”
“To visit yes but I guess Germany is home now so I can’t see me leaving anytime soon. What about you?”
“After college I like to travel I think, maybe if I can get a contract with a how you say, develop team to race, I’d like that.”

I used to think that would be me, finish school then go to France or Belgium to ‘learn’ the trade before moving up into the pro ranks, travel the world racing bikes. As Drew that’s all I ever thought about but now, the Gaby me, well its a different path and I’m not even sure its what I want to do with my life. No, my dreams of fame were irrevocably killed off by one tiny letter replacing another.
 

Josh called another change before we reached the pair of hairpins that raised us up into the trees and the small plateau that marks the top of the climb from the coast. The respite was short lived as we quickly started the descent and a pell mell descent through the turns down to the Rio Bidasoa. The discipline of the climbing was long gone by the time we reached Lesaka as everyone seemed to want to be first to the bottom.

At the river we turned right to follow both it and a newish road taking traffic inland, not that it was hugely busy but we weren’t the only ones glad of the loops of old road which we had to use to avoid the tunnels. Josh was back in control and Mikel and I continued talking as we climbed up the valley to Santesteban.

Santesteban isn’t a big place, the architecture almost alpine in styling, well I guess it is a bit hilly round here. The likeness to alpine terrain isn’t reduced by the mixture of forest and green meadows, a far cry from the torrid heat and desert of the central plain. Yes its quite hot today but less so away from the coast and they must’ve had rain overnight as there were some sizeable puddles on the way up the valley.

We rode through the town, across the Rio Ezkurra and easily spotted Kat and Darren parked in a supermarket car park on the edge of the town. My computer was claiming fifty K, Dad’s either over estimated our ride or we’ve got a longer part two. On the other hand we’d only been riding for about an hour and forty so if the rest goes as well we’ll be back pretty much as predicted.

Several of us made use of the supermarket’s toilet facilities, I grabbed a bag of Gummi bears for later. Angela had clearly been busy earlier as she produced a couple of plates of sliced bread sandwiches which were consumed in moments. Bottles were refilled, sun screen reapplied, Kat attended to a couple of minor injury niggles and in less than thirty minutes, well twenty actually we were on our way again.
 

According to the sign it’s twenty seven kilometres to the Calle de Carreterra, the top of this climb. We settled back into a kilometre swallowing cadence however heading both south and the time approaching high noon meant it was getting pretty warm. Zips were undone, sleeves pushed up and glasses removed, none of that made a great deal of difference and a couple of steeper ramps didn’t help.

I reckon there were about seven kilometres to the summit when the gradient really started to get more serious, not silly or even ten percent but an energy sapping six or seven. The road was quite narrow in places as it bobbled upwards, we had to single out to squeeze past a beer truck at one point. Then finally we were there, a few buildings gathered around the summit made up Ezkurra and then we were thankfully going downhill.

This side was much twistier and much like the earlier descent it quickly became a fairly serious business of getting down quickly. Dad had warned us we would be turning off at some point down the hill but even so it was a bit of a surprise when we reached it. There were some smoking brakes is all I’ll say.
 

Well I turned round and rejoined the others just ahead of the BMW, okay I overshot, satisfied? Not that I or anyone else got much respite, the road up to Calle Mayor started steep and continued much the same after it entered the forest. Well at least we were out of the sun for a bit.

Anyway any semblance of order was gone, it was everyone for themselves as the road darted back and forth but always upwards. We were soon spread out over several hundred metres, having started at the back I used the less able climbers as targets as I ground my way up the lane. When we broke out of the trees just shy of the summit only Mikel, Josh and Mand were still ahead of me but not by much.

What goes up must come down – well sometimes, anyhow no one seemed in too much of a rush this time and those in front pretty much freewheeled down through the village named for the summit. It’s less steep this side which allowed a regrouping before we started the descent of the Rio Urumea gorge. The road followed the river quite closely then without warning we made a turn and were met by a steep ramp which took us high above the wooded slopes of the gorge.

My legs were well fatigued by now, they felt like rubber as I tried to power up the incline. It was a losing battle, one that only Josh seemed to be winning, but thankfully going up was only temporary, after a fairly tight bend things slackened off and once again we reassembled. It was less than two K by my computer before the shallow roller coaster slipped into a hairpinned descent back to the river below.

Things were much calmer now and our road captain managed to reassemble some sort of order as we started a dozen more easy kilometres of chasing the Urumea towards the sea. It was certainly getting warmer, but with a less humid heat then, as suddenly as we’d left it this morning, we were back almost in sight of the Atlantic. The noise of traffic came as a bit of a surprise and hung around us as we went over, under and around the Madrid bound motorway on our way back into Lezo.
 

Of course the back room staff were already returned and true to instruction Kat had a list of appointments taped to the side of the van.

“Where’re we doing this?” Mand enquired.
“Think she’s setting up around the back,” Darren suggested taking her steed from her.
“Al fresco eh?” Daz suggested.
“I am not stripping off in public!”
“Don’t be such a drama queen Gab,” Tal told me, “I quite fancy getting all naked in the sunshine.”
“Until you get burn’t in places you really don’t want burnt,” Lor chimed in.
“Don’t worry ladies,” Angela stated, “no one will see you, she has borrowed the screens and the big sun shade.”
“Hmm,” I grunted.
“Oh live a bit Bond,” Gret chided.
 

Kat had gone strictly alphabetical and guess what, Bond trumps the rest so after the quickest of showers I made my way down to Kat’s spacious temporary massage parlour.

“You sure no one can see in?”
“Unless they’ve got x-ray eyes.”
“So why are we doing it out here again?”
She started ticking off on her fingers, “number one, its cooler than inside, number two, its cooler than inside and number three...”
“Its cooler than inside,” I finished, “okay I get it.”
“Right then, strip Miss Bond!”
 

Maddy Bell © 24.03.2018

 

 
“Right folks,” Caro addressed us, “back here at seven sharp.”
“Seven,” Mand whined, “but its nearly five now.”
“All the more reason to hop it now, unless you guys don’t want to eat tonight?”
“We’ll be here,” I replied with a resigned sigh before climbing down from the BC bus.

I suppose we’re lucky that Caro has brought us at all, the us being essentially a hen party minus Sal but plus Josh. Well I’m pretty sure Josh and Tal will do a disappearing act as soon as Caro leaves and Sal was engrossed in playing GTA with the lads so stayed behind anyway. I guess exploring the delights of San Sebastian rank lower than causing pixelated mayhem in Lezo.

We watched our ‘taxi’ depart before taking in our location.

“What now?” Gret asked.
“Well thanks to someone,” Lor stared at de Vreen, “all the shops’ll be shutting.”
“Don’t they stay open longer coz of their siesta?” Tal proposed.
“No idea,” I admitted, “look we can go along the shops, if its all shut we can get a coffee and have a paddle.”
“Sounds like a plan like,” Josh agreed.

 

Of course the reason for our lateness in making the short journey into the city is less than simple, on the other hand to blame Mand entirely for it is a bit mean. You remember Kat was doing our post ride massage in alphabetical order and that I was first in the queue? Well Mand is last to go, something she decided to argue this afternoon.

The ensuing fuss just delayed everything and she was still last to pass under Kat’s restorative digits. End result, we lost an hour and lets just say Mand has made no friends and sorely tested a few tempers.

 

Well Tali’s theory sort of held up, but it was a mixed bag, some stores were open and others preparing to close quite soon. We looked in a couple of shops but like H&M is, well H&M and most of the stores belonged to chains we have at home with much the same stuff inside. Okay, I guess there’s a bias towards beach wear here but its not like we’re gonna be laying out on the beach all week is it?

“Well I want an ice cream,” Claire told us as we emerged from another generic store.
“There was a gelaterie just back up there,” I observed.
“Ah could make short work of a sundae like,” Josh mentioned.
“What about dinner?” Tal posed.
“What about it hen?”
“Give up Tal,” Lor suggested, “he’s just a dustbin.”

There was no arguing that, once you’ve seen Waugh eat you’ll say I’m dainty. Well we started walking back along the pedestrian zone towards the flavoured frozen milk outlet. After a few metres I realised we were short a body.

“What you doing Mand?” I enquired as I waited for her to catch up.
“Just checking my money.”
“You got enough? I can lend you some?” I offered. Daft moo or not she’s still my friend and sort of adopted sister.
She closed her purse, “er yeah, plenty, you think I should buy for everyone?”
“Because of your hissy earlier?”
“No because I’m feeling flush, of course because of earlier dumbo,” she shot back.
“Okay, okay, it probably would smooth things a bit.”
“Come on you two!” Claire encouraged from ahead of us.

 

We were soon installed around a couple of tables with our various frozen delights, it was a positive pleasure to just chill in the evening sun, no timetable, no agenda. Oh the lovebirds were cosying up but this was the relaxation we all needed after all the travel and a long, hot ride today. True to form I ended up with some exotic concoction with strawberries, choccy sauce and a liberal sprinkling of Pistachios – just what Gaby ordered.

“Six thirty guys,” Gret observed.
“We haven’t even been to the beach,” Claire mentioned,
“And?” Lor queried.
“Just saying.”
“We can have a quick look on the way to the bus,” I suggested.
“Sounds good,” Tal agreed.
“I need a wee,” Mand told us, “be right back.”
“What about paying?” Lor enquired as she dug out her wallet.
I’d been watching Mand and as I thought the toilet visit was just a ploy, she was exchanging euros at the till inside.
“Think its sorted.”
“Eh, well I’ve not paid,” Lor replied.
“Me either,” Claire added.
“Look, don’t make a fuss right, Mand’s paying for everyone, you know to make up for earlier.”
“What for like?” Josh queried.
Tal lightly slapped her beau, “because it makes her feel better silly.”
“Whatever,” Gret shrugged putting her own money back in a pocket.

 

“We ready then?” Mand asked returning a couple of minutes later.

It was tempting to say ‘just waiting for you’ but that would’ve been a bit tactless even for me.

“Lets see this sand then,” Lor enthused.

We made our way back through the apartment blocks to where Caro dropped us before crossing a small patch of typical seaside park to the waterfront beyond.

 

“That it?” Gret asked.
“Not exactly impressive like,” Josh intoned.
“Oh come on guys, blue sky, yellow sand, what more do you want?”

To be honest I wasn’t exactly impressed myself, the beach, the thin strip of sand stretched off into the distance without so much as a deck chair in sight and nary a beach goer either. Out in the bay a few small boats bobbed about but there wasn’t a lot of character to it.

“Photos?” Mand suggested.
“Just to prove we were here,” Claire agreed.

And so we mugged our way through a few shots.

“We should make it look like we were on the beach,” Lor suggested.
“And how do we do that like hen?” Josh asked.
“Girls?” I queried.
“On three,” Tali grinned back, “three!”

In moments all six of us laydeez had our tops off revealing an assortment of swimming cozzies.

“Come on Josh,” I encouraged, “shirt off, lets see those muscles.”
“Youse guys had this planned?” Josh mentioned pulling his own T over his head.
“Not exactly,” Gret told him, “we had been planning on spending some time on the beach.”
“What’re you up to Gab?” Lor asked.
“Losing my shorts, it won’t look that authentic otherwise,” I advised finishing my strip to my white bikini.
“Whatever,” Mand sighed slipping her skirt off her hips.
“Ah’ve nay got ma swimmies on like,” Josh complained.
“You running commando?” Claire posed with a smirk.
“For me to know hen.”
“Come on,” Lor encouraged, “or Caroline’ll be here.”

 

“Been on the beach?” our taxi driver enquired as we loaded up a few minutes later, we’d been at the rendezvous on time, it was Caro who was late.

In actual fact it was unintentional that we were still largely exposed in assorted bikinis and swimsuits, being a bit short on time we’d just grabbed our stuff and run across to the pick up point.

“Er yeah, just topping up the tans,” I replied.
“Hope you put on plenty of sunscreen, don’t want burnt bodies eh?”
“Er no,” Lor giggled.
“Best get a bit more on before we get back, you know what lads are like.”

Sometimes my Godmother can be such a spoilsport.

“What about Josh?” I asked.
“Maybe his own shirt would be better.”
“What?” Josh asked in a panic checking what he was wearing, “shite, ah thought it was a bit tight like, gis a hand Tal.”

The rest of us just started a gigglefest as he peeled off his girlfriend’s shirt, the one with ‘Papa’s Princess’ across the chest in pink glitter – I guess it is the same colour as his.

 

We were out on the verandah for dinner, another sort of buffet affair, I think technically in Spain they call it Tapas, instead of big communal dishes of food its all on individual plates.

“Sort of like in Japan eh Gabs?” Mand proposed.
“They eat paella in Japan?” Sal asked.
“Possibly,” I agreed, “you mean the Sushi Mand?”
“Yeah, all those little dishes going round.”
“Sounds a bit fussy to me,” Daz told us.
“Think its so you only have what you want, you can try all different stuff,” I advised.
“Well ah want to try some more of that black rice stuff like,” Josh told us.
“Arròs Negre,” Mikel advised.
“So what’s in it?” Gret asked our temporary Spanish team mate.
“Isa the squids, the tiny langoustine, vegetables.”
“So how come its black, doesn’t look like its burnt,” Mand opined.
“Is the tinta.”
“Tinta?” I queried.
“You know, in the biro, from the squids?”
“Ink,” Jamie offered.
“Yes, ink,” Mikel agreed.
“Eurgh!” Sal mentioned with a bit of a face on her.
“Well it tastes alreet like, bit salty mind,” Josh stated.

All this foreign food is all very well, I just hope we don’t have to survive on this foreign food all week, I could really fancy some schnitzel about now! As usual there’s a sort of demarcation between riders and our ‘crew’, they may dictate what’s on the menu but its up to us to actually eat enough and not over indulge. It also makes it easier for them to keep control of the wine, a splash or two of red would go well with meatball things.

 

Its also traditional for Dad to give a bit of a pep talk after we’ve eaten and this evening was to be no different.

“Okay everyone, calm down a bit, this won’t take long,” he waited for us to shush before going on, “hopefully you’re all relaxed and rested now. We’ll be moving on to Pamplona tomorrow, bit of a change of plan, instead of a long ride up into the mountains we’ll do a couple of laps between here and Irun, its about thirty kilometres around, so something like an hour a lap, three laps, will just set us up for lunch. “

He paused before going on, “after lunch we’ll truck over to Pamplona, its about two hours or so I’m told, Kat will do legs there. There is a reception in the evening, and yes Gaby you do need to wear your team dresses, questions? Sal?”
“Will we be able to shower here before we travel?”
“Yes you will, but I’d like your bags down before lunch so we can get off sharp after eating, Gethyn?”
“Is there food at this reception thing?”
Caro interjected here, “there will no doubt be snacks and soft drinks, we’ll eat earlier, we’ll sort times out when we get to Pamplona. We’ll do laundry whilst you are out in the morning so if you need stuff doing bring it at breakfast please.”
“Thanks Caroline,” Dad picked back up, “so breakfast and ride same as today, no wild parties tonight eh?”

Chance would be a fine thing.

“We’ll be good Dad,” I proposed.
“That's what I’m afraid of,” he muttered.

 

Maddy Bell © 30.03.2018

 

 

“What’re you up to Gab?” Claire enquired.

We’d settled down in some comfy chairs after dinner, the entertainment options being the Xbox™ thingy or dire TV – just hanging out was about the only other option.

“Just sending an SMS.”
“She’ll be on with Maxxie,” Mand crowed.
“Am not.”
“money on it, lets see?”
“No, its not to Max, I’m just telling Con about San Seb.”

I wasn’t fibbing, this message is to Con, the last one however was to Max but I’m not going to admit that am I?

“Not much to tell,” Gret opined.
“What were you expecting then?” Geth queried.
“A bit more than nothing.”
“Blackpool it isn’t,” Laura put in.
I pressed ‘send’ and returned my attention to the conversation, “so Mikel, you got a girlfriend?” not that it bothers me but its conversation right?
“Girlfriend?”
“Someone special,” Laura hinted.
“I have many friends, they are all special,” Mikel told us.
“I reckon you’ve got some admirers Mik,” Daz chuckled.
“Maybe,” the Spaniard agreed.
“You stirrer Darren Fox,” Sal accused.
“Just saying what I see.”
“I can see someone getting a thump man,” Josh mentioned.
“So do we stay in the same hotel all the race?” Claire posed.
“Dunno,” I admitted.
“It better not be some dingy B&B,” Geth stated.
“That would be like the pits,” Josh agreed.
“Well I’m going to bed,” I offered as I extricated myself from the soft upholstery.
“Its only half nine,” Tal pointed out.
“Some of us need our beauty sleep,” I suggested.
“Not you Gabs, you’ve had enough,” Lor giggled.
“Huh, well even celestial beauty needs a top up.”

 

I slept like the proverbial log, maybe it was the ride, maybe the heat but whatever I didn’t hear Mand come back and next thing its morning, my alarm jiggling away by my head.

“Urgh! It can’t be that time,” Mand complained.
I double checked with my watch, “’fraid so, up and at em!”
“Twirly,” she muttered pulling a pillow over her head.

Well at least I get first dibs on the bathroom.

 

“Er where do you want the laundry Angela?”
“Just in the basket Gab,” she replied without turning from filling bidons.
“’kay,” I dropped the bag of stuff into the laundry basket.
“You might as well take these,” she told me now turning around.
“Er sure.”
“How much?” she exclaimed seeing my laundry.
“Too much?”
“No you’re alright, I just wasn’t expecting half your suitcase.”
“Sorry, its this heat, you know, makes everything icky.”
“Yeah I know, get on before I change my mind.”
“Thanks Angela!”

I did feel a little guilty at dumping my washing on someone else, we each do our own at home but this isn’t home and the facilities for laundry are limited. So instead of rinsing stuff out in the bathroom and hoping it dries the chance for a proper wash is too good to pass up. In theory I shan’t need to worry about washing stuff for the rest of the trip either as I’ll have three days extra clean stuff – a win, win.

 

“Okay guys, settle down,” Dad started, “two groups today, Apollinaris and BC, my lot you get an extra ten minutes, so the rest of you follow Senor Lamba out of town see you later.”

The Schauff sponsored lot set off and Dad turned to address the rest of us.

“Right guys and gals, this isn’t a race, I don’t want you catching the others, we will do some race exercises but we’ll start with a steady few kilometres to warn up eh.”
“We’re already warm like Mr B,” Josh suggested.
“Thank you for that insight Mr Waugh, right, once we’ve cleared Lezo I’ll drop behind, Josh, road captain. Okay lets get organised.”

 

We set off a couple of minutes later following the BMW through streets already several hours into their daily baking. A little out of town Dad pulled over and we took the lead as the road tilted upwards towards some woodland high above us. Climbing from the start of a ride is never fun and stuff you should sail up becomes a veritable Everest both mentally and physically.

As such it was no surprise that I was soon surrounded by panting, heaving bodies dragging themselves up the fairly benign gradient. Not that I was doing any better of course, I’m not Super Girl or anything and maybe that extra yoghurt wasn’t such a bright idea, a sour taste hovering in my throat. Up into the trees and their welcome shade and the road got steeper, aargh!

The computer suggested we may as well walk, well not quite but it wasn’t showing much above ten kph and that was before we reached the first hairpin. By now we were of course spread out somewhat, we might not be giving it any but we still have different climbing abilities. We twisted further through the woodland, looking off to the right, well down, our upward route peeked through the trees but not for long before another, flatter hairpin set us back in the other direction.

Thankfully the gradient started to ease and I for one started to get my second breath allowing me to start tapping out a smoother, faster cadence. Then, after another little kick around a bend, ahead of us, the end of the trees was heralded by a stupidly bright lump of light. I checked for the others and eased back a bit to allow everyone to come back together, Josh and Daz were bringing up the rear maybe fifty metres back just ahead of Dad and Darren in the Beemer.

Back together we left the forest, replacing trees for rocky scrub, the road still climbing ahead of us with no clear summit apparent.

“Okay folks, ten second sprints from the back,” Dad called out.

Oh joy. Its a simple enough exercise but harder than you might think, in essence, starting at the back of the group you go hell for leather for ten seconds then sit up to rejoin the bunch at the front. You might recognise the tactic as something I’ve done a time or two but there’s no harm in brushing up the ol’ skills.

With Josh as Road Captain calling us out we went through five reps which took us across several kilometres of rolling scrubland. Our leader was called back to the car for more instruction as we rolled along, catching occasional glimpses of the Océano Atlántico to our left and ahead. Josh was no sooner back with us before we started to descend more solidly, a fast, open descent with some steep ramps notching the speed up towards the fifty kph mark.

The first hairpin had us scrubbing a lot of that speed off, someone managed to lock their back wheel, the unmistakable sound of sliding on gravel was happily not followed by more than “shi-it!” being uttered. A couple more tight corners and then a straight heading steeply towards a village.

“Which way?” I shouted back as a roundabout came into view.
“Right,” Josh called back.

This time it was my turn to nearly lose it as I carried a bit too much speed into the turn. Yeah I know, but I get a bit carried away sometimes, a bit too pumped, anyhow I slowed enough to bunny hop across the small island on the exit much to the bemusement of the postman on his moped I almost ran into. Definitely one of those heart stopping moments, by the time I’d recovered myself the others were past and I had to sprint to get onto the back.

We skirted the village, the road still heading downhill through another island after which we came up behind a truck pulling out of a factory unit. Ahead of us was, I guess, San Seb airport and beyond it a body of water and what I’d guess is France. There wasn’t a lot of traffic but enough to keep our speed in check until we picked up the wider, faster road towards San Sebastián.

We started a rotation and picked the speed up along the well surfaced road, a chance however to hit the pocket food and bidons. There were only a few kilometres on the fast road before a sign for Lezo directed us onto a quieter road. it climbed steadily towards our base through Sagasti before a short drop back into Lezo where we turned up to go past the hotel.

 

Of course this time we knew where we were going and what lay ahead of us, not only that but we were fully warmed up which contributed to a higher speed into the climb.

“Keep it steady Gab,” Josh instructed as I settled into my climbing head.

I raised a hand in acknowledgement and resisted the temptation to attack the grades. I tapped out a steady cadence, hands on the tops, bum on the back of the saddle in a fairly low gear. Up into the trees, and after a quick out of saddle squiggle I found myself upping the speed very slightly, the benefit of the cooler, shaded road. Things seemed a bit quiet behind, well apart from the Bimmer, so as I made the first hairpin I took a look behind to discover the others all in line astern.

Well okay, Daz and Gret were looking a bit ragged but they were still there with determined expressions glued to their faces. I returned my attention to where we were headed, this is pretty cool stuff, this is what being part of a team is all about. Okay, I’ll admit that I dropped a sprocket and upped the pace a tad after the next turn, not to drop anyone, well not intentionally, but just because.

 

Once we were clear of the trees there was a toot from behind and the Toon dropped back for instruction. Gret had been tailed off a bit but soon rejoined us as we eased right down over the top.

“Gab,” Josh called out, “back to the car.”

What now? I sat up and dropped back to the car.

“Wassup?”
“Nothing kiddo,” Dad replied, “nice controlled climb.”
“I coulda gone harder.”
“Here,” he passed me a musette, “elevenses, there’s a time for burning everyone off, next time around eh, on with you, send Darren back please.”
“Sure.”

And so over the next couple of kilometres everyone got a bag of snacks, you know the sort of stuff, jam sarnies, dried fruit, fig biscuits, some of it went in pockets, as much was eaten there and then. Musettes were exchanged for fresh bidons, no we don’t chuck the used bottles, we have to recycle ours, anyhow by the time we started what I now thought of as airport hill we were all somewhat refreshed. Knowing the road, well to some extent meant fewer dodgy moments and although tight, I made that first turn off hard on Josh’s wheel.

Dad had us taking long turns on the front along the main road, you see this when you watch the big races, what you don’t see is how smashed you are afterwards! Anyhow once on the Lezo road again there was another Direktor / Captain conversation, I guess to set up lap three’s activities. As we dropped into the town Josh moved to the front so we’d all hear him.

“Free for all on the climb this time, regroup over the top, flag down when we leave town.”
“Bum,” Gret sighed.
“First one up buys the ice cream,” Tal proposed, safe I think, that it wouldn’t be her.
“Whatever,” I agreed as we negotiated a now busier Lezo town centre.

 

I contemplated my tactics as I took a slug of electrolyte laden liquid, the others will expect me to just take off as soon as the flag drops but that seems a bit of a waste of my energy, nah, something else this time. And so as we left the habitation I did nothing, well I kept riding obs but I just stayed where I was and waited. The status quo remained until the first steeper ramp, Josh powering up, Mand soon tagging in behind him.

“Thought,” gasp, “you’d be,” gasp, “up there,” Daz got out as I rode alongside him.
“I’ve not got any change for the Eis,” I told him.
“Don’t believe her,” Tal suggested breathing more evenly, “she’s up to something.”
“I’m wounded Schmidt.”
“Known you too long girlfriend!”

The breakaway wasn’t that far ahead, twenty, thirty metres maybe but moving slowly away. This will be down to timing as much as anything, holding my nerve until the right moment and not panicking. We climbed steadily through the fields, the gap increasing on every extra bit of gradient and not decreasing on flatter bits.

Up above, the trees promised shade but here the sun was beating down incessantly, a trickle of sweat dripped between the girls, by the top it’ll be a veritable river! As we turned, the sun went to our backs and I slipped my glasses off and into my helmet before checking my gearing. With about ten metres before we were plunged into the shade I dropped back before accelerating into the gloom.
 

Maddy Bell © 31.03.2018

 

 

I say gloom, it wasn’t for me as my eyes quickly adjusted to the lower light levels but I was banking on the others either keeping their bins on or not removing them until we were in the trees. I darted to the left hand kerb and kept effort high easily dropping the threesome and closing a good lump of the gap to Mand and Josh. Of course, Josh ‘The Engine’ Waugh was giving it full gas, Mand doggedly sat on his wheel giving occasional glances behind.

I stayed well to the left and by the lack of reaction from Manda, I remained undetected. The plan wasn’t to just catch them, there’s actually a good chance they’d be able to thwart my onward movement. No, for now its getting close enough for the main event but not to reveal my presence too soon.

With a couple of left turns coming up I swapped kerbs to the duo’s blind side, none too soon as this time it was Josh who glanced behind, still be-glassed. By the penultimate turn before the first hairpin I was on station, ten metres back, hopefully just out of hearing range although I could easily hear their exhalations.

“Still can’t see her,” Mand mentioned.
“She’s got to be there somewhere like,” Josh puffed back.
“Somewhere,” Mand agreed.

 

I let myself drift left, as those in front lined up to take the flatter outside of the approaching corner. Even so its pretty steep but not as steep as where I was going, steady, steady, go Gab! I stomped on the pedals and instead of following the others I turned sharply in and headed for the inside of the turn. It was a calculated chance, it was silly steep of course, close on fifty percent I guess but not impossible given the handful of metres to cover.

“Sugar!”
“What the?”

I almost stalled which would’ve been embarrassing but I just forced it through and onto the much flatter roadway above the turn. Boy that was hard, I kept the revs high only chancing a smaller sprocket twenty metres further on. I took several deep breaths both to refill my lungs and slow the hammering of my ticker all the time keeping the pressure on.

At the next hairpin I took a gentler route around before accelerating up the straight out of the saddle. I reckon its about a kilometre to the top, still too far to relax but once I was sat again I took another swig from my bidon before wiping at the sweat running into my eyes. Not the best idea, salt in your eyes is never good, it took a few blinks and another more careful wipe to get back to seeing properly.

 

When I looked down from the last hairpin I wasn’t surprised to see Josh on his own below me but where is de Vreen? I glanced further behind him, nope, which means she’s ahead of the Toon, yep, she’s progressed a lot in the last year or so. Right, lets finish this, I dropped another sprocket and stood to get on top of the resulting gear, accelerating before reseating myself.

Mand must’ve been closer than I thought as there was a muttered curse followed by the sounds of a muffed gear change. I kept the gear going, what’s that up ahead? Looks like a car, one hasn’t passed us so I must be catching it. Well any carrot is still a carrot, I slipped back a gear to get the revs up and set off afresh.

 

It can’t be, nah, surely not. Well if its not its a mirage, I was closing the distance quickly towards the white Alhambra which, if I’m not mistaken, belongs to Senór Lamba. Closer, closer, ahead I could see the bobbing heads of at least two of the BC team, I know its a bit mean but gotta be done.

The end of the trees hove into view, beyond its about half a K to the nominal top, lets do this Bond. This calls for TT mode, I dropped onto the er, drops and concentrated on fast, quickly closing the remaining distance. I sprinted the last few metres up to car as we exited the trees then took a moment to compose myself before pulling out to pull alongside it.

“Hi guys!” I cheerfully greeted as I drew level with the drivers window.

If Olivier was surprised he hid it well but I’m sure he’d seen me in the mirror.

“Wondered how long it would be,” Caro opined leaning across the car.
“We weren’t chasing you guys.”
“I’m sure.”
“Have to go, Mand’s not far behind.”

I returned to my task, accelerating past the car and towards my friends. Whether by design or not the bobbing bodies belonged to Lor, Sal and Claire, further ahead the lads were apparently waiting for them. Not too harsh Gab.

“Heya!”
“Bond!” Lor puffed.
“Tough climb,” I suggested.
“For some of us,” Sal complained.
“Laters!”
“Cow.” Claire mumbled as I moved away.

 

I didn’t get to the lads before the top instead pulling up and slumping over the bars to get my breath back. The girls re-passed me and Olivier tooted as they passed, I managed a weak wave back. Mand wasn’t that far behind, I was pleased to see she was in worse condition than me, I’m not being mean but you know what I mean.

“Who?” Josh asked rolling up to us.

I weakly raised a hand.

“Nearly got her wheel,” Mand advised, “must’ve heard me.”
“Damn,” Josh allowed.
“Ut uh, couldn’t see you with J, guessed you were between,” I told them.
“Bum,” Mand sighed.
“Come on, the others are coming,” Josh prompted.
“Slave driver,” I suggested clipping back in.

We were back together well before we reached airport hill and another pell mell descent to sea level. I think I saw the BC lot away in the distance as we headed back to Lezo but even another stint of through and off on the main road would never be enough to catch them. Well especially when we turned off the power a kilometre or more before we reached Lezo, they were still parking bikes when we arrived back at Villa Lezo Atlantico.

 

Between showering, packing and eating the next couple of hours flew past but we were all set to depart just turned one thirty. Our little convoy moved out but we were split up before we even reached the motorway, its a good job Senór Lamba had written us directions. We soon picked up the A15 and started south towards Pamplona, along, it must be said a quite twisty and hilly route through the mountains.

I was of course riding with Kat again, Josh and Tal in the back.

“Legs okay Gab?”
“Bit sore,” I allowed.
“We’ll get you sorted out once we get there.”
“Yeah,” I allowed.
“Probably that stupid move on that corner,” Josh opined from behind.
“What’s that?” Kat queried.
“She cut through the apex of this stupid hairpin, must’ve been like thirty, forty percent.”
“That first one,” Tal suggested.
“Aye,” Josh agreed.
“Ouch,” his girlfriend allowed.
“It was only like a couple of metres,” I pointed out.
“No wonder your legs ache,” Kat told me, “just be careful, you could do real damage like that.”

That’s me told.

 

The Bimmer made short work of the distance to Pamplona and it seemed no time at all before we were turning off onto the Pamplona ring road. I had thought we’d be billeted in the city itself but instead we took the ring for about a K before turning off at a sign for Artica. Our accomodation wasn’t actually a hotel as such but rather a sort of boarding house attached to a college, oh well.

“Top luxury,” Josh suggested.
“Hardly Switzerland,” Tal agreed, “remember that place in Luzern?”
“Was a bit overboard,” I noted.
“They could probably get this place for cheap,” Kat opined.

The minibus arrived with the rest of the vehicles in their wake.

 

Home from home its not, the rooms sparsely furnished in a very utilitarian way, shower and sink in the room but communal toilets. Well I guess we won’t be in there too much, there is a sort of games room and lounge and meals will be in a very school like cafeteria. I guess its not that different to when we were at Lilleshall last year except everyone here is here for the same thing.

Room allocation was the same as at Lezo except the sexes are separated in different parts of the building. We gathered in the lounge once we’d got bags into rooms.

“Right folks, I know its not the Ritz but its what it is. For those that still want one we’ll do the massages in the camper today. we’ll eat here tonight, we need to be at the reception at seven thirty so change before dinner. Anything to add Caroline, Kat?”
“Same order as yesterday starting in twenty minutes,” Kat advised.
“If you left laundry with me earlier you can collect it at the same time,” Angela added.
“Okay then people, dinner at five thirty.”

 

“Ooh!” I complained as Kat flexed my leg.
“Hmmm, this hurt,” she repeated the procedure with the other pin.
“No, that's fine.”
“I think you’ve got a small tear, probably from that daft move earlier.”
“Is that bad?” It sounds bad.
“We’ll keep an eye on it but they usually heal quite well, bit uncomfortable for a couple of days.”
“But I can still race?”
“I’ll check again in the morning, we might put a support dressing on as a precaution but you should be okay.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding, ”after the last few weeks that would’ve been the icing.”
“Just don’t go doing anything daft for a couple of days.”
“Moi?”
“You forget Gaby Bond, I know you and your antics so no showing off on the dance floor eh?”
“In that dress, not exactly likely.”

 

“I always feel a right plonker in this,” Mand mentioned.
“And the rest of us don’t?”
“Never said that, whoever designed it should have to wear it.”
“Its only for a couple of hours.”
“Yeah,” she sighed in agreement, “lets go eat.”

 

We certainly got some looks in the cafeteria, regular dogs dinners amongst the burger and chips. The food was actually quite good, although eating it in smart stuff was a bit of a challenge – think a pasta buffet with all the potential for disaster that has with it. But there was plenty of it and my dress survived the Tagliatelle Carbonara and the fruit salad unscathed.

Then it was time to head into the city for this posh pre race reception, the organisers had put on buses, well coaches, to take everyone into the centre. Yep, like many old cities there isn’t a lot of parking in the centre or even access through the narrow streets. The reception was at the local equivalent of the town hall, a sort of gothic edifice by the main city square.

We separated into our two squads, well it wouldn’t look good to be too cosy, and joined the other riders, race officials and local big wigs inside. Of course much like Switzerland last year, the race is a big thing for the local tourist board and we had to run the gauntlet of posters and displays. Like a load of teenage bike racers and their minders are gonna be interested in all that stuff.

“I thought I recognised the name,” Gret whispered as we waited to do the shake and greet business.
“Eh?” Tali queried.
“The bull thing.”
“Bull thing, like bullfights?” Mand asked.
“No, you know the bulls chase people through the streets.”
“Ah, that Pamplona,” Tali allowed.

So that's what was on those posters.

“De Alemania, Team Apollinaris!” the MC announced.

Guess that's us then.

 

Maddy Bell © 31.03.2018

 

 

We’ve done these presentations before, some have been quite grand, this wasn’t one of those. Oh don’t get me wrong, there were speeches, a video of last years race (which was actually quite informative) a bit of a presentation but not the full interview type jobby you sometimes have to endure. No it was more of a trot across the stage, identify ourselves when named, smile and wave before being hurried off.

I know I said we were over dressed earlier but somehow, as we all stood in our matching dresses (well duh, the lads were in their ‘smart’ trousers and jackets), I kind of felt quite mature and professional compared to the much more leisurely dress of most of the other competitors. There were plenty of jeans being worn and some of the girls didn’t even have any massy on! I’m sure there were a few comments in the room as we stood, neatly arranged, for the inevitable photos, they’re only jealous.

Of course no reception is complete without food and entertainment, we had to endure the wailing of some local ‘folk’ singers before we were released to tackle the waiting tables of Spanish snacks. One thing with the presentation was the chance to put faces to names but to be honest with a field of primarily Iberian regional teams, a couple from France and us – well we might as well be up against Martians. Of course the race we should’ve been riding in Switzerland has pulled all the national squads and with them most of the top European junior riders.

And then of course there’s the language thing. I might be ace at German and can cope with English but Spanish, its like high speed Double Dutch! I can manage ‘Una Fanta per favor’, but I run out much beyond that which keeps conversations with the natives quite short.

“This is like a right barrel man,” Josh opined.
“Its like we’ve got two heads or something,” Mand agreed.
“Our reputation has come ahead,” Gret added.
“For overdressing the occasion?” Tali suggested.
“For being the best Jungere team in Europe,” I proposed, “where’s Daz?”
“Looks like he’s practising his language skills,” Mand advised pointing with ger head.
“Hmm, could be useful,” I allowed.
“Well at least there’s no dressing up this time, must’ve lost your touch Gabs,” Gret chuckled.
“Do you know how uncomfortable those dresses were last year?”
“I’m sure you’ll tell us,” the Brandenburger mentioned.
“Gab, you wear a dirndl all the time at the Stube,” Mand pointed out.
“Doesn’t mean they’re comfortable,” I mumped, “those blouses can rub.”

My protestations of discomfort were met with a lot of eye rolling.

 

“So what’ve you found out Daz?” Mand asked as our missing linguist rejoined us.
“Not a lot.”
“Oh come on, you were over there for ages.”
“Well,” he started, “that tall lad with the curly hair, he’s the Spanish champion and...”

He really had been pumping his new ‘friends’ for intel, I hope it wasn’t as a double agent.

 

“Okay guys,” Dad addressed us as we gathered inside the hostel’s entrance sometime later, “early night please, breakfast from seven, team brief in the camper at eight, you’ll be riding down into Pamplona for the start. Gaby, Kat wants to check your leg so pop and see her out in the Hymer before the briefing. Questions?”
“Pink or red nails Dad?”
Pater sighed, “serious questions Gaby.”
“It is serious, we want to match,” I giggled.
“Well ahm not wearing pink man,” Josh told us.
“They looked really good the other week Joshie,” Tali chipped in.
“People,” Dad interrupted as the conversation threatened to get out of hand, “enough, we’ll see you in the morning.”

 

“Bit different to last year,” Mand stated as we lay in the gloom of our room.
“Yeah,” I agreed as I tapped out an SMS to someone in the Ahrtal.
“And we have to eat marshmallows every couple of K.”
“Mmm,” I allowed.
“I think the chicken outfits are a bit much though.”
“Eh?”
“You weren’t listening were you?” Mand suggested.
“I was, something about eating marshmallows, erm, you were doing a wind up right?”
“Yes it was a wind up,” Mand agreed, “you’re like a lovestruck teenager, oh hang on you are a lovestruck teenager!”
“Am not!”
“So you weren’t texting Max then?”
“Might’ve been,” I admitted, “I was just telling him about the presentation.”
“Kiss, kiss,” she taunted.

 

“Still sore?” Kat enquired as she felt along my calf.
“Bit.”
“Wearing heels last night probably didn’t help.”
“They’re hardly high.”
“But they still have you using muscle sets you don’t generally use – well unless you wear them all the time, that's why you get sore legs when you do wear them.”
“I guess, so what now?”
“I’ll put you some strapping on for today, just try to not aggravate it too much eh?”
“I’ll try boss.”
I felt a right narna when the others climbed into the camper, a bright blue plaster thing adorning my lower leg.

 

“So we all clear?” Dad asked.
“But what if someone really goes for it?” I queried.
“Josh?” Dad prompted.
“Assess, then react according to the danger.”
“I don’t want you guys chasing everything out there today, there are plenty of others to do that, preserve your energy, its going to be warm out there, I don’t want you getting too dehydrated, follow the plan, listen to Josh. Anything else?”
“Sun screen,” Kat told us.
“As she says,” Dad noted, “feed is at seventy five so make sure you get plenty of snap from Angela. Have a good ride and stay safe.”

 

Today we’ve got a loop out through the rolling countryside to some place called Logroῆo before a more testing return to Pamplona through the mountains for the finish back here in the main square. Well I guess we’ve done the training, its time to get on with getting the results. Around us the colourful clamour of riders, supporters and the MC gabbling away at nineteen to the dozen leant something of a carnival feel to things.

I looked around for the BC guys, their nondescript new jerseys merging into the colourful array waiting to set off. A couple of whistle blasts alerted everyone to the impending departure, the hubbub died down somewhat.

The MC started what I’m guessing was a countdown, soon joined by members of the crowd around us, ‘Cuatro, tres, dos, uno!’
“Time to go guys,” I mentioned.
“Lets do it,” Josh added as we were surrounded by a hundred or so pairs of feet engaging cleats, cursing and making gear changes that should’ve already been made – yep the usual din of the start of a race.

Of course the start is neutralised, today for the kilometre or so out to the university, more than far enough to get positioned for when the flag drops. For me this is a big thing, my first race in several weeks, my first since the drugs fiasco, so okay no one here knows about that but even so I feel like I need to prove myself anew.

 

By the time the actual flag was dropped, the blue jerseys of Apollinaris were all near the front of affairs, the BC Schauff guys were also in close attendance. Its usual for some chancer to set off from the gun and today was to be no different, yep, with something like a hundred and thirty K, some idiot took off. I know there’s a sprint about mid way but really, some people.

So of course that got a reaction and whilst we weren’t actively taking part, the first few kilometres out past the airport passed at somewhat higher speed than was sensible. Breakaway boy was of course reeled in and thankfully things settled into a more comfortable pace as we started the first climb of the day, a long drag chasing the railway line. We took an hour to cover the first twenty five kilometres, hardly ripping up the trees but I don’t think anyone was upset by the languid pace.

 

“Bit docile like.” Josh suggested as we cruised along between the fields.
“They’re all waiting.”
“Waiting? tha chippers around Newkie are faster than this, what tha heck are they waiting for?”
“Me, us, watch.”

I’ve been watching the bunch around us for a bit, every time I move forward a bit there’s like a dozen riders marking me and with this National Champs jersey on my back I’m a bit hard to miss. I eased my way forwards before sitting up at the pointy end of the peloton. You’d normally expect riders to filter past and keep the pace up but ut uh, they just slowed to match my speed. Yep, they’re waiting for me to make a move sure enough.

It took me a few minutes to get back to Josh who’d now been joined by Jamie and Geth.

“This is ridiculous,” the latter opined.
“Not much,” I agreed.
“We should liven things up,” Jamie proposed.
“Well,” I dropped my voice a little, “you could attack.”
“Not just a pretty face eh Bond,” Josh stated, that earnt him a level two hard stare.
“You mean like us two?” Geth queried.
“Well one of youse,” Josh almost chuckled.
“Even better, one of you and Manda, we’d both have reason not to chase then,” I added.
“I like it,” Jamie grinned, “but how about if Mikel goes?”
“Hmm, some of them will know him but not in that strip like,” Josh smirked.

 

I’m sure we’d had some sort of audience during our short discussion, I spotted Curly, well I can’t pronounce his name, the Spanish champion watching as we drifted apart. Of course it would be too obvious to now go straight on the attack, instead Jamie had proposed a point a couple of K further on. We all have a part to play and its not like we’ve got anything to lose and I’d rather not leave it to a sprint back in Pamplona.

“Why me?” Mand hissed coming alongside.
“Why not? Between you, you can mop up the prime points, maybe take some of the pressure.”
“We’re not gonna get to the finish,” she pointed out.
“Maybe not but the rest of this lot are gonna need to do something to stop that.”

 

And so it was that as we approached the launch site I started a bit of finessing, checking my gears, the tightness of shoes – all sure signs I’m up to something. I glanced about and launched my feint, immediately I could tell I had company, yep, like vultures at the kill. A quick glance revealed I’d garnered a big chunk of attention, I kept the effort, maybe ninety percent, for a few more metres before a very theatrical sit up.

Of course that’s when M & M took off, not unnoticed but clearly they were small fry compared to me, only a couple of lads giving chase. But it was clear that I’m the one they all consider the threat this week, a double edged sword and I suppose not unexpected. Thing is, two can play that game, we’ve come to get a result and whilst I could reasonably be considered our ‘star’ rider, well I’m not the only one capable of taking the title.

It wasn’t long before the neutral service went past the bunch but even that garnered less response than me adjusting a bra strap. We were in a lightly rolling landscape now, blue skies above and temperature just on the right side of comfortable. Of course the combined might of the Schauff and Apollinaris teams at the head of affairs effectively kept a cork on any further reaction from the rest of the peloton.

Hour two added thirty k to the total, when we reached Lodosa the road went from country lane to wider, smoother tarmac and with the wider road we lost our controlling grip on the bunch. Not that anyone was exactly chasing the break down but Curly and his Spanish National squad started to drive the pace a bit, some reaction at last.

 

Maddy Bell © 10.04.2018

 

 

With four riders up the road and at the last time check, some four minutes separating them from the bunch there was no point in worrying over the prime in Logroῆo. Instead my thoughts were on the feed soon after and the start of the somewhat bumpier return to Pamplona. Yes, there are a couple of smaller leg stretchers and then the big one of the Alto de Guembe, lots of steep ramps and hairpins before a fast run back down into Pamplona.

And whilst I know both of our guys can climb, i’m pretty sure at some point, Curly and co will have their fill of watching me do nothing and go for the stage. We were now sweeping towards the town at something like forty five K, a long snake of riders headed by the Spanish team. Their effort not ours as we were sucked along in their wake through the local industrial park.

Then it was roundabout city, like every couple of hundred metres, as we did a circuit of the town. There was nothing left on the line but the Spaniards nevertheless made a big effort, worthy of the finale, to get Curly over the line first. Whether they were expecting some reaction I couldn’t say but we kept our cards close, there’s time enough yet.

Of course the feed zone just out of the town was the usual chaos, but thanks to Dads efforts in training, our people all collected their musettes without issue unlike several others who missed or dropped bags. I dug into my lunch bag and quickly stowed the contents ready to drop off the used bag.

 

“Best get the scoff down quick as Gab,” Josh advised.
“Yeah, a couple of K yet before the climb?”
“Bout ten, after the next village.”

We negotiated another couple of roundy bouts after which the road ran straight and fairly level off into the distance. I made short work of my sandwiches and the chunk of fruit cake, I can snack on the rest later. The fresh bidons were cold, which was a relief, warm energy drink is not pleasant and its getting quite warm now.

“The girls alright Daz?” I asked as he drew up beside me, replacing Josh for a bit.
“Yeah, they don’t half rattle though.”

Yup, if they’re talking they’re alright.

“You?”
“Bit bored to be honest, no one seems very keen on racing.”
“Not like Switzerland eh?” I agreed.
“Are we?” he hinted.
“Last climb,” I told him, “hard as, then sprint to the finish.”
“What about Mikel and Mand?”
“Sacrificial goats?” there is a chance they can hold out but i’m guessing we’ll take them maybe as soon as this next climb.

 

We transited the village and almost immediately started to climb, quite steadily but definitely up. Then we were dropping but not for long before resuming upwards motion, through a few trees then into a couple of not quite hairpins and wide bends towards an almost plateau like summit. Of course what goes up must come down and I found myself hanging doggedly onto Josh’s wheel as we lost altitude at a significant rate.

There was some hard braking in the village at the bottom, a pair of almost ninety degree turns requiring a bit less speed to get around in even this elongated peloton.

“One down,” Josh sighed.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “everyone on board?”
“Aye lass, BC will take the bottom, we’ll take the top.”

We haven’t really tried this tactic before, oh we’ve attacked on climbs but this is pure Tour de France stuff we’re planning.

 

The road rolled towards the distant motorway, i’m sure I could see the break at one point, still a good couple of minutes up the road. I was a little surprised when Curly dropped in alongside me, weirdly he didn’t say anything, just sat there.

“Heya.”
“Is warm eh?” he offered in just understandable German.
“Warmer than back home,” I allowed.
“Hmm, your friend ahead, clever move.”
“Thanks.”

He grunted again and moved away.

 

“What was that all about hen?”
“We’ve been rumbled.”
“The er big A?”
“Not that, just the M & M business.”
“Yer had me worried for a bit there pet,” Josh told me.

 

Obviously we didn’t join the autovia but our road followed it quite closely as we started to climb once more. The pace was quite high, the earlier sedate pace may have had more going for it after all. Another unimpressive summit then another fast descent to Estella where the final climb effectively starts.

But before the action there was more ‘dead’ ground to cover, a steepish climb from the river then gently climbing back to the motorway. Then just as it felt we would start losing height we turned and ahead of us was a wall of mountain and somewhere up there the Alto de Guembe. Team BC Schauff had been moving up and by the top of the first short climb up to a small reservoir were all ahead of our blue jerseys (well not mine obviously as i’m wearing my German champions jersey but you know what I mean.)

They didn’t do anything, they just were, a few ‘locals’ were sharing the pace, steady but enough to tail off the unwary. Another be-hairpinned climb up to a second, larger body of water did start to contribute victims, the field now stretched over a fair bit of road. Jamie turned to us and gave a short nod, out of the corner of my eye I saw Josh do likewise, game on.

 

Whilst not the strongest climbers, the BC girls had got one advantage here, several kilos each in fact so as they led us up away from the water, the heavier lads behind had to dig in to stay on. Curly gave me a questioning look from the opposite curb, I shrugged back with an equally questioning look. The girls kept going into the next ramp where Geth and Jamie went through to take over, their team mates quickly slipping back, job done.

The road continued upwards, the two lads sharing the pace, a pace that was enough to deter attacks and could be easily overlooked as protecting their team mate ahead of us. We reached a false summit and the road turned away uphill yet again, not especially steeply but enough to stop conversation. By the next village it was clear that they were running out of steam as a couple of Spaniards overtook them on the ramp into the square – time for the Appollinaris train.

 

Josh gave me a warning look as the guys slipped back past us, instead of going forward we stayed in behind the new leaders. The road barely covered twenty metres without some sort of turn and a one eighty loop allowed a chance to assess the damage behind. Extensive, riders in ones, twos, threes littered the mountainside below and now its the home team doing most of the damage.

Another false summit led us into the upper climb and for the first time the leaders came clearly into view a couple of turns ahead of us. It was like pulling a power cable, those doing the work seemed to think the job was over and the pace dropped off, now its our turn! Tal and Gret took point, Daz behind with Josh following and me glued to his wheel.

The sudden spurt of speed shook a few more bodies free, Curly was still in attendance but the hundred plus peloton has dwindled to perhaps twenty. Ahead I could pick out the leaders jerseys, well even that had changed, M & M were a short way ahead of the others now even as we closed on them all. One village, then as we approached the next, Tali came off, spent.

Guembe, after which the climb is named, was barely cleared before we started in on the hairpin strewn ascent to the pass summit. Gret rescinded the lead after taking us through the first pair of hairpins, Daz taking over and actually lifting the pace further. All around me I could hear heavy breathing, not least my own as I held onto Josh like a limpet.

Somewhere we must have passed the neutral service as we caught first one then the second Spaniard. We were in forest now and whilst the shade was nice it was quite stifling under the trees, I hit a bidon, a looong draft, won’t get much chance on the descent. Daz blew big style, Josh giving him a pat on the back as The Engine took over and once again the speed crept up and more damage occurred behind.

 

And then we were on the escapees, Josh powered through and suddenly no one was in front. We burst from the woodland and there, maybe four hundred metres away was the summit complete with banners and an albeit small crowd of race watchers. At two hundred I made my move and sprinted around the Toon who inadvertently (honest) blocked any immediate chase by Curly et al.

Yeah, I know its not the finale but there’re a good twenty K to the finish to recover, mostly downhill. So I took the first mountains points before finally being able to rest for a moment. Josh’s big effort had stripped the leaders to just six behind me, Josh himself just a few metres behind them.

The descent started wide and open, Josh quickly rejoining our group as I found myself being overtaken by the heavier lads with me.

“Get my wheel,” Josh gasped as I lost position, low weight is good uphill but downhill i’m at a serious disadvantage.

And so we screamed down off the mountain, our speed easily topping sixty K, I stopped looking at that point. A set of steeply ramped hairpins saw us lose height rapidly through more woodland and we quickly gained speed again towards what appeared to be a humpback bridge. Not just humpback but straight into a junction, my back wheel locked as I tried to decelerate, a squiggly session almost had me into the opposite wall but thankfully I just grazed it.

After a fairly quiet day it was all hell let loose now, I was able to move forward in the group now we were on a less gravitationally affected bit of road. Over another bridge and it was out of the saddle up a small rise before dropping to another river crossing. This time however the road was clearly climbing quite seriously in front, oh well, so much for resting downhill.

My thighs were well burning by the time I topped the climb, I allowed myself a glance behind after a rail crossing, bum, i’m clear. The road was tipping up again but only for about half a K to the next village, I dug deep, getting my second wind. I grabbed a bottle and my glug emptied it, okay lets do this Bond.

 

It wasn’t far to Pamplona now, ten twelve kilometres and I reckon i’ve got a fair chance of getting there. As soon as I hit the better road down in the valley I went into old school time trial mode, if I don’t get this it won’t be for lack of trying. The road of course had yet more uphill, a draggy climb but once over the top Pamplona lay before me.

No time for sightseeing, I concentrated my efforts along the almost straight road into the city. Through a bunch of roundabouts, well it became a bit of a blur to be honest as the commisaire led the way through city streets more used to bulls than bikes. And then there it was, the one K flag, can I get there?

I blindly followed the lead car and it was only when it pulled to the side waving me through that I realised I was there, the main square we departed five, six hours ago. Don’t look behind, don’t look behind but there it was, one of those big screens with me on it and more importantly no one else. Yes! I sat up and readjusted my jersey, raising both arms as I crossed the line, only now conscious of the cheering crowd and verbal diarrhoea of the MC.

I’d barely slumped over my bars before there was more exciteable noise and the sprint for second came in, if I had to say I think Curly got it but it was close. Josh came in at the back of the group but only just ahead of the next assemblage which I was surprised to see both Mikel and Manda in. I guess I shouldn’t have been, they were almost at the top of the Alto de Guembe when we caught them.

 

When Dad found me he just shook his head before giving me a hug, “you daft bugger.”
“It just happened Dad.”
“Hmm,” he er, hmmd.
“And I fancied a different jersey tomorrow,” I added with a grin.
“Come on, lets get you sorted out.”

I won’t bore you with the presentation, I couldn’t understand most of it after all. But apparently i’m officially leader and mountains overall, and in the girls classification, the points, for the mid race sprint, Mikel and Mand have the honours. Of course I can’t wear four jerseys, just the leaders fetching grass green jersey, which I reckon is an improvement on my National champs jersey!

Of course after the presentation I had to do the drugs sample stuff, yeah, like i’ve got a lot of confidence in all that after recent events. Of course I couldn’t go which earnt me a couple of bottles of cola to get things going and only half an hour later I got to head back to the accomodation.

 

“I told you nothing daft,” Kat huffed another hour later, i’d lost my premier massage position due to the drugs testing delay. “and what have you done to the other one, you been off?”
“No,” I replied in denial.
“Lets have a look,” she lifted my bloodied leg and carefully dabbed at it, “looks like road rash.”
Dur, “um, I think I might’ve scraped a wall?”
“That’d do it I guess, how’s the other leg?”
“Not noticed it, I did try to keep things steady.”
“Good, well lets get on, any other bashes I should know about?”
“Don’t think so.”

By the time she’d worked her magic and patched me up it was almost six.

 

Maddy Bell © 10.04.2018

 

 

“You coming Gab,” Sal queried as I joined the others at our dinner table.
“Coming? Where to?” I asked in turn as I slid my food onto the table.
“Town,” Lor advised, ”your Dad said we could go in if we want to.”
“What for? I mean I know its hardly entertainment central here but like the shops’ll all be shut.”
“You don’t have to shop you know Gab,” Tal opined.
“Yeah, I know.”
“We can get ice cream or coffee or something,” Claire suggested.
I looked at the paltry single scoop of vanilla that I just picked up, hmm, I could fancy more dessert. “count me in.”
“So,” Mand poked at her food, “any idea what this green thing is?”

 

“This it?” Gret queried.
“’s got the right number,” I noted.
“Bit of a clue,” Mand added flatly.

Yup, no chauffeur driven transport into Pamplona, apparently all our drivers had stuff to do for tomorrow so our options were left at walk or use public transport. It might not be a huge distance to walk but its still walking so bus it is. The bus pulled into the stop, a small board in the window said ‘Playa de Pompeyo’ which is what the woman in reception said should be our destination.

We weren’t the only ones waiting at the stop, we waited whilst several others boarded then brandishing the ‘visitor passes’ we’d been given at the hostel, boarded ourselves. It was hardly overloaded, our little group easily found seats at the back by which time we were moving. I’d imagined we’d be going the same way that we’d used earlier in the day but we turned into an industrial park and I was completely lost – good job we didn’t walk then!

It wasn’t a long journey, when the bus pulled into the tiny terminus at the Playa de Pompeyo we’d not been on it fifteen minutes.

“Isn’t this where we came back in the race?” Gret posed.
“Wasn’t paying much attention,” I admitted.
“Pretty sure it is,” Sal put in.
“Yhere’s a map over there,” Mand indicated towards the park on the other side of the road.

 

It took us a couple of minutes to cross the busy junction, I thought the traffic was surprisingly heavy for nearly half seven in the evening. According to the map, the Old Town across the river was where we wanted to be so we headed across the park in that direction. There were more people once we’d crossed the bridge, tourists for the most part, but a fair number of ‘obvious’ locals, well tourists dress like, well tourists right?

Anyhow we were soon in the main square now devoid of most of the race infrastructure – we’ll be back Saturday for the finale of course. The place looked completely different empty of bikes and barriers, I recognised the place that the reception was in at one corner.

“Where now?” Lor queried.
“How about down there?” Mand suggested.
“Calle del Torro,” Sal read from the wall.
“Street of Bulls,” I loosely translated.
“Must be where they do the bull run thing,” Gret opined.

Yeah, in the end it was just the five of us who’ve come, Claire had in the end opted to rejoin the gaming club and Tali, well she disappeared with Josh straight after dinner.

“As long as there’s no moving beef tonight.” I muttered.
“Gab!” Mad groaned.
“Just saying.”
“Come on you two,” Lor chivvied.

 

Well I wasn’t that impressed, the narrow lanes were not exactly spectacular, I guess when they are full of beef and crowds its different but on a late summer evening they’re just old streets with overpriced cafes and restaurants. I’m not really a Philistine, honest but I like to see something more tangible than dusty old streets. We wandered along amongst the other visitors, posing for cheesy pictures and the like, as predicted all the shops were long shut.

“Hey Eis!” Gret announced.

Now we’re talking!

It wasn’t a gelaterie but a pseudo handcart thing, so no fancy sundaes, not that that's important, they were selling ice cream. We were soon equipped with cornets, I got my favourite pistachio and coconut duo and my mood was suddenly improved. We found seats on the wall of a fountain thing and descended into ‘eistrance’.

 

“Anyone would think you’d come last rather than first today,” Gret noted.
“Yeah, you’ve been right mardy this evening,” Sal agreed.
“Guess the excitements worn off,” I admitted, “I’ve made life difficult for everyone for tomorrow by winning.”
“We’ll live,” Mand stated.
“Yeah, its not like we’ve not been here before is it,” Lor added.
“I know but its just like last year, everyone attacking us.”
“But Gab,” Mand came back, “you just said it, they’ve got to attack, we’ve only got to defend and if today is anything to go by, there’s not many of them up to the job.”
“I should’ve sat up on that last climb.”
“Whatever for, if there's one thing I know about you Bond,” Gret ploughed in, “its that you’ll always go for the win, hang the consequences, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”
“She’s right,” Mand confirmed.
“But still.”
“You see anyone complaining?” Sal queried.
“No, but….”
“But nothing girl,” Gret returned, “we came here to show the selectors what we’re made of, I’d say we’ve been pretty solid so far.”

 

“Come on, its still there!” Lor panted.

Yeah, we’re running for our bus, why, erm we decided to get pizza and like the time just disappeared.

“Slow down, I’ve got cramp.”
“You know the way back?” Gret asked grabbing my elbow.
“Erm,” I admitted.
“Best run then,” she advised propelling me forward through the now dark parkland.

Not sure if the driver saw us, our watches were wrong or what but we scrambled onto the ‘14’ moments before it departed. Of course we then nearly missed our stop, everything looks different going the other direction – and in the dark. Sal spotted the camper otherwise who knows where we would’ve ended up, Madrid or something no doubt.

 

The following morning Dad had us out on the bus before eight, todays stage starts at some place about an hour south of Pamplona, Tudela or some such. Its also supposed to be the quote easy unquote day, no mountains, Dad says we go down one valley, up the next then over a bit of a lump to the finish in Zaragoza. With the travelling its gonna be a long day.

 

Today of course the MC had a lot more to tell the small crowd waiting for the start, there was no escaping the introduction business today – and make my bright green jersey a clear target for the rest of the field. How the hell the Spanish can understand half of what he’s saying, its like listening to music at double speed but they clapped and cheered at what I’m guessing were appropriate times.

“Right,” Dad started after collecting us into a bit of a huddle, “everyone okay with the plan?”
“You think they’ll fall for it again?” I opined.
“They’re gonna be watching the race leader, not someone who finished in the main bunch five minutes down,” he pointed out.

Its an audacious plan, we’ve all got a rôle to play and if its successful, we’ll still be in charge tomorrow. A whistle sounded, a minute until the off.

“Okay, good ride everyone,” Dad told us.

We’re gonna need it.

 

I pulled up next to Curly, “morgen!”
“Er morgen,” he almost stuttered, my cheery greeting clearly having caught him off guard.
“You like?” I waggled my fingers at him, my nails having been painted to match my leaders jersey – who knows why Tal had green nail varnish in her bag?
“Er very nice.”
I adjusted my jerseys zip a tad, “I always like to do them to match my jersey, I think green is lucky.”
“Er right,” his eyes were not looking at my hands now.
“Oops, time to go,” I’d deliberately ignored the countdown and now the rest of the field were already pressing past us.

We’d lost a good twenty places before we left Tudela’s main square.

“So you have lucky gloves or anything?”
“Um no.”
“I bet you do, go on what is it, no don’t tell me, socks?”
“No, nothing really.”

He seemed fascinated by something, he kept looking at me as we wound out of the town and across the Rio Ebro where the neutralised zone ended.

“Oo, is that a stork?” I pointed out at the river.
“No idea, I don’t know birds.”
“Neither do I,” I admitted.

 

It was a bit of a one sided conversation to be honest but he made no attempt to escape my rather ditzy questions as the bunch repeated yesterdays lazy start to the day’s proceedings. I guess he thought he was covering me – and getting a free view of my chest at the same time, sneaky tactics I know but sometimes you have to use what you have and lets face it, all boys are the same where boobs are concerned. As is only right for the race leader, my team mates were sat just ahead of us, Josh conveniently blocking the view forward as he chatted with Jamie.
And so it was that the escape was made with less than five kilometres on the meter, my friendly neighbourhood Toon signalled me.

“Looks like the help wants a word, catch ya later.”
“Er sure,” Curly agreed.

I moved up alongside Josh.

“Thank heavens for that, he was creeping me out,” I told him whilst readjusting my zip to expose a bit less me.
“Youse make ah reet good Mat-a-haree hen.”
“Whatever, so Geth’s gone?”
“Aye, got some company like, one of the Frenchies an’ ah think four Spanish.”
“Cool, we just need to keep a lid on this lot now.”

 

“Part two?” Daz asked warily.
We’d not got twenty pretty flat kilometres on the clock yet, Josh stood on his pedals to look up the road, “aye, there’s a tree on the left, five hundred, okay G?”

G? where’d that come from?

“Sure J,” I pointedly replied.

I drifted towards the right hand edge of the road as those heading the peloton were favouring the white line and looked for the tree. Daz signalled he was ready from several wheels ahead of me, operation diversion part two is ready to roll. Two hundred, one hundred, fifty, go!

Well we’d been pottering along at something like twenty five so by the time I’d hit the blue touch paper and given it a bit of effort I was doing forty plus and was clear of the dawdlers on the front. I was vaguely aware of Daz pulling out to follow me but I kept at full gas for a good thirty seconds before easy off enough for my lieutenant to come through to assist. Okay, another Josh he isn’t but he is bigger than me so I get some shelter and he’s willing to commit which is just as important.

Not that we were really trying to escape of course. I glanced under my arm to see the reaction behind, we had maybe a hundred metres of clear road back to where Curly’s Spanish national team were organising the chase, well trying to as somehow there were several sky blue and the red and white Schauff jerseys doing a fair job of getting in the way, it looked quite authentic!

The road bobbled about a bit and we kept riding at about ninety P, just enough to seem to be trying without killing ourselves. We dangled between a hundred and two for a couple of kilometres before the chase started eating into the gap.

“Enough,” I gasped out before sitting up and taking a pull out of a bidon.
“Thank the f!” Daz allowed in turn joining me in a refreshment moment.

 

Maddy Bell © 13.04.2018

 

 
You wouldn’t think it would take the peloton very long to close the small distance that me and Daz had opened once we sat up but seeing us desist they’d clearly done the same. That left us dangling out front for another kilometre or so, I had half a mind to go for it but I promised Dad not to do anything too rash today. Eventually though Curly’s lot went through and the pair of us were able to slot back into the bunch somewhere around fiftieth wheel.

Tal slipped back to us, casually giving me her wheel.

“Josh says to move up a bit then sit in to rest,” she offered over her shoulder.
“Did it work?”
“Think so, they’d just about got organised when you sat up.”
“Neat,” I allowed.

In case you haven’t worked it out we’re trying to get Curly and co to do all the work today, tire them out in advance of tomorrows Queen stage. I know Geth is up the road but that gives the BC lot an excuse not to work and likewise with me an’ Daz’s feint. Unless the front lot get more than about five minutes on us I only need to finish with Curly to stay in green.

We negotiated another roundabout and after a twiddly transit of the village arrived into the feed zone. I spotted Angela with an armful of musettes and prepared to make my grab.

“Four minutes!” she yelled as I took my lunch.
“Cheers!”

Four minutes, that could be doable if they keep working although anything could happen in seventy kilometres. I transferred my supplies, Tal collected musettes from the rest of us and did the drop, as Dad says, it lowers the risk. There was an unofficial truce over the next kilometre as food was consumed, it really isn’t very sporting to attack over lunch.
 
We turned off the main road and there ahead of was a huge lump of hill, it looked big enough now and we’re, i’m guessing, at least twenty K away.

“What’s the betting we have to go over that,” Mand complained.
“Either over or under,” I agreed.
Josh dropped into the conversation, “’bout forty K downhill to the finish from the top like.”
“We should smash this lot on the way up,” Gret suggested.

I’d been thinking the same.

“Mr B wants us fresh for tomorrow so we sit in.”
“I hate it when you’re right,” Tal sighed.
“We could be in trouble if they ever get properly organised.”
“Aye lass,” Josh agreed, “if they got organised.”
 
The road wasn’t climbing steadily, rather it was bouncing its way upward, a few metres here, more there, often dropping to wipe out some of the previous altitude gains. Sometimes the grade reached double figures but never for long, just long enough to start shedding a few back markers. As the distance ticked by the bulk of the ‘mountain’ fell from sight, instead all we could now see was folds of hillside from horizon to horizon.

I’m pretty sure the main players were expecting a repeat of yesterdays power climbing but we stayed our ground, sat something like twentieth wheel. The road was flanked with stony fields but now, higher up, the hillsides were wooded, not that it looked like the road would gain any shelter anytime soon. Yeah, the sun was doing a fair job of cooking us today and despite the sunblock I could feel my exposed bits crisping.
We went through a junction onto a slightly more ‘main’ road and there ahead of us a village crowded the hillside and above it, a ribbon of tarmac appearing to go vertically up a rocky defile.

“Bugger,” Daz suggested.
“They’ve got to be kidding,” Lor mentioned.
“There must be another road,” Jamie proposed in turn.

I wouldn’t bet on it. On the other hand, if the break still has four minutes they’d be on that I reckon and I can’t see anything up there. Despite looking pretty level it was quite a climb, a sticky climb up to the village, the board said ‘Cas. de Valdejasa’ and instead of taking the new bit of bypass we turned into the village itself. By the time we’d covered the couple a hundred metres to the village we were out of the saddle and straining up a silly slope.

Which is where it all went to pot. Someone ahead of me fluffed a gear change and suddenly there was shouting and bodies across the road, there was nowhere for me to go and I ended up semi wedged against a wall. I struggled to get a foot free then almost fell over as I dismounted, I just about stayed upright but then had to clamber through the bikes and bodies.

It took time to get past, then trying to get moving again on a bit of 15% incline is a challenge and where are the others? I finally got moving again, one amongst a trickle of riders now hoping to cut our losses. The turns in the village were disorientating, I was a bit surprised to be directed off to the right but as we exited the buildings we joined the new road and I got an eyefull of vertical climbing.
 
“What happened man?” Josh asked as I came up to him.
“Someone came down on that steep bit, had to stop and climb past.”
“Amateurs! Your man is up ahead somewhere.”
“Any more of ours up here?”
“Mikel and Jamie,” he glanced behind us, “looks like a couple of the others are through, you want to wait?”

I quickly ran things through my head, more bodies will make a chase easier but on the other hand waiting for them will open up a bigger deficit to close.

“Don’t think we can afford to.”
“Agreed, they’ll come up if they can, so lets get to it.”

The vertical tarmac wasn’t of course, oh it was quite steep but nothing exceptional, it was just an optical thing that gave the impression of a wall. I slotted onto J’s wheel and we started to pick off the metres and eventually started to bring back some of the riders ahead of us. How far ahead Curly is I couldn’t say, a minute, two? Whatever his advantage its too much.
 
By the summit there was still no sign of Curly but a pair of Schauff jerseys were not that far ahead of us as we came under the banner. Sugar, I could lose everything here, the race lead and the mountains, the Spaniard only needs twenty seconds to take the former. I had been planning on being first in the bunch across the summit which would keep me in contention for the mountains but now, well I hope the judges can work it all out.

We dropped into some forest and the road this side started to bobble around both restricting our view and preventing us getting up too much speed. From two we became four and we charged pell mell down the mountainside in pursuit of our quarry. A quarry that we finally spotted once the road straightened and we emerged from the shadows back into bright sunlight.

Off in the distance a yellowy smog marked the location of Zaragoza still about twenty K distant. Curly only looked to have a couple of companions so we’d just got numerical advantage but on the other hand, at a guess they were a minute ahead of us. So much for preserving our energies for tomorrows climbs, well at least its downhill.
 
Josh quickly had us in a fast rotation, I say us, I was sat fourth wheel, its not that I couldn’t contribute but rather I’d be the ace in the hole if we get close enough to contest things. We were back into a land of stony fields now, the road almost straight which kept our carrot in almost constant view. It was difficult to tell if we were making much of an inroad on the deficit, I think we were closer but I couldn’t be sure.

The downhill ended, well temporarily, with a ramp up onto a dual carriageway, with the better road I pushed into the rotation and my head went back to time trials back in England. Yeah, there’s nothing quite like hammering along the A1, traffic at your elbow in pursuit of a PB. But back to today, we were hitting fifty K consistently until the surface deteriorated just before the five K flag.

Our quarry was still ahead of us, too far ahead and we’re running out of road. Jamie was starting to flag now, not that I was feeling that great after twenty odd kilometres of constant chasing. As we turned onto a wide avenue I judged our deficit at about forty seconds, not insurmountable in theory but here, today? It wasn’t much further on that our Scot blew and I resigned myself to losing the green leaders jersey.

The avenue seemed never ending but as we reached the one to go marker it ended and we continued on closer streets towards the finale. We made a turn and I could both see and hear the finish area, well nothing ventured as they say. I hit the turbo and sprinted ahead of my remaining companions, giving the last five hundred everything I had left.

Oh I was in no danger of catching Curly now but if I can keep the loss to a minimum all won’t be lost. Around a last traffic island and onto the bridge I could see the Spaniard crossing the line. The MC had the crowd whipped up and there was a big cheer as I came towards the line, I somehow got the turbo up to eleven, the red mist descended quickly but not fully until I’d thrown the bike over the line.
 
“You alright Gab?” Caro asked passing me a bottle of something wet as I sat on the curb getting my breath back.
I took a long pull before replying, “just about, not exactly to plan eh?”
“Geth got the stage.”
“Well at least something went right,” I allowed with a cough.
 
I was gobsmacked ten minutes later when they started the presentations, somehow I’m still in green! Oh my lead is somewhat more tenuous than this morning, seven seconds rather than twenty over Curly but even one second is enough. I have lost the mountains jersey, that’ll be resting on Geth's shoulders tomorrow, although we both have the same points he leads on countback.

“Really?”
“If you want to eat tonight kiddo,” Dad advised.
“urgh!” I allowed levering myself off the grass.

I gathered up my shoes and helmet and slipped an arm through Dad’s.

“Come on you,” he chuckled.
“So how come I didn’t get tested today?”
“They’re only doing stage winners and another three at random.”
“Really? Guess its better than nothing.”
“It all costs money kiddo,” he told me as we followed the rest to the side street where the team cars were parked.
“Doesn’t everything,” I sighed.
 
“Ouch!” I allowed as Kat touched my arm.
“You did put sunscreen on?” she enquired.

Yeah it took us a couple of hours to get back to Pamplona and we ate straight away, so here I am getting my massage at well past seven – no trips into town tonight.

“Yes.”
“Just checking, let me get some after sun on it.”
“Cheers.”
“Here we go, it’ll feel cold.”
“Yikes!” I nearly jumped off the table.
“I did warn you.”
“You said cold not freezing.”
“Semantics,” she told me as she smoothed the balm over each arm, “I’ll do your legs after the rub, they painful?”
“Not especially,” I allowed inspecting the almost glowing stripe around each thigh where my shorts stop.
“Right then, lets give these legs some relief.”
 
“What a day,” Mand pronounced as we lay on our beds, unable to sleep but too tired to do much else.
“Tell me about it, on second thoughts don’t.”
“Not looking forward to tomorrow.”
“Yeah, its a bit bogus all that climbing and no descent.”
“That is why they call it a mountain top finish,” she pointed out.
“I know, it just doesn’t seem fair.”
“At least you still have the green jersey.”
“Only just,” I retorted.
“Still got it.”
“But that means we have to defend it, Curly only needs a bit of luck and he’ll have it, its not like there’s much chance of getting it back on Saturday is there?”
“Yeah, whoever thought of finishing with a crit?”
 
Maddy Bell © 14.04.2018

 

 

“What are you doing?” a bleary eyed de Vreen enquired.
“Exercises,” I supplied as I concentrated on not letting my arms drop.
“Doesn’t look much like exercise to me,” she sleepily mentioned.
“Its Garde stuff, good for your concentration.”
“If you say so, you want the shower?”
I moved to ‘at arms’ before replying,“be my guest.”

Why am I really doing the Garde exercises? Well to be honest I couldn’t sleep, I woke up worrying about today’s Queen stage and as I was getting a bit antsy I thought they’d calm the grey matter a bit, seems to be doing the trick.

 

“All yours.”
“Eh?” I managed.
“Shower? Need to shake a leg if you want brekkie,” Mand suggested as she set about towelling her hair off.

Shake a leg? Why would I – oh bum! I guess you can get too relaxed.

 

“Front and centre ten minutes,” Caro advised the herd of breakfast browsers decorating ‘our’ tables in the hostel canteen.

Bang goes the third cup of caffeine then. There was a chorus of chair scraping and general complaint, pretty much everyone looked to be having a case of race day nerves. Oh I know, we’ve all ridden some pretty testing stuff both here in Spain as well as in Switzerland last year but today its all or bust, there’s no downhill to save the day if we climb poorly, pretty much everything will be decided today.

I drained the dregs from my coffee cup and followed the rest to go fetch my race bag. Yup, its another drive out to today’s stage, not far, maybe fifteen, twenty K, I think some teams are riding out but Dad decided we’d go by bus. I met Mand coming down the stairs.

“Here you go,” she told me swinging my bag at me.
“Er cheers,” I allowed catching hold and immediately going for the zip.
“I’ve already checked it.”
“’kay,” I sighed turning to follow her back down the stairs, well at least I can blame someone else if something’s missing.

 

“Right folks,” Dad started once we’d all found perches in the Hymer, “lets get down to business. Firstly, has anyone got anything to say about yesterday and where that leaves us? Jamie?”
“It was a right mess, we didn’t have a plan.”
“Mand?”
“Like Jamie said it turned into a right bun fight, we were all over the place.”
“Anyone else?” Pater enquired, there being no further opinions he went on, “so I think we all agree, we were close to losing everything, it was as much luck as anything that the competition were unable to capitalise on our misfortunes. I know we can’t plan for every eventuality but we should have a plan to follow if possible. Fortunately we do have an excuse to have both teams working together, Geth’s polka jersey and Gaby’s green jersey mean working together won’t look out of place. So pay attention, you all have roles to play if we are gonna bring home
the bacon, Caro?”

My god mother swapped places with Dad who in turn picked up the flip chart thingy.

“Okay, we don’t have much time,” Caro told us, “so here’s the plan.”

 

We completed the journey to the start in Ostiz, a place barely big enough to cope with the race caravan but clearly very enthusiastic about the race being here. Its going to be a hard day, three passes before the final ascent to the finish at some place called Azoleta hard on the French border. The plan is, no you’ll find out as we go along, never know who’s listening.

The sky is promising another hot day in the mountains although the forecast apparently suggested a chance of some wet later. Joy. Anyhow, departure time is fast approaching and I need to do the ol’ introduction thing beforehand – more joy.

 

“Not looking forward to this,” Sal admitted as we waited for the off.
“Me either,” I allowed.
“I thought you were into all these mountains?”
“Only when she feels like it,” Mand chipped in, “shoulda seen her this morning.”
“Mand,” I snapped.

Any escalation was halted by the minute to go whistle.

 

‘Paaarrrrp!’

Well this is it, a hundred odd kilometres of mountain madness. With a clatter of cleats on pedals our colourful peloton departed the tiny square, Ostiz has had its fifteen minutes and we start our four hours or so of purgatory. After yesterday everyone was watchful, anyone thinking of an early escape better think again.

The neutral zone only lasted until we joined the bypass just outside of the village and the climbing started pretty much immediately. Well okay its not so much climbing as an uphill trend but according to the race book we’ve got best bit of thirty kilometres before we cross the first pass and all of it slopes up. Looking around, everyone else seemed to be settling in for a steady start to the day.

As we started to track the Rio Ultzema up the valley we positioned ourselves as close to Dad and Caro’s instructions, as usual Josh was riding herd with me in the front half of the bunch but not at the front. Of the rest, most were further up the field, ostensibly to chase down any breakaways but mostly to keep the pace steady – well at least for now. Geth and Mikel were close by me and Josh, but not so close we’d all be involved in any tarmac kissing incident, that's the plan at least. And then there’s Vasquez, with such a small time gap its down to him to make the moves.

 

Whilst not straight, the road wasn’t particularly twisty either, not good for attacking on and with the Apollinaris / Schauff army guarding the head of affairs we got a steady enough ride along the valley. Forty five minutes in and we reached the first turn and from a steady climb we went straight into some stiffer action. The narrower road distanced us from the head of affairs a bit but that was the plan right?

Steeper yes but not yet out of the saddle steep, that’ll be further up. One good thing though was the trees, at eleven in the morning it was already mid twenties and the foliage offered welcome relief. One or two riders were already sliding backwards even at this pace and gradient and so our future programme could just work.

It was a still mostly intact peloton that passed through the first of the villages on the climb, not that the gradient let up at all. No, if anything it was starting to ramp up a bit, around us gears were dropped and a few experimental leg stretches suggested some of our fellow competitors were thinking about the mountain points available a couple of K above us. Of course our speed was now down to the teens, it’ll likely drop to single figures further up, the good news is that even a small increase can start causing issues further back.

Our combined troops were still just about keeping a lid on things as we entered the next village, the spotty jersey had made his way forward, marked by a couple of Curly Vasquez’ team. As we hit the next ramp the pace dropped quickly and Mikel pulled Geth away from the bunch quite quickly. Of course they weren’t the only escapees, a small group of about half a dozen slipped away, a couple more gave belated chase before Curly launched himself after them.

Well it was expected and Josh was ready, I was glued to his rear wheel as we started the pursuit. A pursuit made somewhat easier even on the ten percent plus slopes as Curly seemed to be not firing on all cylinders allowing us to tag on quite quickly. Most of the climb gave a good view ahead, maybe not so good for riding but it did mean we could see what was happening with the leaders all of a hundred metres ahead.

 

We weren’t actually trying to pull back Mikel and Geth but it doesn’t hurt to look like you are. The road twizzled about a bit and we lost sight of our quarry for a minute or so, a minute during which Geth set off to secure more spotty points. By the time we could see up the road again it was pretty much all over and whilst a couple of the escapees were pushing on into the descent, the Schauff jerseys were soft pedalling, job done.

The gap was swiftly closed and a small bunch of ‘contenders’ started the more technical drop together. Not that Dad wanted us to do much more than get down safely, time enough for heroics later. Of course its easy to get carried away when you are having fun and descending at speed is fun, net result was a close call on one of the ‘pins and the leaders caught well before we were off the mountain.

At the bottom we poured out onto a wider road with gradient still heading the right way, ie down and the pace remained relatively high.

“You get it?” I asked as Geth slipped alongside.
“Second, that little kid got a couple of lengths out of me.”
“Still good points,” I er, pointed out.
“I guess, still need a few more to tie it up,” he mentioned with a hint of doubt in his voice.
“Cinch,” I told him, ”we just have to stop short stop scoring.”
“Yeah.”

Three more summits and the finale, up to fifty points on the table, a breakaway group could mop most of those up and snatch the jersey, yep no chance of easing up on that effort.

 

It wasn’t far down the valley before the rest of the peloton came up to us, not so much sweeping us up as sucking us in. Of course we were back out under the glare of the almost midday sun, the heat quite evident after the rapid descent through the trees. As far as I could see all the gang are here so the plan is still intact, well I think it is.

“This looks familiar,” Lor suggested.
“You mean like hot and sun bleached,” I proposed.
“No silly, I’m sure I’ve seen that hotel place we just passed before.”

My head snapped round to look – well you do don’t you?

“The place with the motorbike?”
“Yeah,” she agreed.
“Probably loads of ‘em, there’s that place up at Altenahr all the bikers go to.”
“With the same motorbike outside?”
I gave a shrug, “maybe.”
“Feed in about ten,” Josh told us as he joined our little enclave.
“Already? we’ve only done one climb.”
“Yeah but we’ll have about fifty done,” he mentioned.
“I guess,” I allowed.

 

We swept down the valley, no one in the bunch seemingly interested in making a move which was fine by me, every kilometre without action is another kilometre closer to the finish without extra effort – a state I’m all for. I took the opportunity to get some food down and empty a bidon, yes I know the feed station is coming up, you need somewhere to put the stuff you collect, well I’ll probably eat my sandwich straight off but you get the idea.

Gret and Daz moved forward, they’re on what Dad calls ‘Jankers’ today, that is food collection duty, Claire and Sal are doing the honours for Schauff. When the bunch is intact like today it makes sense, you risk fewer riders in the meleé and its easier for the ground crew too. Empty bottle in pocket, keep on the outside of the bunch, jobs a good ‘un.

It was as we passed a board suggesting the feed was a kilometre further on that we swept across a bridge into Santestaban, hang on didn’t we come through here on that mad training ride on Monday? So Lor was right about that hotel place then. Through the town, over a second bridge and out into more blasted countryside, a clutter of flags and parked vehicles marking the start of the feed zone.

Our catering department sprinted off the front to give themselves more space, pursued by several intense riders including Curly. It was comical really when musettes were claimed and with practised disdain and casual hands free skill they were sorted and slung over heads, the pursuers of the ‘break’ weren’t sure what to do. From my vantage at about twentieth wheel it was clear they thought we were breaking etiquette by attacking at the feed, I’m pretty sure none of them collected food parcels – hmm, useful.

 

“Here you go Gabs,” Darren slipped my bag off and passed it over.

Placing the strap around my neck I sat up to check and transfer the contents, cheese and tomato sarnie, fresh bottle of course and a selection of other easy to eat snacks plus, oh yeah a bag containing a handful of gummy bears. I poked a hole in that one and treated myself to a small sugar hit before finishing the transfer.

“You an’ them bear things,” Josh mentioned with a shake of his head.
“Well you have those glucose things,” I pointed out, “they are horrid.”
“If you say so hen, about five K to the next climb.”
“Oh joy,” I sighed.

Pass number two, tougher than the first and the climb Dad’s pinned as the likely spot for a concerted attack.

“Guess we’d best be ready for the action then, I’ll let you lose this,” I handed my musette off to him which he took with a wry grin and shake of his head.

 

Maddy Bell © 02.05.2018

 

 

According to the route card its called the Passo de Egüés, by the time we reached the first set of hairpins I was calling it something else altogether! Whilst I was expecting someone to make a move I wasn’t expecting it before we even got onto the climb. It was a subtle thing, the village at the bottom has a couple of awkward turns and I found myself in the wrong place at the first of them.

I didn’t think anything of it at first, we were still all together – ish but after the second I realised I was on the wrong side of a split, a small gap but gap enough when Curly, the little climber and most of the rest of the GC contenders were up there. Sugar. Not only that but they were clearly aware of my absence as they’d put the hammer down.

Don’t panic girl, we have a plan, don’t we?

“J!”

Of course my guardian was already at my shoulder.

“Already on it hen.”
“We were all together an’ then there was a gap an then they were attacking an’.”
“Whoa calm down girl, we’ll get them back.”

 

It’s amazing how quickly the gap had grown, those on the front of our group either unable or unwilling to give chase. Looking at the jersey’s I suspected the latter, well I guess we aren’t the only ones with a game plan and we are the foreign invaders I suppose. Our troops were quickly organised, a couple of the French riders threw in with us too, perhaps keen to get something back from the previous days working over by the Spaniards.

The gradients were at least in single figures on these lower slopes and once organised the gap to the dozen or so riders ahead stabilised at something like twenty five seconds. Doesn’t sound much but they were having a serious go at things, already Vasquez is in Green on the road, it really is all on us now. The lads were putting in some big turns, the rest of us having to work to stay in contact.

Biggest problem for us is the huge anchor of the rest of the peloton sat in our wheel tracks. Which brings us to the ‘pins.

“Feck,” Sal gasped out as the ladder of turns came into view, ”how far does it go up?”
“Couple of K I think,” I allowed between my own slightly laboured breaths.
“I’m gonna have to bail,” she admitted.

Josh must’ve overheard us as he dropped back.

“Can you hang through the first bend like?”
“I guess,” Sal allowed.

Josh accelerated forward again.

“What’s he up to?”
“No idea,” I shrugged back.

 

Well it was genius, well I think so anyhow. Next thing Daz, Gret and Mikel come back and slide in behind me and Sal. By the time we got through the following turn things were all set, Josh motioned me onto his wheel and that was it. Our mobile roadblock prevented easy pursuit up the steep grades and although reduced in numbers we broke clear and started to peg back the lead group.

The gap slowly closed and once again we were glad of the tree cover on the climb. With a kilometre to the summit we were almost in spitting distance although we’d lost one of the Frenchies, Tal and Laura. Not that the front runners were intact, several had come back through our pursuit, only one managing to hang on to us as Josh and Jamie powered us upwards.

They must’ve been aware that we we were close nevertheless when Geth sprinted up to and past them in sight of the line they seemed caught off guard. The confusion it caused helped us left behind, so although Geth’s climbing rival gave chase no one else did. Mand pipped me to the top just a couple of lengths behind Curly, at least it won’t be a stupid downhill chase now.

In fact after all the effort going up the descent became almost a procession, it wasn’t a particularly technical or steep run off and we’ve still got another pass and the final assault, no one wanted to waste energy. At the ‘bottom’ we turned to follow a valley down past a reservoir, the sun glinting off the blue waters a welcome change to all the trees.

Down a steep ramp and through a tunnel I almost jumped out of my skin when a familiar voice greeted me.

“Gotcha!” Tal gasped.
“Geez, you made me jump.”

 

“What’re you up to now?” Tal queried a little further down the valley, things were still quite calm, a few more riders had managed to bridge to us on the way down including Mikel and Daz.
“Just wondering what green nails will look like,” I told her as I inspected my fingertips.
“Green?”
“Well they have to match my jersey tomorrow.”
“Sometimes Gaby Bond,” she sighed.
“A girl has to look her best.”
“Whatever, you need another bidon?”
“Best have, this one is like luke warm bathwater.”
“I’ll be back.”

With that she slipped back from the head of affairs on her rehydration mission to the team car.

 

At the next proper village we turned again, the relatively small Passo del Agoretta almost immediately having everyone flipping down the gears. The climb might only be just over three kilometres but there are some steep ramps in there to get to the summit. When shorty launched an attack into the hairpins two thirds of the way up Mikel led the pursuit, Geth on his wheel, the mountains classification still open even after G took maximum points on the Egüés.

A furtive glance revealed Vasquez apparently arguing with one of his cohorts, I wasn’t going to bother but with only about five hundred to the summit I sprinted clear of the group and went into TT mode. Of course I wasn’t aiming to catch those in front, but any spotty points are good and if it makes Curly do some extra work I’ll do it. The summit was on a false flat, always a let down as you have to keep pedalling over the top, I was unsurprised when not just Curly Vasquez but several others came up to me.

The look the Spaniard gave me was one of pure venom, clearly he doesn’t like being played. We might be over the pass but although we dropped for a couple of K we then started several kilometres of what Dad had called earlier, ‘bobbly’ road, that is up and down, nothing major but enough with the twisty route to keep the bunch fairly well stretched. Not that the peloton was that big this far into the stage, maybe sixty riders but even so its a long tadpole.

The countryside opened out from forest to stony fields with the occasional cow or at one point, herd of goats although my main point of interest was Curly’s back wheel. It was certainly warm out in the open and there is more of the same up to the finish, have to ration the bidon.

 

“Alright man?” Josh asked as we started a longer straight descent.
“Yeah, bit warm,” I observed.
“You alreet for wet like?”
“Getting a bit low,” I allowed.
“Here, swap,” he told me pulling his one of his own bottles free from its holder.
“What about you?”
“I’ll do, come on hen.”

When he puts it like that what can I do? We quickly exchanged bidons and returned our attention to the job in hand.

“We still on plan A?”
“Ah reckon, if Geth points on the pass its his, just don’t want anyone away over’t top.”
“Fingers crossed.”
“Aye.”

 

Down below I could see our road running arrow straight through the fields before disappearing into woodland a couple of K further on, just as Caro told us. Not far now then, I reached for a gummi bear, it might not be much but its comforting to get that sugar hit. I checked around me, what’s left of Apollinaris and Schauff are all in fairly close order, Tiny, Curly, the better couple of Frenchies, yep, just as expected.

We reached the valley floor and turned towards the ‘Francia’ border, according to the sign, twenty kilometres away, not that we go quite that far but we get about five more than that to reach our summit finish. I nervously took a slug from Josh’s bidon, I guess this is it, tomorrow is just a show, the next hour will decide the race. I caught Geth’s eye and gave him the nod, he stretched a cramped hand in reply, well not really but it looked like that was what he was doing.

We passed through the last sizeable village this side of the mountain and with Jamie and Mikel riding point, Geth moved up, the pace increasing to help deter escapees. Josh sat behind Curly, Daz, Mand then me in close attendance behind. The pace was steady but relentless, up through the first hairpin then the road ramped up more steeply and things just flew apart. Titch attacked, Vasquez started to follow but after just a few metres blew big style, that in turn caused our group to hesitate a moment which allowed others to get past.

Ahead, Geth and Titch were matching each other pedal stroke for pedal stroke, but clearly others had designs on the summit. Indeed several riders were now chasing the lead between us and Geth, Mikel and Jamie now dangling between us. Whilst position over this climb isn’t a priority, too many riders ahead may be a danger, even if Vasquez seems to be out of the immediate picture.

 

More hairpins separated by twisty stretches with stiff double figure ramps took us ever upwards through the trees. The Valcarlos Pass was proving to be quite brutal and first Daz then Mand slipped back. I followed Josh over the top in, I think, ninth place, the problem now is that some of those ahead haven’t read the script.

My minder checked I was still in attendance and turned his effort up to eleven, I’ll be on my own come the final assault. The road bounced about a bit as we headed down towards France, we caught Jamie and surprisingly Titch but ahead Geth was sat in behind the other Spaniards with Mikel. I took a quick look behind, riders were following in dribs and drabs, of Vasquez there was no sign.

“Ah’ll tek youse as far as I can hen, nearly on empty now like,” Josh admitted.
I dug in my pocket and pulled out what remained of my gummis, “reckon you need these more than me.”
“Aye,” he agreed taking the bag but returning a single bear, “just in case like.”
“Lets do this.”

it became a high speed chase down towards Valcarlos town, sweeping through the turns in the shelter of the big Toon, using all the road in our pursuit of both speed and the leaders. We gained a little but to have closed the gap we’d of needed to be going half as fast again as the seventy we touched on a couple of straighter bits. Waving flags and a cacophony of whistles alerted us to danger as we entered the town, one, then a second tight corner before having come to an almost complete stop to join the Azoleta road, the final destination of the day.

The climbing started immediately and viscously and poor old Josh stalled almost immediately. I went past, well this is it, all or nothing. The immediate twenty percent grade eased off to low teens which at least allowed a steady cadence even if it was at the bottom end of the gears.
Geth might’ve been doing his thang on the other climbs but this brute was too much and I went past an almost stopped Welshman just before the five K to go banner. Not that I was moving fast and I’m pretty sure I was losing ground on those still ahead. It was a more alpine landscape up here, the woodland interspersed with meadows sporting a few cattle and sheep behind the tapes.

A slightly flatter section allowed me to get in most likely my last drink of the ascent just after the three to go point. Up ahead I could just see the lead car’s flashing lights an agonizing distance above me, if the leaders are up there I’ve no chance. This calls for a last ditch effort, I retrieved that last gummi bear and slipped it between parched lips.

 

Kat caught me as I crossed the line exhausted almost to the point of delirium, quickly pressing a bottle to my lips.

“How?” I struggled out.
“Dunno girl, come on lets get you off that thing.”

I just surrendered to her ministrations as someone removed the bike from under me.

 

“So?” I asked Dad when he climbed into the Hymer some thirty minutes later.
“Good news and bad.”
“Sounds ominous Dave,” Kat opined breaking from her soigneur duties with Mikel for a moment.
“Well they’ve confirmed Mikel for the stage, officially its a tyre.”
“And the bad,” I asked already with a sinking feeling.
“Fraid you’re out of Green kiddo, the Sanchez lad has it by thirty one seconds.”
“Guess that's it then,” I sighed, “’grats on the stage Mikel.”
“Thanks Gaby, but it is not over, there is tomorrow still.”
“He’s right kiddo,” Dad agreed, “its not a big gap.”
“But its a crit Dad.”
“And what did you cut your racing teeth doing?”
“Yeah but I was like twelve then.”
“So it wasn’t you winning earlier this year then?”
“I guess.”
“And you’ll have the advantage of not being in the leaders jersey,” Kat added.

 

“So the green nails are out then?” Tali posed as we started the journey back to Pamplona.
“Oh I don’t know, I’ll need to be co ordinated for the final presentation.”
She rolled her eyes, “I suppose that means we’ve got to take tomorrow seriously then.”
“You betcha!”
 

Maddy Bell © 04.05.2018

 

 

Whilst our ride back to Pamplona did retrace our route over the last two passes it was then only another twenty kilometres back to the hostel, certainly not the convoluted pass grabbing roads that we used earlier. It was certainly a mixed set of emotions on the bus, a stage win for Mikel, the mountains jersey confirmed for Geth but on the flip side I’ve lost the overall lead (although I do get to wear the pink and green jersey of girls race leader tomorrow). The really weird thing is that I’m not even too disappointed, after all, we won’t be defending the jersey and as Dad pointed out, we are quite good at the very much more controlled discipline of criterium racing.

The other bonus is a later start and less travelling – well until we’ve done, Dad is keen to get away sharp so we aren’t too late at our overnight hotel up at Bordeaux.

 

“Gab,” a hand shook my shoulder, “we’re back.”
“Swhat?” I enquired cracking an eye open.
“We’re back at the hostel,” Claire repeated.

Okay, so I fell asleep, its been a hard day.

“’Kay,” I allowed, stretching before clambering out of the bus behind her.
“Dirty gear in the basket when you come to dinner,” Angela instructed, “bike kit only please.”

Dang, have to do everything else when we get home.

 

“You alright Gab?”
“Shouldn’t I be?” I queried right back.
“You can be quite competitive,” Manda pointed out.
“nd?” I smiled in reply.
“You’re plotting something.”
“Might be,” I allowed.
“Come on then, spill.”
“After dinner, bags the shower.”

I edged closer to the bathroom door.

“Urgh! Had again, don’t be too long eh.”
“Quick as a flash! Cheers.” I dived through the door and closed it behind to claim my cleansing water.

 

Of course we had to celebrate Mikel’s stage win, Caro had located some fizzy wine in a local supermarket so we toasted our temporary team mate over the chicken macaroni with green salad that someone had substituted for dinner. Dad took a long shot bringing him in but he’s repaid that in spades, always in the thick of things and his performance today should raise his profile with the Spanish authorities. So we raised a glass to today and another to tomorrow – well it was hardly alcoholic was it?

After eating, Dad had us adjourn to a quiet corner outside to go over stage four, the centrepiece and grand finale of this week’s race.

“So guys,” he started, “nearly there. Two stage wins, both mountains classifications, well done you two and barring disaster tomorrow a spot on the final podium. Oh and of course we fill all three steps for the girls, not bad for a bunch of rejects eh? One thing’s for sure you’ve taken the racing to the rest, it might not all have gone to plan but we are the envy of the other teams. However I reckon we can go that bit further, claim that top step overall, everyone up for that?”
Mikel raised an arm, “But Senõr Bond we have only the circuits tomorrow.”
“And how do you race circuits Mikel?” Dad asked.
The Spaniard considered his reply, “i guess we ride for an hour then sprint for the finish?”
“Which is exactly what everyone is expecting tomorrow but what we won’t be doing,” Dad told him.
“Senõr? But it is the way.”
“Not where your team mates come from Mikel and if Senõr Sanchez or Senõr Vasquez want to take the honours they’ll have a steep learning curve.”
“Senõr?”
“He means they’ll have to learn quickly,” Claire told the boy from Seville.
“Ah,” he allowed still wearing a slightly confused look.
“You’ll soon catch on man,” Josh supplied.
“Hut hmm,” Dad interrupted, “if I could?”
“Er sorry Boss.”
“Right, if this is going to work we have to play them at their own game as well as ours, we need twenty one seconds minimum so here’s the plan….”

 

“You think it’ll work?” Mand queried as we lay in the heat of our room – how do the locals ever get to sleep?
“What other choice is there? Its not like there’s a mountain to attack on.”
“True, but from the gun?”
I gave a shrug – not that she could see it in the gloom, “if I can get the lap it’ll be game over.”
“Only if they don’t get one back.”
“Which is where you guys come in,” I smarmed.
“Couldn’t we do it with, I dunno, ten to go?”
“Doubt I could get the time and hold it, they’ll be warming up for the finale then,” I pointed out.
“I guess,” she sighed.
“Come on Mand, if you guys distract them I’ll be away and back in the pack before you know it.”
“If you say so.”
“Confidence girl,” I told her with more of the same than I really felt. Lets face it, if the gambit fails that’ll be it, I won’t get a second chance and….no that's defeatist talk.
“Think I’m gonna get a cold shower, I’ll never get to sleep as hot an’ sweaty as this.”
“Great idea, might join you, I mean have a shower too, not like with you or anything,” I gabbled.
“Gab, I know what you meant, not that I’m against sharing but I know you don’t bat for my side.”
“I didn’t mean...oh bugger.”
“Don’t sweat it, look I wasn’t gonna say anything but well, I’m sort of seeing someone.”
“You are?”

And so we spent the next hour or so getting those showers and discussing Mand’s potential love life.

 

Having done the pep talk stuff last night, breakfast was a bit more relaxed than the last few days, well the later start helped too. In fact I got as far as three cups of coffee, well okay the cups aren’t that big but it is extra caffeine.

“Okay everyone,” Caro called for our attention, “you’ve got an hour before we go down to the town, I suggest case packing might be a good idea, we will be back here for showers but we really do need to get away sharp, Gab?”
“Are we eating after? We usually get dinner.”
“Angela is doing some sandwiches and stuff for after, we’ll eat properly up the road. Okay?”

Well I’d prefer our usual post race blow out but we don’t usually have a day and a half travelling after.

“Guess,” I allowed.
“Right, nine thirty out front.”

 

It might be the junior tour but the organisers have given us a couple of support races, by the time we reached the centre the first one was already underway. We’ll get circuit time before we race of course but Dad packed us all off to have a walk around – seeing how others ride the circuit might just give us an edge in the race I guess.

“Some of these corners are well dodgy,” Sal opined.
“Not many, hundred twenty and cobbles,” Daz added.
“You're forgetting its barely two bikes wide,” Geth complained.
“Need to be up front to keep out of trouble,” Tal told us.
“Spanish crits all like this Mikel?” Mand asked our Iberian guest.
He shrugged, “some are more open, others more like this.”
“Ah can see why they leave it to the finish like,” Josh mentioned.

Sure enough the mixed masters / ladies race was following just that pattern – not a procession, they were certainly racing just not attacking. The circuit is a classic kilometre split between the main ‘square’ and a sort of knobble that takes in a few of the ‘quaint’ back streets. I suppose in reality its not much different to some of the circuits back home in Germany and we do alright in them.

 

“So?” Dad asked when we got back to the shared team area.
“Lose a bit of pressure or we’ll be bouncing all over,” I suggested.
“Glad its not wet like,” the Toon noted.
“Duh!” Mand stated pointing at the cloud free blue sky above us.
“Was just saying,” he clarified.
“Anyone else?” Dad queried.

No one else had anything to add so whilst the mechanic-ing team attended to tyre pressures we all started our pre race prep. Kat and Angela came round to smother us in sun screen, might be a bit late now but it can’t hurt. We didn’t bring enough Turbo’s for everyone to use at the same time, well just two actually so I collared one as soon as my bike was ready, the others will do a less structured warm up on the circuit.

 

It might seem a bit daft to expend so much energy on the pre race warm up but especially today, if the plan is to work I need to be running hot at the start, there won’t be two or three laps grace. I was soon lost in the metronomic state of a steady cadence, nothing too sweat inducing but enough to thoroughly warm the ol’ muscles – at least that ‘tear’ I had seems to have sorted itself out.

“Time Bond,” Gret advised as she threw the towel at me.
“Already?”
“If you want to get on the circuit, the second race has about five laps to go.”
“Right,” I started to ease my effort down whilst using the towel to mop some of the sweat off both me and the bike.
“Good, you’re already done,” Dad stated joining us, “you putting a dry bra on?”
Oh the joys of womanhood, “I’d best,” I agreed plucking at my soggy sports bra.

 

It still seems a weird way to end the ‘tour’, the other stages have been quite testing but I guess this is sort of the equivalent of the Paris procession at the end of the Tour de France. That pretty much always ends up as a big sprint with the event winner just sitting in for the day. Well if the Spaniards are expecting the same sort of thing this afternoon they’re about to get a rude awakening.

I joined the others on the circuit, we managed five laps before we were called in so they can do the pre stage intros and stuff. Its a diversion I could do without, especially today but I guess its the same for everyone else. And it is the last one this week and I guess if the crowd know who’s out there riding I might get some encouragement during the race.

The MC started things off with the likes of Curly Vasquez, no longer in the running for the overall but as National champion clearly a favourite for the win today. Then it was the turn of the various ‘in’ race jerseys to be presented before winding things up with all three main podium riders getting interviewed. Of course when it came to me it was a bit short, a mixture of German, English and Spanish doesn’t work particularly well.

Before me of course there was the lad in third, one of the French lads, another thirty eight seconds behind me but only a couple in front of a big group including Mikel, Josh, Geth and Curly. Of course the new Green jersey wearer, Juan Louis Sanchez himself, had longest with the mic thrust in his face as the MC enthused about the almost certain Spanish win of the overall. But finally it was over and we were allowed to return to our bikes, departure just a ‘warm up’ lap away.

“That went on a bit,” Tal mentioned as we made our way around the circuit a last time before the race.
“Can’t miss anyone out,” Mand offered.
“You’re quiet Gab,” Daz observed.
“She’s getting in the zone man,” Josh told him.
“We all ready for this?” Gret asked.
“If we’re not its too late now,” Geth stated.
I took a deep breath as we approached the last corner, “right, lets do this.”

 

Maddy Bell © 08.05.2018

 

 

The circuit, I think I mentioned, is quite narrow which played to our plan quite nicely, especially as the Spaniards seemed quite happy for the stupid foreigners to fill the front of the grid. There was a bit more rattle from the MC, then the Mayor had his two penn’ath before a klaxon was sounded and we were off. There was of course the usual cacophany of cleats being engaged and some cheering from the crowd – I was already clipped in having leant against Josh to wait the start.

It wasn’t like the others were deliberately going slow, they just didn’t make a big effort to get away quickly. On the other hand I took off like a blue arsed fly, I had about twenty metres by the first turn. Not that there was time to contemplate anything, I locked my attention on the road and just hammered it.

With all the turns, getting a steady time trial like cadence wasn’t going to happen instead its a case of max power, brake, sprint, brake – well you get the idea. Of course with so many turns even a quite modest lead means you are out of sight fairly quickly which is what we’re banking on today – yep, out of sight, out of mind. I concentrated hard and being on my own was able to use the whole road to get the best lines through those tight cobbled streets.

The longer, wider straights of the main square allowed me to temporarily get in a bit of a tuck and the smoother surface saw me touching fifty K on the slight downhill through the start / finish area. My arrival clearly caught the MC unawares as his gabble went from fill in mode to full on excitable. Well that's my surprise element blown, there might not be screens to give me away but instead he’ll be telling the soon to be chasers every detail of my progress.

Race length is forty kilometres, forty laps that is so about an hour and a half, my computer was showing just two minutes twenty elapsed. I did my best to shut out all the distractions around the circuit and just gave it everything – Dad reckons I can take the lap in five at full gas, i’m not so sure. You might wonder why i’m on my own, why Josh isn’t up here with me, well apparently that’d draw attention to my absence – it’d still be nice to have some help.

 

Meanwhile, as they say, back in the peloton.

“You reckon she’ll do it?” Claire asked of Manda.
“If anyone can its our Gab.”
“I guess, on the right!”

Daz reacted and slotted onto the would be chasers wheel. Oh the ruse had worked fine until they returned to the square, whatever the MC was spouting had most definitely alerted the competition to the lack of Gaby. It did allow part two of the plan to go pretty much unheeded, well girls just can’t race this fast can they?

 

Next time through the pit area Dad had the chalk board out, thirty eight seconds, well I guess that's on schedule. Unlike the somewhat sparse support on the previous stages, today we’ve attracted a quite vociferous crowd. I might not be Spanish but I am a tiny girly which apparently makes up for the former, enough that I was cheered on throughout the laps, the plucky girl taking it to the lads.

You’d think a five kilometre effort would be easy after the hundred kilometre plus stages we’ve already done. The reality is that this is much more intense and the constant changes in pace make it harder than a time trial. A lap later and Dad’s board read fifty nine, my rate of advantage has dropped, clearly there has now been some reaction to my absence.

 

When a lap later the gap had closed to fifty seven it was a bit of a blow, here I am dangling in no mans land, my chances of success are in the balance. We did discuss this last night, how the chasers would be heartened at closing the gap but would they react as expected? Well no point in trying to second guess things, i’ve still got a race to win.

I kept plugging away, lap four, lap five.
“twenty!” Dad called out despite holding his board reading fifty three.

The next lap then, oh I know I said five laps before but that would be perfect world, no Dad is a master at this stuff, reading the opposition, knowing his own riders strengths and planning accordingly. It doesn’t always work of course but he’s got a pretty good success rate. I dug a bit deeper, the grimace on my face being replaced by a wry grin as I thought about what was about to go down.

 

It took me most of that lap but suddenly there they were, Tal and Gret on the straight ahead of me. In most crits if you are lapped you get pulled out, there’s no chance of taking that lap back but as its a stage of a longer event that rule isn’t being enforced today. Yeah, in theory they still aren’t supposed to give assistance but if we happen to be riding at a similar speed…..

The girls had of course easily slipped back, maybe a little quicker than others finding the pace a little testing, but it wasn’t like they’d stopped to wait. I purposely held off making the connection until we were through the finish area – well we don’t want to raise suspicion with the judges do we?

“Heya,” I allowed as I passed them.
“’bout time Bond,” Gret complained.
“You need a breather?” Tal enquired seeing me freewheel to take a drink.
“Nah, lets get on, after you.”
“Come on then,” Gret sighed as she led Tal back past me.

We couldn’t do a full on rotation but I could sit in behind their rotation which, after being on my own for nearly seven laps, was a huge relief. It wasn’t that we were going slower even, if my comp is to be believed we actually upped the pace, but just that bit of shelter is enough to make all the difference. Ahead of us I could see more back markers, the key to our scheme’s success.

 

“She’s on!” Mand enthused seeing Dave Bonds ‘OK’ sign as they went past the pit area again.
“’bout time like,” Josh mumbled echoing Gret’s comment a lap or so before.

So far they’d managed to contain all the reaction, the Schauff guys legitimately giving a helping hand. That said they were getting to the point where a more concerted and organised attack would be difficult to counter. Gab’s lead was still hovering around the minute mark but that will hopefully change in the right direction now.

 

The good thing about backmarkers is their ability to act as stepping stones and indeed carrots to those coming from behind. With the Luchow / Schmidt tandem doing most of the work we soon started to reel those stepping stones in. Of course they were mostly the less capable girls to start with but when we caught a lad I recognised as being top twenty on GC, a puncture victim, we had the start of a train.

With each lap now, Dad was showing us, well me really, moving further ahead of the chasers. It was around mid distance that we rejoined the rear of the peloton, yes! I looked for Sanchez and co but couldn’t see them or several of my friends. Joining the back of the bunch is one thing, moving through it another, it was best part of another lap before I and my companions got up to Mand.

“You made it,” she grinned.
“Yeah,” I allowed, “where’re the others?”
“Chasing down Sanchez, they went about a lap before you got on.”

Sugar. Of course it was always a possibility, well lets face it, it was almost inevitable really. Oh I know i’ve got a lap in hand, about two minutes or so, but they don’t have to take the lap back to throw a spanner in. all that effort and its still uncertain.

 

The chasers had made rapid progress to start with, according to Dad’s board forty seconds in just a couple of laps. We do have Josh, Jamie, Mikel, Geth and Daz in there, yup all five lads are up there but even with them policing things there is only so much you can do. Meanwhile its left the fairer sex, that's the girls, to control what’s left of the race, talk about messy and complicated.

We were lapping at a good speed, maybe not quite as fast as I was to get the lap but it was still quite intense. I’m sure the lads were doing their best but we were steadily losing ground, a few seconds each lap – if they get too close they’ll smell blood and all that effort could be for nought. That is so not going to happen!

“Mand!” I hissed.
“Wassup?”
“You up for a bash?”
“As in attack?”

I nodded around my bidon.

“Guess so, what’s the plan?”

 

After setting things up it seemed like an age before the crucial launch time, go too early and we might still lose out, too late well not helpful. No, just like their own countermove it needs to be timed for maximum effect, we aren’t trying for a lap just to be clear of the bunch when they arrive.

“You ready girlfriend?” Mand asked as we crossed the line with five to go.
“As i’ll be, you?”
“I’ll do.”

By Dad’s last time check they’ll be on this bunch imminently, its now or never I guess.

“Next turn then,” I panted.

We’d been sitting about fifth / sixth wheel for a couple of laps, the rest of team ‘Gaby wins’ a bit further back as they’ll be running interference on the chasers. We aren’t even bothered if others get on with our escape, all that matters is that we are clear by some margin. I gave those behind the signal and took a deeper breath as we braked for the 120° turn.

Then it was out of the saddle to get on Mand’s wheel, a clatter of gears behind suggested we might get some company, just because they’d missed the break doesn’t mean those in this group lack ambition. The initial impetus opened a few metres of gap, a gap which was crossed in short order by a French lad and a couple of ‘locals’. Gift horses and all that, Mand continued into the narrow lanes at full gas before assistance came through.

 

“Come on Gab!”
“Up, up, up!”
“Dig in Mand!”

Yeah our pit crew were giving their enthusiastic support, of course they’ve been doing that all race, there will be some sore throats later. The board said twenty three but I wasn’t quite sure what that referred to, our lead over the bunch, the chasers deficit to the bunch or quite what? Whatever it means its not a lot and I want more.

I might be a lap in front of these guys but they seemed quite keen to not be caught by the others which added impetus to their, our efforts. All five of us were contributing to a fast rotation - at least on the better paved bits, the crowd and the MC seemed a little unsure about what was happening. They were still cheering but maybe less enthusiastically, I just hope the judges are a bit more aware.

A quick glance behind suggested ‘Team Gaby’ had, at least for now, contained any further pursuit as we had half the length of the finishing straight clear. Four to go, we can do this. I took a last draft from my bidon, it would have to be the last as it was now empty, i’m sure I can survive the last eight or nine minutes without another wet.

This time when we passed Dad the board just said C – the chase has caught the main bunch, question now is how quickly will they notice my absence. If they are content to just sit in at the back they’ll get the same time as the front of the group – plus their lap of course. But if they realise i’m missing, well they could potentially steam through and give chase, our lead isn’t huge and could easily be overturned.

 

Our little train continued chugging along with intent and by the time we’d done the lanes it seems the MC had worked out what was going on, good news, we got more support from the crowd, bad news, our chasers get informed of the situation. The board read thirty three this time, half a minute, its enough if we can keep it but that's a big if. Mand gave me a worried look, I answered with a shrug, what can we do?

 

Little did I know that there were things going on behind to help. Whilst everyone in the bunch will score the same seconds that only applies if there isn’t any gaps, if there are you get the time of the first rider in the next unbroken string and so on. The girls had a plan, so far the lappers were just sitting on the back, the lads had failed to prevent the connection, it was down to girl power now.

 

Ding, ding, ding!

One lap to go, twenty six seconds, talk about knife edge. My companions are flagging, i’m flagging, there’s nothing left in tank, I felt in a pocket, yay, two gummi bears! I popped them into my maw, there’s no way they’ll do anything at this point but in my head they were giving me that bit extra. Tired legs pounded over the cobbles again, come on Bond, you can do it.

No board this time, well i’m sure Dad’s legged it to the finish, and then we were into the final straight.

“Good ride Gab,” Mand allowed.
“You too.”

I sat up allowing my companions to draw away, they’d have to do the last lap but at least they won’t count as being lapped. I kept pedalling though, a quick straighten of my jersey, check behind, no one close, arms in the air and a final air punch at the line. Two stages, if i’ve failed to get the overall, i’ve failed in style.

Spotting Dad I rolled to a stop to be engulfed by not just Pater but Caro, Kat, Angela and yes Daz joined in too. I broke the hugs and turned to watch the clock as the rest of the peloton sped towards us. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen – they’re gonna do it, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen and the dream was over, Sanchez gave his own air punch as he rolled in mid bunch.

I sagged into Angela’s arms, tears arriving unbidden as she hugged me, so close, just three measley seconds. If I hadn’t sat up, if i’d given it a bit more welly earlier. I started to sob, deep wracking sobs, I’ve failed, I’m useless.

 

Maddy Bell © 11.05.2018

 

 

“Why aren’t they announcing the result?” Lor asked no one in particular.

Why indeed, I finished fifteen minutes ago, it shouldn’t take this long. In fact Dad’s gone to find out while we all wait impatiently for the presentations to start. And yes I had my crying jag but I’m over that now right?

“Anyone got a drink?” I requested.
“Hen,” Josh passed me a can of cola, not great but better than nowt.
“Cheers.”
Mand tugged my elbow, “your dad’s back.”
“Dave?” Caro enquired.
“The comissaires are still locked away,” he advised.

 

It was another ten minutes before the now restless crowd and like all the participants were addressed by the MC.

“What’s he saying Mikel?” Claire asked our man from Sevilla.
“He apologises for the delay,” Lamba junior translated, “the judges were checking the rules and the films?”
“Photo finish I’m guessing,” Geth suggested.
“Si,” Mikel agreed, “then he says today was exciting and unexpected.”
“No shit Sherlock,” Daz suggested.

 

Eventually they did get onto the presentations, first of course todays race, I couldn’t understand a word but smiled at the right times and suffered not one but two officials bussing my cheeks, yeuk. Then it was the ‘minor’ jerseys, then the girls result before the ‘main’ event. I got the spotty jersey of course, well we already knew that but whilst we claimed all the podium steps we were a bit taken aback when it wasn’t quite the trio we’d expected. Indeed, Laura claimed third behind Tal and Mand – what about me? what’s going on?

“Dad?”
“I’ll find out kiddo,” he set off to talk to the officials.

Well of course I cheered my friends even if I was a bit non plussed, I mean, I must’ve won it by a mile, Mand was like a couple of minutes behind before today. I’m sure Dad’ll sort them out.

Geth was called to the stage for his presentation, the pride and joy on his face a joy to see. The rest of us whooped and cheered loudly, its not just the Spanish who can make a noise. As Geth descended after his presentation the MC started rabbiting again, you don’t need a translation, its always the same at this point, exciting race, stars of the future, blah de blah. The crowd hushed in anticipation.

“En tercer lugar, Juan Louis Sanchez, Team Regionale Catalonii!”

Huh? Sanchez only got third? But I thought he’d won, by the look on his face so did he.

The MC rattled on again before pausing,“Y en segunda posición, Mikel Lamba, Schauff Cyclo!”

Well that was unexpected. I know he was sitting quite high on GC but how did he leapfrog Sanchez? Mikel took to the stage with a grin even wider than Geth’s had been. Have they sanctioned me for something? Who has won? And where’s Dad? All the hullabaloo on the stage quietened down somewhat and a crackle from the PA suggested the MC was about to start again.

“Por último, nuestro ganador, Gabriella Bond, Team Apollinaris!”

I stood rooted to the spot.

“Gab,” Lor mentioned jiggling my arm, “thats you!”
“Jamie?” Josh queried.
“Aye,” he agreed.

Suddenly I found myself plucked from the ground and hoisted skywards.

“Whaaa!”

The pair of them carried me shoulder height to the stage where I was unceremoniously delivered to some acclaim. I’ve won, I’ve won! Yee ha!

 

Well I don’t mind telling you, the next twenty minutes or so were a bit of an emotional roller coaster, joy, tears, confusion – well the whole nine yards. It wasn’t just me, Dad was walking ‘round grinning like a loon and whilst it wasn’t them on the podium, everyone else in our party was bouncing too. Lets face it, without everyone’s input and effort I wouldn’t have been able to claim the final Green jersey and their efforts all week have all gone towards our overall success.

In the end it came down to pedantic rules, my eighteen second margin today clearly didn’t cut it but the five seconds between Vasquez winning the chaotic sprint for second and Sanchez crossing the line in a group deemed separate tipped things. The official margin then, just two seconds, Mikel ending on the same seconds as he was in the first group with Curly, getting the drop on Sanchez on count back. Complicated eh but I’d take one second if it gave me the win.

 

“You got everything Gaby?” Angela queried poking her head around the door.
“Think so,” I allowed casting an eye around this week’s temporary abode.
“Manda gone down?”
“Yeah, just need a wee and I’ll be down.”
“Well don’t be too long, your dad’s keen to get off.”
“I won’t.”

She departed on her rounds and I headed for the bathroom. Sitting on the throne, my thoughts drifted from my purpose in being there to the days events. Yeah I still can’t believe how things turned out, I know we started with a plan to do just this but plans and reality have a habit of going their separate ways. Anything could’ve put a spoke in things today, a puncture or other mechanical, an off, even just a rain shower but no, the gods were looking after me today.

 

Mikel and Olivier departed to a forest of waving and goodbyes, they have their own journey to make back down to Seville some eight hundred K’s away, I think they’re stopping somewhere around Valladolid like us completing the journey tomorrow.

“Come on you lot, Darren’ll be in France before you lot get loaded at this rate,” Dad chivvied.

The same seating arrangement as we had coming down has been settled on, that is me, Josh and Tal in the BMW with Kat, Angela and Dad in the camper, Geth has gone with Darren in the bike van and everyone else is in the bus with Caro. We’ve only got about three hundred kilometres up to Bordeaux tonight but given its now after five we won’t be seeing dinner or our beds particularly early. Kat gunned the Bimmer into life and we were on our way.

It didn’t take many minutes to reach the Autopista Nivarro, the AP-15 and we were on our way.

“Penny for them,” Kat offered as we dropped towards San Seb and the coast.
“Eh, oh was just wondering what’s for dinner tonight.”
“Oh come on Gab, that wasn’t a food look.”

I checked into the back seat, Tal was laid over Josh and both were at least doing a fair impression of being asleep.

“So?” Kat prompted.
“Okay, I was thinking about Max.”
“Ahrtal’s prince of passion?”
“You what?”
“Er nothing, haven’t you been ringing him while we’ve been down here?”
“A couple of times, its hardly the same though.”
“So I guess you’re planning a grand reunion then?”
“Hardly grand,” I scoffed.
“Oo, something intimate.”
“Er don’t we turn here?” I suggested spotting Irun on the exit board.
“Oh sugar!”

Well it was hardly great roadcraft, a dive across two lanes, fortunately the slip road was quite a shallow turn.

“So romantic dinner then?”
“More like a romp in the vineyard,” I sighed.
“Thought your rents were okay with, you know?”
“Sort of, I mean they’re okay about Jules and Boris and Max does have Dad’s approval but its just too weird doing anything with them about.”
“Anything?”
“Kissing,” I stated.
“Wasn’t thinking anything else,” she tried to look innocent and failed.
“So what about you, no Mr Right for Katia Pinger?”
“Ha, chance’d be a fine thing, I’m hardly at home and just about all the men I meet on the circuit are old enough to be my father.”
“And there was me thinking you and George were the perfect match,” I giggled.
“Puh-lese!”

 

A comfort stop just after we crossed into France was taken then we returned to the near deserted A63. Kat stuck some music on but I was actually too tired for my usual karaoke session, even when she put in my Blau Hase disc. Not that I could actually sleep unlike Snow White and her prince snoring away in the back.

We weren’t staying in Bordeaux itself of course, no we’re staying on the Right Bank at the Ibis Floirac almost next to the ring road. We were of course the first to arrive, a little after eight, we passed Darren and Geth down Biarritz way, so we got check in honours again. By the time the others arrived I’d showered (again) and changed into a sundress, well manky shorts and camisole are hardly suitable for dinner are they?

The others were less concerned with protocol and filed into the restaurant straight off the bus just about. We were pre booked for the set menu, a three course affair, a thin soup, beef roulade and fruit salad to follow. It was reasonable fare, for a second night in a row we had some produce of the vine, we weren’t having a full on celebration, Caro was mumbling about doing something later in the week on that score.

We were getting coffee when Dad stood and addressed us.

“I know its been a funny day but in case I forget tomorrow I’ll say it now. I, no we, are really proud of you all this week, not just your riding which has been very mature – and successful but your behaviour generally. I think we all,” he glanced at the other adults who were variously nodding and so on, “have enjoyed being here with you, I’m sure Kat and Darren have had their fill of legs and bikes and Angela won’t want to see another loaf for a while but it really has been a pleasure.”

There was a bit of polite clapping before Caro stood.

“As Dave says, its been a pleasure working with you this week and across the summer. Personally I think BC are doing you all and themselves a disservice, you’ve shown everyone this week that you can compete and be successful on the international stage. Hopefully we’ll sort out something outside of BC for everyone who isn’t already set up and I look forward to working with you all again in the future. A toast then, to Dave Bond who has made all this happen, to Apollinaris who’ve been unstinting in their support and to you all for excelling.”

It sounded like a farewell speech, well I guess it is, the training camp ends this week, we race next weekend then the Brits go home. We raised our glasses and with saddened hearts gave the toast.

 

“Where are you?”
“Bordeaux.”
“You do know what the time is Gab?”
“Just turned eleven?”

I could hear him stifling a yawn.

“Don’t let me keep you up.”
“You’re not, I mean its been a long day, so how’d today go?”
“Okay I guess.”
“Just okay?”
“Well I did win.”
“Cool,” he gave a pretty solid yawn this time.
“If I bore you that much...”
“You don’t but Dad’s had me painting in the restaurant all day, I ache all over.”
“I’ll ring tomorrow.”
“When are you back?”
“Late tomorrow.”
“I could come down?” he offered.
“I said it’ll be late.”
“I don’t mind.”
“But I might, lets play it by ear eh?”

 

“That was short,” Mand opined.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “he reckons he’s tired.”
“It is turned eleven.”
“And?” I huffed.
“Whatever, lets get some sleep, I can’t believe we’re leaving at seven in the morning.”

 

Maddy Bell © 11.05.2018

 

 

Of course, departing at seven meant up at six for the excuse for breakfast – well it is France I guess, but even so coffee and pastries hardly cuts it. I can’t say that I was sorry to leave Bordeaux, its probably a lovely place but an out of town hotel and grotty breakfast didn’t dispose me well towards the place. Anyhow, with such meagre pickings we were all loaded and ready to depart some minutes before Dad’s departure deadline.

“You get all that?” Kat asked as we followed the Hymer out of the compound to start today’s odyssey.
“Think so,” I traced the route on the ‘map of France’ that’d been stuffed in the door pocket, “Brive, Clermont then down to Lyon where we pick up the thirty one which takes all the way up to the Duchy.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad when you put it like that.”
“It's not all autobahn,” I noted.
“Joy,” she sighed.

We soon picked up the signs for Brive/Glde which I guess is the place, our little convoy staying together until we joined the actual motorway shortly before crossing the Dordogne river at Libourne.

 

“Josh!” I pointed madly out of the window some fifty K later.
“What am ah looking at hen?”
“The sign.”
“Wharrabout it like?”
I rolled my eyes, “Bergerac?”
“So?”
Sometimes, and I’m the blonde, “that old cop show, you know, the one on Jersey?”
“That guy from Midsomer Murders? What about it?”
“Bergerac?” I hinted again.
“Not getting it lass.”
“I thought you said it was at the Kanalinseln?” Tali put in.
“It is, the programme is called Bergerac though,” I filled in.
“Ah, so not this Bergerac then?”

Gott, has she been taking Josh’s daft pills too?

“No, it was just the,” I sighed.
“Ah think its on RTL like,” Josh mused.
“Bergerac?” I queried.
“Midsomer Murders, crap dubbing, sounds nothing like him.”

I give in. The conversation in the back turned into a debate over the quality and quantity of imported, dubbed telly we get in Germany.

 

“Have to get fuel before Brive,” Kat noted a few kilometres further along.
I checked George’s road atlas, “there’re services at some place called Mansac, ‘bout sixty kilometres?”
“Nothing before?”
“Doesn’t show any, few parking areas but no fuel.”
“Guess it’ll have to do.”
“We could get some food,” I hinted.
“We stopping for food?” big ears in the back queried.
“Looks like it,” Kat allowed.

I did notice she took her foot off the go pedal a bit, maybe the fuel situation is a bit more critical than she let on.

 

Thirty minutes later I was surveying the menu in the Crócque, it wasn’t exactly bristling with breakfast fare.

“What yer having hen?” Josh enquired over my head.
“Why, you paying?”
“Ah walked into that one eh,” the Toon admitted.
“Was thinking cheese and ham toastie thing.”
“Go sit then,” he instructed.
“I was getting Kat’s too,” I pointed out.
“What does she want?”
“Same?”
He sighed, “go on, there’s a table by the window.”

 

The toasted sarnies were not brilliant despite being fresh but they did fill the space breakfast failed to. I risked the Thé rather than coffee, at least the French have a bit more idea of how to make a brew than the Germans – glass cups, eurgh! We didn’t stop long, just over thirty minutes I guess, but I think we were all feeling more awake when Kat eased us back onto the eastbound motorway.

We joined the northbound L’occitane for a bit before turning for a short bit of Route Nationale that links across to La Transeuropéenne aka the motorway towards Clermont Ferrand. The scenery changed to the combination of forest and rocky outcrops so typical of the Massif Central, at least it was something better to look at than the endless forest we had on the way down. Of course we aren’t stopping there, we’re pushing on another hundred and sixty K to Lyon where the convoy is stopping for lunch.

Well we did stop, but only for a wee and for Kat to get a few minutes out from behind the wheel. I took the opportunity to ring Dad, well of course Angela answered.

“Hi Ang, where are you?”
“Hang on, Dave, Gaby wants to know where we are?”

I couldn’t hear Dad’s reply so waited for her to relay the information.

“About fifty short of Clermont your dad says, where are you guys?”
“Er,” good question, answered by a board by the toilet block, “Aire L’Allier, its about ten K past Clermont.”
“I thought you were going to say you were at Lyon.”
“Nah, even Kat can’t drive that fast.”
There was some mumbling in the background, “your Dad says to remind you that we’re meeting at the Route de France services, they’re just off the motorway apparently, we should be there about two.”
“Okay, looks like Kat’s ready, see you in a couple of hours then, tschuss.”
“Tschuss Gaby.”

 

“Your Dad?” Kat enquired as I got back in the Bimmer.
“Yeah, they’re about half an hour behind us.”
“They must’ve stopped too,” she offered.
“Uh huh, should be at the services about two.”
She looked at the clock in the dash, “I should have time for forty winks when we get there then.”
“Might join you,” I suggested as we set off once more, the lovebirds still asleep on the back seat.

 

The weather was ranging from full on blue skies to that sort of muggy haze you sometimes get when its hot. Certainly the AC was earning its keep, the outside temperature was showing as thirty two C, a bit warmer than comfortable. At least the Autoroute was fairly quiet, no dodging HGV’s, just the occasional donkey wagon – why do they insist on using the oldest thing that will move and drive slower than their cargo could walk?

It seemed to take forever, the mileage barely dropping between signs, it was only after the four kilometre Violay tunnel that we suddenly seemed to make progress. The Route de France services were indeed off the motorway but not by much, we could see the pylon with Route de France before we got to the junction. Kat parked us under a tree a bit away from the restaurant complex and we settled down to await the others.

 

“How much further Dad?”
“About seven hundred kiddo,” he replied.
“Seven hundred!”
“We’re nearly half way here,” he mentioned.
“We won’t get home until at least nine,” I groaned.
“More like ten, we will need to eat again.”
“And get fuel,” Kat suggested.
“And get fuel,” Dad agreed.
“Don’t worry Gab, we’ll be back on the Ahr first.”

I guess there is that, once we get back into Germany Kat will have her foot on the floorboards all the way home.

 

After confirming everyone knew where they were going and agreeing a chow stop at Berchem in Luxembourg, the north bound side of where we got fuel last week, we set off once more. Lyon was only a few kilometres further on, we didn’t go in of course but cut across to the A6, direction Dijon. After spending most of the day heading generally east we were finally going northwards.

There was a lot more traffic on this road, its name, L’Autoroute de Soleile, road to the sun, pretty much sums up the traffic. Yup holiday makers heading north after a summer on the Med or down in Spain, the last weekend in August and they’re all heading back to the low countries and work tomorrow. Campers, caravans, overstuffed cars and vans, we had to dodge them all.

We did lose some where the Paris motorway went off south of Dijon, more at the turn for Alsace and southern Germany. it was almost bearable as the road changed numbers to the A31 and the destinations had more familiar names, Nancy, Metz, Thionville and Luxembourg. More traffic went up the Reims / Calais road, leaving us on what felt like empty roads for the first time in best part of three hours.

Off to our right the Vosge was shrouded in haze, I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t get a thunderstorm or two this evening. We took another comfort stop somewhere south of Nancy then it was into the Moselle valley and suddenly it felt like we were nearly home. It was only another hour up past Metz and after best bit of fifteen hundred kilometres we ran out of France and crossed into the Duchy of Luxembourg and a couple of minutes later we were at the fuel pumps at Berchem services.

 

Everyone looked equally kernackered after a day on the road, twelve hours already and another couple to go back up to our bit of the Rhein. To be honest I didn’t feel that hungry, Dad had sprung for a decent lunch for everyone back at the Route de France and I’ve been half asleep since. The menu here is a bit more recognizable so I got a Frikadel with Pommes – well you have to eat don’t you?

There was a bit of seat shuffling, Tal, Josh and Angela onto the minibus, Mand joining Dad in the Hymer then it was time for goodbyes. Well there’s no sense in the Ahrtal contingent going to Neuwied is there? Anyhow, that done it was time for the final leg back home.

 

As predicted, once we crossed back into Germany, Kat got a clog on, the speedo barely dropping below a hundred and fifty all the way up to Koblenz. Dad’s prediction of ten might be about right for the camper but it was only just turned nine fifteen when Kat pulled up outside Chez Bond.

“You want coffee?” I offered.
“Best not Gab, if I stop now I’ll not get home.”
I could see her point, “’kay, thanks for driving an’ stuff this week.”
“I get paid to do it.”
“Well its appreciated, see you later in the week?”
“Probably, looks like your mum’s home,” she pointed with her chin towards the house where the kitchen had just sprouted a light.
“Yeah, right I’ll let you go, ciao!”
“Tschuss!”
And with that the big BMW took off into the almost dark.

 

“Hello?” I queried as I dropped my handtasche on the table, there being no one in the still lit kitchen.

By reflex I put the kettle on, no not physically, it doesn’t fit, no turned it on, I need a cuppa.

“Hi kidda,” Mum greeted, her arms full of freshly laundered bed linen, “just you?”
“Yeah, I came back with Kat in the car, Dad reckons he’ll be back in about an hour, you want a cuppa?”
“Sit, I’ll make it then you can tell me all about Spain.”
“’kay.”
“Where do you want these Mrs B?”
“Max? what’re you doing here?”
“Helping me up till now,” Mum inserted, “I reckon the Prinzessin could do with a kiss young man.”

Now that's an itch I need to scratch!

After a bit of tonsil hockey I made myself comfortable on von Strechau’s knee and started the telling. And tea, you don’t realise how much you miss the home comforts until you smell those sheets, sit in the familiar room, hear the missed voices. It might be late, work might be beckoning in all too few hours but this Ahr Princess is in a very happy place.

 

Maddy Bell © 12.05.2018