The Tour from far

At the confluence of three rivers: Donau, Inn and Ilz. A small town crowded of tourists, the most by bike. At 8 pm we can hardly find a place where to eat because the kitchen closes at 7 pm. A kind of pizza in a fake Italian restaurant is the best compromise. There is no wii-fii in hour big old somehow decadent hotel. I check twitter on my phone. The Tour couldn't be more distant. Silence under a large gray sky while it's the crowd there, roaring in Paris, the final fight and the podium party. Somewhere also my busy love...
It's the first time in years that I don't go to watch the Tour, some stages at least. I was feeling it far this year even before the start, then all those crashes, so many abandons, Vincenzo Nibali launched toward an historical victory but nobody there to really contend it. I didn't manage to get involved. For me Kiryenka's try has been the most exciting moment. I liked De Marchi - fairly awarded - combactivity and Team Tinkoff's reaction to the bed luck. Kittel and Martin, the French duel between Bardet and Pinot, the great Tour of the aged amateur Peraud, the last symbolic break-away of Jens Voigt. Bat still this Tour has lacked of greatness.
Don't get me wrong: what Vincenzo Nibali did is great and a French podium is something to write down in the book. But I can't remember a real exploit on this race, no epic solo ride over epic mountain nor brave reply to brave challenge. Nobody never challenged Nibali. He was the boss and took all, stages included. Nothing that made me jump on my sofa.
I must confess that Scott Mitchell's daily galleries have been the Tour's part I enjoyed the most.
I'm writing on my pad in a hotel room in Passau just before we go to meet our mates in the next adventure: tomorrow we'll be off to Wien, by bike of course.

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