McDonald’s in Europe has wifi and reliable coffee, it’s a thing. McDonald’s is basically like Starbucks, if Starbucks also sold fish fillet sandwiches and wore yellow instead of green. I still feel like I get coated in airborne animal fat every time I go in one, but today, for example, it was worth it because I was depressed and bored and needed some stimulation. Also I had to pee. (So did Steve.)
I could try harder and take photographs along the way if you want. Do you want that? It’s not like we’re passing up tons of great shit but yeah, we could easily add a field or two per day. Do you want field photographs? Are you looking for more thorough coverage? Chilleurs take up the lion’s share of our time and energy, but we could strive for better balance. I mean, you can say “Yes. Fewer chilleurs, more fields!” but I think I would quit if you did. Sorry, I’m just feeling insecure. At some point every day Steve and I end up talking to other journalists, friendly like, just shooting the shit really, and invariably we learn something very helpful. It turns out they know shit and do research on the course and read the tech manual while we’re posting Instagram stories and shopping for authentic regional headwear. It’s all about choices I guess. Priorities.
Today the plan was:
- Go to the start.
- Do a start-zone photoshooting.
- Drive the course ahead of the race.
- Drive the climb at the end of the race for photoshootings (maybe on the climb, maybe posted-up behind the finish).
About 30k from the climb we get stopped behind the Giro Caravan Circus Show in a town at the bottom of some snow-covered mountains which might be the Alps. Listen, did you know that from Milan you can go north to get to some snow-covered Alps aaaaaaaaand you can go south to get to some snow-covered Alps? Because whatever these mountains are called, they basically do a u-turn when they get to France, which who could blame them? I mean, I knew there were mountains down there in the direction of Genoa but I didn’t think they were of the snow-capped Alp variety. Anyway, if I had internet access right now—which I don’t, which reminds me I hate writing anything without access to the internet because I can’t write without looking up all kinds of shit and I can’t spell and I love words and so I legit use a thesaurus, which this reminds me that Steve woke up this morning feeling like an amputee on account of having lost his phone yesterday; he says he can’t think, he can’t like, he can’t connect, he can’t text, he can’t look shit up, he says he basically feels terrible and alone and bored now, which I totally obviously understand, anyway—I would look-up what the mountains are called but I can’t, so I’m not gonna, so maybe email me if you find out.