Chapter *1*
Stepping In
The dining room was surprisingly quiet, not even all the Sunday squad were in attendance, Caro and Steve didn't turn up until I was well into my chicken and wedges. Something has obviously gone down today, something not good, maybe someone's had an accident?
"You eating those chips Drew?" Jamie enquired as I toyed with my food.
"Eh? Oh sure, help yourself."
"Now I know something's wrong," Mand observed.
"Yeah," Laura agreed, "hollow legs never leaves food."
Our little squad had gravitated together much like last night.
"What d'ya reckon it's about?" Geth asked no one in particular.
"Drew, Jamie, meeting room." Steve instructed, we were a bit behind the others as we'd done the table clear up.
He waited for us to join him at the door.
"Well done today you two."
"I didn't even finish with the bunch," I noted.
"No—but you helped to shape the race; you'd have been there but for the punctures."
"Aye, ye were stronger than the rest o' us Drew." Jamie added.
"So um, what's this meeting for?" I ventured.
"You'll find out soon enough," Steve replied ushering us towards our destination.
"Before we start on the main purpose of this gathering I want to congratulate the Northampton squad on an excellent result, well done Jamie, but for some untimely punctures I'm sure things would have been even better."
“Cheapskate British races, with no service ,” I mumbled under my breath.
"Right then, to business. This morning it was brought to my attention that a member of this squad had been involved in some inappropriate behaviour whilst we have been at Lilleshall. That individual is no longer on the team and has returned home with the threat of legal action hanging over their head."
Of course this caused some murmuring and head craning, it didn't take Hercule Poirot to work out that it was Reddy who was missing. Shit, Jess' plan has gone well past taking him down a peg.
"Calm down please everyone," Caro requested.
"What did he do?" Laura asked.
"I'm not at liberty to give you any details but it involves an assault earlier in the week. We will not be discussing this any further after this evening but I feel we need to reiterate a few points concerning your personal conduct whilst you are part of this squad.
Anything you do can and will reflect not just on yourselves but on BC and on the sport in general. We will not tolerate any football style antics, sexual or otherwise, you will be immediately removed from the squad for any inappropriate behaviour. For those of you with career hopes in the sport such a situation could wreck your chances of progressing further.
I don't want to come over as some sort of dictator; this is standard stuff that you all agreed to when you joined the squad. If anyone has any concerns we are here for you to talk to okay, we don't want an atmosphere of fear on the squad. Questions?"
Well of course there was a barrage most of which Steve couldn't answer as they concerned Mr Redding's misdemeanour.
"Right then, this obviously affects things for tomorrow's race at Cosford as we are a rider short. I've been talking to Caro and the organisers and we'd like to offer the vacant slot to Drew Bond."
"Me?"
"The spot's yours if you want it Drew." Caro agreed, "If you don't want to ride you don't have to."
"What about Geth or Jamie?"
"You've the experience they still lack," Steve mentioned.
"I'm still knackered after today." Geth allowed.
"Those already on tomorrow's roster already know we have a guest rider hopefully coming to join us but we'd like you there too Drew."
What the heck, "Okay count me in."
After the meeting finished we dispersed to pursue the various evening entertainment options.
"Wotcha doing Dee?" Mand asked as I searched my pockets.
"Ringing Jess, we weren't supposed to get him dumped off the squad. Aha!"
I hit the speed dial for skater girl and waited for it to pick up.
"Heya Gab, how'd the race go?"
"So so, look we need to talk."
"Where are you?"
"Just outside reception."
"There's a bench by the top of the steps, ten minutes."
"We'll be there." I ended the call.
"So?" Mand enquired.
"She's gonna meet us at the top of the steps."
It was actually closer to fifteen minutes before Jess skipped up the steps to where we were waiting.
"Hi guys!"
"Heya," Mand offered.
"What the heck did you do Jess, it was only supposed to be a bit of a lark, not get the jerk booted."
"Nothing to do with me!"
"Of course it is, you put that picture up and stuff," I accused .
"I never got the chance."
"Wotcha mean? You had them printed and everything."
"Bloody waste of two quid that was," she huffed.
"Am I missing something?" Mand enquired.
"If you are then I most definitely am," I noted, "so if you didn't put the pictures up how come the schmuck got booted and all that?"
"Well, and like this isn't gospel, but what we were told, you remember Tina?"
"The little redhead?" Manda offered.
"One and the same, well apparently on Wednesday night she met slime ball out the other side of the hockey pitch and like they ended up making out."
"I can guess," I allowed.
"He didn't rape her did he?"
"No, god we'd have heard about that straight away, no but let's just say he pushed the limits with where his hands could go."
"So how come it only came out today?" Mand queried.
Turns out that it was actually another incident Friday evening that set events in motion. Seems Mr Redding tried his luck with another girl and when he started getting a bit erm, handy she made good her escape. Being a bit more with it than Tina she reported the incident which then set off an investigation, it was only at Saturday breakfast that the groper was identified by Tina and Laura, the second victim.
“So what are you guys up to tomorrow?” Jess enquired after regaling us with the tale.
“Short ride in the morning then we'll probably go watch this one racing at Cosford,” Mand supplied.
“I thought you raced today Gab?” a puzzled Jess queried.
“I did but with no groper we're a man down.” I told her.
“So you step in and they're a woman up!”
“Er kinda.”
“Kewl, hey did you say it was at Cosford?”
“Yeah, big airfield place towards Wolverhampton,” Mand agreed.
“Hey, I could come to watch.”
“It'll be dull as dishwater,” I opined.
“I can get Laura to drive us, all those lycra clad bums, ooo!”
“And there's us calling Reddy a perv.”
“Look don't touch,” Jess stated.
True to expectations Steve gathered us for the day's programme straight after breakfast.
“All those racing today need to be outside reception at eleven prompt, I know it's only a few miles down the road but that's no excuse for being tardy. The rest of you get to do a couple of hours roadwork with Caroline, if anyone wants to come watch the racing you'll need to be at reception at twelve. Any questions?”
There were none so the meeting broke up.
“Drew?” Caroline called out as I went to follow Laura and Manda out of the canteen.
“Wassup?”
“You'll be needing these.” She mentioned, offering me a pile of clothing.
“Sugar, I forgot about this stuff,” I admitted.
“Might be awkward racing in a bra and knickers,” she grinned.
“Caro!” I complained.
“Sorry Drew, couldn't resist. Seriously though, are you okay racing today, we won't hold it against you if you scratch.”
“I'll be fine, after yesterday I'm raring to go. So who's this guest rider?”
“Oh no you don't Drew Bond, you're as bad as your mother. You'll find out soon enough.”
“Damn, I thought I'd got you there.”
“You'll need to get up early to pull one on me young lady.”
“Drew remember? Least for now.”
“Sorry Drew, you never make things easy for anyone do you?”
“Got to keep life interesting.”
Caro glanced at her watch, “I need to get ready to take the others out, I'll see you later.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “thanks again for the kit.”
“Have to look after our star rider,” she grinned.
Star rider she said – I suppose I am on this squad, back home there are loads of riders as good as me, I've had some luck this season to win the Jüngere thing but I'm not that good really. Wonder who this mystery rider is, they must be a junior to get on the team, not being in the UK I don't really know the scene that well anymore, I guess we'll find out in a couple of hours.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 15.04.13
Chapter *2*
Unexpected Reunion
From nine to eleven is two hours in the real world but on race days time runs differently, the first hour and a half lasts ten minutes while that last half hour is at least four hours long. The exception is of course the last five minutes; they last about 30 seconds. And so it was this morning; I tried reading, German lit homework would you believe, but I couldn't concentrate on it or anything else.
So of course I ended up running from my room to reception arriving a minute or two late.
“There you are Bond, thought you'd had second thoughts,” Steve noted.
“Sorry, I er lost track of time.”
“As it's just a short hop to the circuit, we'll be using the ride over as something of a warm up.”
“We'll be knackered before we start,” Claire moaned.
Darren snorted, “Maybe you girls will be.”
“Oh yeah,” Sal put in, “we'll see!”
“Calm down you lot, bags in the bus, shoes on, five minutes.”
One of the hidden things with being on the squad is that whilst our bikes care is ultimately ours at race time Darren or one of the other mechanics looks after our steeds. After yesterday's performance on the muddy Northamptonshire lanes my mount certainly needed some TLC. I've been around bikes enough to spot stuff like ( a ), the Pinarello was gleaming again and ( b ), those tyres are not what I usually ride!
“Put you some tyres on Drew, don't want a repeat of yesterday do we?” Darren grinned when I retrieved my wheels.
“Ultremo's, they only just tested them in Radsport a few weeks ago.”
“Well we had some pre production examples donated by Schwalbe, guess they're hoping to get some BC business, so you've got a free upgrade, I'd of lent you some wheels but I've only got Shimano with me.”
“Tyres are good, cheers Darren.”
“Show ‘em how it's done this afternoon.” He offered with a wink.
“I'll try.”
“I'm banking on it.”
We took a slightly roundabout route to RAF Cosford, the pace never going much over thirty kph – the idea wasn't to wear us out after all.
“That looks like your bike by the bus Drew.” Claire observed as we headed to BC race central.
“Duh, I'm riding it.”
I had to admit though; it did look a lot an Apollinaris squad bike, same colour and everything.
“Everything okay people?” Steve asked as we pulled up at the bus.
“Bit of a cross wind,” Darren the rider observed.
“That'll probably influence things this afternoon.” He agreed, “Before we go any further I'd best introduce your new team member, you want to come round Mr Waugh.”
No it can't be, he's like in Germany, Dad would've said – wouldn't he? The lump came around the corner of the bus with his uncle.
“Josh you lummox!” I exclaimed.
“Drew man.”
“Hut hum?” Steve interrupted, “Some of you might know young Josh from last season, this year he's been riding for Apollinaris in Germany with Drew here.”
“Bit of a hunk.” Sal whispered to Claire behind me.
“He's got a girlfriend,” I supplied in a stage whisper.
“No harm in looking.” Claire stated, “Hello Josh, I'm Claire.”
The introductions didn't take long; well they were curtailed by Steve reminding us that we have a race to ride.
“So how come you're here?” I quizzed my friend as we queued to sign on.
“Your Da asked if I fancied it last week like, we did a chipper Frankfurt way like.”
“Yeah but like Germany – England?”
“I flew over yesterday, Uncle Joe picked me up like, I stayed with him last night then we's driven down this mornin' like. ‘S like being a pro, flying to races and stuff.”
He was clearly well chuffed to be here, I was glad he was here for other reasons, not least his proven record on the roads of Germany.
We reached the table and I handed over my licence, after yesterday I was expecting the third degree.
“Bond, BC Juniors.”
“Don't see many of these.” The chap doing the signing noted as he searched for me on the sheet, “Ah right here we are, thirteen.
“Waugh, BC.” Josh passed his permit over.
The guy did a double take, “Two in the same race, hang on, Bond, Jenny's girl?”
“Might be,” I sighed, for heavens sake it's got my name on the licence!
He looked at Josh, “I'm guessing you're related to Joe Waugh right?”
“My Uncle.” Josh admitted, “He's outside somewheres.”
“Geez, I remember riding against him in the old Premier series. Here you go, eighteen.”
We both quickly signed the sheet before he could detain us longer with more reminiscences and headed back to the bus.
“Okay then, I'm making Drew team leader.” Steve told us, “He's got the experience most of you still lack. Listen to him, try to do what he asks, Josh you've got the second seat. We've talked about what happened last week, there won't be a repeat will there?”
A round of mumbles came as reply.
“What was that?”
“No Steve.” Came a more confident reply from my teammates.
“Now then, there's a good field here today, let's show everyone why you guys are wearing BC jerseys and not them. I want to see commitment out there okay.”
I looked out over the battlefield – a bit lumpier than some but fairly exposed as you might expect. From the start it drops slightly for the first kilometre before starting a steady climb to the opposite end of the field before dropping again back through the start area.
It's surprisingly sinuous, the longest straights are only about 250m's long and there are only two notable corners, one almost hairpin the other a fast square corner. I'm sure I won't be the only one considering the hairpin as the prime escape point. It's a little under 4km per circuit, we do 25 laps to do just shy of 100km or 60 miles.
“So what d'youse think el Capitano?” Josh asked joining me.
“Reminds me of Eastway a bit.”
“Longer but I see where you're coming from like.”
“Where are the others?”
“At the bus I think man.”
“Let's go have a chat then.”
Steve and Joe, Josh's uncle, both nodded but said nothing as I concluded my pep talk.
“Everyone happy?” I asked.
“What if someone else gets away?” Darren asked.
“It's your job to stop that happening unless we want it to happen.”
“Tactics man,” Josh offered in support, “sometimes you give the opposition some rope, sometimes not.”
“What Josh says is true, we might not have the physically best team but if we ride as a team instead of a group of individuals success can be ours. You've all seen some of Drew and Josh's races in Germany; those working in the pack are every bit as important as the front-runners. Follow these guy's instructions, they know what they are talking about and you'll have me to answer to if you don't.” Steve told the assembled masses.
Nothing like laying the pressure on.
“Right then, lets do it.” I suggested with more confidence than I felt.
The sun was out but a few cotton wool clouds were scudding overhead at a speed suggesting the wind hadn't eased from our ride down from Lilleshall. The supporting senior race for second and thirds with a fistful of ladies had quickly split into several small groups each riding their own race seemingly oblivious to the rest. Our race could easily go the same way.
BANG!
Unlike back home there was no pre race introduction or even local bigwig to start us just the chief commissaire. Being on a closed circuit the powers that be had allowed an eighty rider field, BC Juniors having by far the biggest team even if we were nominally two four rider squads. The lead motorbike shot ahead and like a newly woken crocodile we burst into movement, several riders setting off at full pace despite the neutral zone.
They wouldn't be a threat, not today, not on this circuit, no let them have their heads and see who will give us a free ride by chasing them down. Claire and Laura are neither up to Ron's level of performance or physical strength so I don't want to throw them into the fray too early.
Despite a lot of squealing brakes and cursing the field negotiated the hairpin without mishap and with the green flag waved from the motorbike we were now racing. Early enthusiasm had us start the long climb at a surprisingly quick lick but everyone from BC held their station comfortably. A couple of chancers went off the front just before the next proper corner; we're not even a lap in yet.
In Germany the bigger teams would already be taking control, trying to close down and control the race. Here even the more numerically strong outfits were riding as individuals who just happen to wear the same strip – you could see it at Northampton yesterday but it was more obvious today. A last little kick up and the circuit flattened before taking a sweeping left across the end of the runway and back towards the hangars of the air museum and the finish line.
The escapologists floundered as the wind found them and they found themselves shark bait swallowed whole as the circuit started to tip downhill.
“Come on Gaby!”
“Dig in guys!”
I hadn't seen them before we started but Jess and Manda had clearly made it to Cosford. I grinned to myself at the thought of them both in cheerleading outfits waving poms about – who'd be daft enough to do that?
A quick glance around revealed some riders already doing the rubber yo-yo at the back of the field. None of ours thankfully, whilst we aren't in a block all together everyone is in the right half of the field. I caught my lieutenant's eye and nodded approval, 24 laps to go, a long way out.
The next few laps were pretty uneventful, the bulk of the bunch staying together occasionally dropping a rider at the rear or pursuing another hopeless escape at the front. We held our station, not hindering nor helping to keep the lid on things. A couple of other clearly more experienced riders had similar strategies, the kid in the Manx Road Club jersey looks a bit handy, have to keep an eye on him.
We were eight laps in before the first serious move; well in my reading at least, was made. Darren got his chance to do something at last shooting after the four primaries to take a watching brief cum anchor position.
“Watch?” Josh asked.
“Ja, fur kleine moment.” I hoped he'd take the hint even if his German isn't up to much.
He nodded in understanding, oh yeah; we've got a few tricks to throw around this afternoon.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 18.04.13
Chapter *3*
Cosford Cup
By the end of the lap there was still no real interest from the bunch despite which Darren's group were struggling to make much of an impression. The stalemate was of course largely down to the lack of anything resembling organisation in either bunch, the breakaway were, as far as I could tell just bashing away at each other.
I manoeuvred my way through the bodies to John and Steve who were stoically maintaining station a few places behind Josh.
“Time to earn those jerseys.” I mentioned.
“No ones going anywhere.” Steve stated.
“Just the point, you pair and Josh are, when he goes at the hairpin you two are going with him, the rest of us'll block.”
“But Daz is in the break.” John observed.
“Your point? hairpin next time,” I ordered.
“'Kay.” Steve allowed.
I moved to find the others uncertain that the Chuckle Brothers would follow orders.
Claire, Sal and David joined me at the head of the bunch, replacing Josh who dropped a few places back to the others. It wasn't difficult to ease the speed down a little creating a bit of bunching as we went through the finish zone. There weren't many watchers, mostly family and friends of those competing, cycling just doesn't pull in the crowds here that it does across the water.
“Dave, go with em' we'll block.”
“Sure boss.”
Okay a change of plan but David seems more committed than the other pair so I think it's worth the chance.
We dropped down toward the bend; I signalled Josh the all clear and prepared to jump some wheels.
In my mind it was such a clean move, the lads move ahead under braking then accelerating away from the corner, me an' the girls blocking any chase letting the others get cleanly away. It was a whole lot messier than that. Josh, Dave and Steve certainly went for it but John pretty much sat up before they'd got ten metres. The blocking was a bit more successful, a couple of riders spotted what was happening and reacted quickly enough to get onto the BC train but the majority were too slow and we only had to chase down a couple of belated escapees.
With the Waugh locomotive in full steam the gap quickly opened leaving me and the others to marshal any further chasing.
“What happened?” I asked John, when I caught up to him at the top of the climb.
“No legs.”
I didn't buy that for one moment, no it was lack of commitment that was the problem, I was certain.
“Yer boyfriends left you girlies to hold the fort eh?”
“Eh?” full of conversation skills me.
The Neanderthal next to me went on, “Slick move, pity you girls couldn't keep up.”
‘If that's what you wanna think big boy then why are you still here?'
Sal and Claire were in close attendance, “Dee, do we have to stay with ape man here?” Sal loudly asked.
“It won't be for long,” I replied .
“Yeah you'll be eating the real rider's dust soon enough girls.”
He really didn't know when to quit and if he calls me a girl once more!
Up ahead the lads had connected with the leaders making nine in the break, four of which wearing BC strip. Josh soon had a rotation started, not everyone wanted to participate but hanging on and not working can be harder than joining in and if you are in the break why wouldn't you?
The gap held at about five hundred metres for a couple of laps before the pressure from the main bunch eased and we could relax our watch a bit.
When a rider sidled up next to me my first thought was a return of ape boy but it turned out to be the Manx rider.
“Thought you were a sprinter like.”
“Sometimes,” I admitted.
“Thought you'd be up the road, can't win from back here, Mark by the way.”
“Drew.”
“I know, saw you on telly a few weeks back.”
“Telly?” when have I been on telly, well apart from The Wedding and the fitness run.
“You were riding some big deal race and crashed at the finish?”
“Stuttgart? That was televised here?”
“Nah we were on holiday in the Black Forest, it was on the evening news. So how come you're back here?”
“Team captain, you?”
“Watching you,” he grinned.
Now I come to think about it he'd been in close attendance all afternoon, why didn't he try and go when Josh attacked?
The constant nagging breeze did have one good point, without it the temperature would have been into the uncomfortable zone, I took a tug on my bidon, hmm-warm water, not great. We were past the halfway point now, next time round will leave ten laps to go, time for part two.
We've used similar tactics back in Germany, but of course Ron and the girls are stronger riders than Claire and Sal, still, work with what you've got. Sal went first on the steepest bit of the climb; a couple of lads gave chase before Claire took over attacking detail. I took the last slot over the brow, whilst not as decisive as I'd hoped, we only had twenty metres open tarmac, but had only attracted four other riders, one of which was Manx Mark. To my surprise John was on the front of the remaining Peleton apparently discouraging further chasing.
“Nice,” Mark grinned as we crossed.
“Work?” I suggested.
“Not too hard.”
“'Kay.” it was better than I'd hoped.
My short talk with Josh had set up the move in theory, if things go to plan from here BC will have half the group that'll contest the finish. The other lads that made the jump fell into our rotation and even Mark was making quite an effort. Ahead of us Josh and David dropped off the back of the leaders, apparently unable to hold the pace.
The speed wasn't that impressive, we were holding station on the leaders without really closing the gap even if over two laps we gained a couple of hundred over the main peloton. We finally sucked our BC boys up as we started lap eighteen.
“Thought ye'd never catch us man,” Josh grinned.
“All in good time.” I observed, “After the turn?”
“Sure, give the lad a breather.”
“We okay up front?”
“Aye, the others'll shite themselves when we come back up.”
“I knew yours was the right wheel,” Mark offered catching the end of our discourse.
“We'll see.”
Indeed we will, the girls were hanging in so far but I'm not confident they'll go the distance.
Josh has shown his strength before and today he's got more to prove than usual so whilst eight of us were riding hard, Mr Waugh was going just that bit harder. We didn't need to raise the pace much to start eating into the leader's advantage, with Darren and Steve up there hopefully they'll contain any reaction in front .
Slowly at first but then more quickly the gap closed, either they were oblivious to us ahead or our lads were doing a good job – maybe both.
“Go for it , Gabeee!”
“Dig in BC!”
“Hang in girls!”
We started lap twenty two almost within spitting distance of the leaders, Josh put in a big pull on the descent that put us in contact as we reached the hairpin. So here we are, seven BC riders up against six others – if we don't win this there must be something wrong. Of course now no one wanted to work with the red and blue jerseys, it's up to us to take the race to them.
“You okay Daz?”
“Tired.”
“Join the club.” Indeed yesterday's toils were starting to make themselves felt too.
I checked the others out, Steve was in fair condition, Dave whilst enthusiastic was pretty well shot. Both girls would get to the finish but realistically had nothing left to give which leaves Josh and me. If it comes to a gallop it'll be up to me, Josh doesn't really do sprinting but there again the plan is to avoid that scenario, too many unknowns like Mr Manxman.
The competition it has to be said didn't really look in any better condition than us; some of them have been out here most of the afternoon.
Our lead over the bunch has stretched to I reckon two minutes, enough buffer to not worry on that quarter but do we sit and wait or make a move? My call I guess.
“What d'ya reckon man?” Josh enquired.
“Fancy a long one?” I offered.
“On the bell?”
“Earlier, they'll be waiting for something last lap.”
“Aye yous'll be right on that, you with?”
“Best not, I reckon that Manx kid can sprint a bit, he's been dogging me all afternoon, I'm sure he'd try to spoil our fun, I can send Daz with you?”
“You're the boss.”
Three to go and the intrepid duo went for it out of the hairpin, they had not quite fifty metres by the next corner but it stalled at that, even five blocking six doesn't work for long if six of the legs having nothing left. Sal blew on the climb and was joined in short order by Dave. With no one willing to work at this stage of the race the position stagnated, even if we are numerically strong, I'm relying on Josh and Daz staying clear to give us the result.
We were on the penultimate climb of the day when Darren gave out big style coming back to our group and out the back within two hundred metres, damn. Josh continued to plough his lone furrow but now there was renewed hunger in the eyes of the competition, Claire's position in the group is getting increasingly tenuous, not that she's alone in that.
Through the bell we were still nine ‘chasing' one still only about forty metres up, I wouldn't blame him for sitting up. However we are talking Josh here, he'll keep going until he can't pedal anymore. It suddenly dawned on a couple of riders that in order to win they'd have to reel Josh in so for the first time since the break there was a concerted effort and lifting of the pace.
Claire's elastic finally broke taking two others with her; Steve gamely tried to keep his place in the train with me on his wheel. Somehow Josh was managing to keep ahead, this is turning into a bit of an eppy! Through the hairpin and onto the climb for the final time, there's still a way to go but the speed barely faltered until the final kick up.
A few bike lengths were all that separated us from Josh now and about a kilometre from the line. Steve lost the battle; I flipped past him and another lad leaving just six in the running for victory.
At two hundred Josh was still ahead but by one fifty as the sprint wound up he was swallowed and spat out, I made the final gear change and hit the front, fifty to go, I'm gonna take it! Barely had that thought passed my senses than something came past me as though I had stopped.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 21.04.13
Chapter *4*
Manx Missile
‘What the!'
It was all over before my mind could compute what had just happened; yes I've been beaten in sprints before but not in such a devastating fashion, not even against seniors. In my stupor I nearly lost second spot too but the line came too soon for any of the remaining riders to come back around me.
“Well done Drew!” Caro beamed throwing my trackie over my shoulders.
“Guh!”
“D'ya get it?” Josh gasped rolling to a halt beside my heaving form.
“Second.” Steve supplied joining us.
Josh raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“Well yers did ride yesterday man.”
True enough but not the reason I crossed the line in second place.
I managed to get out of my bike shoes before the presentation which once again demonstrated how far behind we are in the UK, no podium, just a bloke with a mic.
“And in second,” Squeal! “place riding for British Cycling, Drew Bond!”
There was a bit of boisterous cheering from my teammates and polite clapping elsewhere as I went to join the lanky Londoner, Froome or some such who took third place. My prize, a small trophy and a cheque for twenty-five quid, clearly we do this for enjoyment rather than personal gain.
“Our winner today, defending his title successfully, Mark Cavendish, Manx Road Club!”
The cheering was more universal this time, I joined in the applause – he might have beaten me but there's no point harbouring a grudge.
“Excellent ride everyone.” Steve grinned when we gathered at the bus after showering, “Much better, you looked like a team out there.”
“Didn't win tho,'” I pouted.
“But you were in at the kill, remember, a lot of those out there, including the winner have got a year or more on you Drew.”
“Even so…”
“You came in second, and everyone played their part. Josh, excellent ride, I'll have a chat with you and your uncle in a few minutes. We'll have a full debrief back at the Hall.”
“So how come that Cavendish lad isn't on the squad?” Claire enquired.
“I have to make a bit of an admission, we've not been 100% up front with you all; it's not a prerequisite to be on the squad for selection.”
Caroline arrived before he could go on with Mr Mark Cavendish in tow.
“Ladies and gents, may I introduce Mark Cavendish.”
“Er high guys.”
Off the bike and away from the presentation he seemed to be a bit shy.
“Nice ride man,” Josh offered.
“Yeah that sprint was er, fast,” I added.
“I had a good lead out.” He grinned.
“Cards on the table everyone, Mark will be going to Denmark, we've got four other slots on the boys road team and two time trial positions, we'll be talking with Chris tonight to make those selections.”
“That doesn't mean those not selected are necessarily off the squad,” Caro explained, “as you know we get places dependant on our riders success or otherwise during the season, both Drew and Mark have contributed greatly to get us 5 starts but we are still some way off getting maximum representation. We have ambitions for British Cycling, big ambitions; many of you will feature at some point in helping us achieve those goals. We will support you, all we ask from you is commitment and to do your best.”
“That's the pep talk over,” Steve went on, “if anyone wants to have a look around the planes you can, I'll bring the bus back around five. Everyone else, bus leaves in ten.”
As the 'meeting' broke up Mark sought me out.
"Good to finally meet you,"
"And you too I guess."
"There's been a lot of talk which I have to admit I thought was a load of hyped up tosh."
"Talk?"
"You know, like rumours?"
"About me? Where from?"
"It was all abuzz when I was in Belgium how this junior team in Germany was like chewing up all the races and spitting the remains on the road behind, what were they calling you? Oh yeah , the Apollinaris Valkyries."
"No shit?"
"Yup, I'm sure that was it, after seeing you out there today I can see it wasn't all exaggeration; that was quite a sprint."
"Yeah but you came past like I was stood still."
"It's what I do and like I had a pretty reasonable lead out."
"I never saw anyone helping you."
He chortled.
"What's so funny?"
"Caroline said you often miss the obvious."
"Hmmpf!"
"You provided my train, I'm a sprinter right, I don't do all that chasing stuff, if it wasn't for you guys I doubt I'd have been there at the end."
"Shitza."
"I dunno what you said to the girls but like I've never seen girls do so much or get so near the finish before disappearing."
"Lead by example?"
"Maybe but I reckon there's more to it than that."
"Drew? You coming or staying?" Steve called over.
"Er staying, I just need my camera."
"Nice meeting you Drew Bond, I'll see you next week." Cavendish told me with a wink.
Wink? What the!
"Sure, next week,” I agreed.
We watched the BC bus head back to Lilleshall, that is me, Mand and Jess who'd sweet-talked her way into a lift with Caro and the guys earlier. We weren't the only ones taking a butchers at the aircraft, a few of the guys have stayed but they've already headed in. I didn't see where Josh and his uncle went; I'll text him later.
"Pretty impressive Gab." Jess observed as we walked up the hill to the entrance building.
"I got trounced." I moaned, I still couldn't believe how Cavendish dumped me like that.
"I didn't think girls would be able to compete with the lads like that but like why didn't you get the girl's prize instead of whatsername?"
"Claire," I offered.
"Yeah her."
"One rider one prize," Mand put in.
"Yeah, that's it." I agreed.
"Well doesn't seem fair to me, you were miles in front of her."
"Coffee and buns first?" Ms. DeVreen suggested.
"Oh yeah, I'm starving," I agreed.
"Guess you've earnt it," Jess allowed.
A bun, well slice of chocolate gateau, and a cuppa later we set off to explore this part of the Royal Air Force's collection of aerial memorabilia. Of course unlike cars, paintings or matchbooks you need a lot of space for even a mediocre collection of airy planes and this lot was far from mediocre!
The first hall was, I'm sure very interesting but its display of prototypes and test planes didn't stir anything in me or the girls, we quickly moved onto the hall next door – warplanes! I'd kind of expected to see all British stuff – it is the RAF museum after all, but there was all sorts of stuff from America, Japan, Germany and even Argentina from when they invaded the Falklands, definitely more like it.
Now before you go thinking that I'm some sort of anorak I'm not but this is like real history stuff. Photographs and Airfix kits don't really give any sense of size, of what they really look like. Everyone knows what a Spitfire looks like but what about a Mitsubishi Dinah, the one here is the only one left anywhere – there's not even any in Japan.
“I never realised they were so small,” Mand observed looking over the Hurricane.
“The jets are much bigger,” Jess supplied.
“Stuff to do with the engines I guess.”
“What do you mean Gab?”
“Well these old planes, the engine's just in that bit at the front, the pilot sits behind it yeah?”
“I guess,” Manda allowed.
“The new ones, the pilot sits on top, the engine takes up like all the body.”
“Fuselage,” Jess mentioned, “it's called the fuselage.”
“Well whatever, jet engines are much bigger than the old propeller ones.” I finished my ‘lecture'.
“Guess that explains it.” Mand conceded .
Sated with warplanes we headed to the newly opened, read not quite finished, Cold War hall. This stuff is on a completely different scale, huge delta winged bombers, Russian MiG's – even a Dakota from the Berlin airlift . Herr Ansbacher was on about that in history, the Brits and Americans flew thousands of tons of supplies into Berlin after the Russkies blockaded the capital.
It's not all planes of course, there's a collection of missiles and a few trucks and tanks and stuff as well. It's a bit of a weird building really, on two levels with more stuff hanging from the high ceiling.
“Hey look, there's a lift to the top,” Jess pointed .
“Come on then.” I might get some good pics from up there.
We made the ascent and stepped out onto what felt like quite a rickety platform.
“Whoa, long way down.” Mand stated after looking over the side.
“Hmm, still can't get a decent pic of that one in the middle,” I moaned.
You can't get anywhere up there so after doing my David Bailey bit with planes and friends we returned to terra firma, a quick spin through the gift shop then we crossed to the last building, a bigger hall than any of the others, full of all sorts of stuff.
Hanger 1, no idea why it's called that, was certainly crammed with all sorts of stuff to clamber on, sit in and marvel at – the Dragonfly helicopter was just amazing, I don't know how it ever flew.
“Gab, you coming?” Jess called up to the observation platform.
“Sure.”
“We'll miss the bus, it's five past already.” Mand told me.
“Gab?”
Sugar , I recognise that voice.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 25.04.13
Chapter *5*
Making The Cut
“Do I look like her Clive?” I queried turning to address the source of the voice.
“Er Drew man, what're you doing here?”
“Let me think Clive, looking at penguins?”
“Looking at, hey, don't be like that bud, you know what I mean.”
Clive Jones, once my best mate when I lived in Warsop, here, in the flesh.
“Racing, thought I'd take a squint at the planes while we were here.”
“Your cousins here?”
“Nope, neither of them.” I tried to forestall any further probing, “Look I need to go, bus waiting.”
“Sure I heard someone calling your cuz's name just now.”
“Lots of girls have the same name.”
“I guess.”
“Gaa-ab!” Mand screeched.
Clive craned his head over the balcony to try and spot his prey.
“Catch you later, tschuss!”
I made a break for it, clearing the first set of steps in one go before clattering my way down the rest to where the girls waited impatiently.
“Come on, what kept you?” Jess quizzed.
“Lad from my old school.” I allowed as we trotted towards the car park.
“Sounds like there's history there.” Manda observed.
History indeed, Clive Jones, yeah, stuff I'd rather forget about.
“Ooh do tell Gab.”
“Look it was a couple of years ago, it's over, there's nothing to tell.”
“Hmmm.”
“Sorry we're late, the time sort of ran away a bit.” I thought I'd get an apology in before Steve could go off on one.
“You're alright, I've only just got here myself.”
Must be my lucky day. We clambered into the bus and we were soon heading back towards Lilleshall.
“So?” Jess pressed.
I knew what she was hinting at and even if I was gonna tell her it wouldn't be on our team bus with everyone listening, nope not gonna happen
“Not here.”
“Later then.”
Not if I can help it!
By bus the journey back was under twenty minutes door to door, dinner wasn't until six so we headed to the gardens to crash in peace and quiet for a bit. Jess' phone chirped before we reached ‘our' bench, summoning her to join the other skaters.
“Laters.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
Once she was gone Mand restarted the inquisition.
“So what's the story with this boy then?”
“I said, nothing to tell.”
“There so definitely is, come on spill.”
She's not gonna give up without something is she, guess I'll get it over and done with.
“Okay,” I started, plonking myself onto the bench, “it was like two years ago, bit more I guess. Mad, my cousin, she's like really into Cosplay and stuff, well…”
The telling of the tale, as these things do, took longer than I thought it would, the basic story is quite short but for it to make any sense you have include other stuff.
“So he still doesn't know you are Gaby?” Mand smirked .
“Nope, as far as I know he still thinks she just moved away.”
“Boys!”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Bum it's half six, we're missing dinner!”
My stomach rumbled in agreement, it's not like it's a set mealtime here but I've only had a bit of cake since the race and nothing much since breakfast before that.
“Last one there eats salad!” I challenged, already starting to run.
“Why you!”
I skidded to a halt at the tray pick up barely a metre ahead of Manda.
“Yes!”
“You cheated going across the flower bed,” she puffed.
“All is fair in war.”
“Well you can eat salad, I can smell a roast.”
“Let you off, hmm smells like lamb.”
It was indeed lamb I could smell, they had a bit of a carvery going on so there was turkey and pork too, quite a treat after the healthy food we've had all week, a bit of indulgence.
“Drew man!” Josh's voice called out as we threaded our way towards our favourite table by the windows.
“Josh? Cool man, you made the squad, no one said.”
He was sitting with Jamie and Geth.
“Couldn't tell you if you weren't here,” he pointed out.
I plonked my tray down to join them.
“Hey I wanna sit too,” Amanda complained.
“You could sit with the girls,” Geth suggested.
“And you could get a second brain cell.” She snorted in reply to that suggestion.
“I was only saying.”
“Gi o'er the pair on yer, sit here, I'm finished eating,” Jamie offered.
“Thanks, Jamie, there are still some gentlemen left.”
Don't count me in that statement.
The domestic squabble resolved, Geth left with Jamie leaving the three of us around the disputed seating.
“So you staying in Blighty?”
“Same as you I guess.”
“Cool.”
“What are you two rabbiting about?” Mand asked.
“Eh?”
“You were talking German?” she observed.
“Soz, we'll try to remember to use English.” I apologised.
“Aye lass, Josh Waugh by the way.”
“The Geordie Gabs goes on about, we saw you in some of the vids.”
“Gabs?”
“She's cool, she knows most of it.” I told him.
“The others?”
“Nope, just Mand's, oh yeah, this hellion is Miss Amanda DeVreen.”
“Manda to you big boy.”
“Don't get any ideas Mand, he's taken. Talking of which how are the girls?”
“Same as usual, Gret's trying to get one over Tali all the time.”
“Apart from that? How's Ron?”
“I thought Josh was the only lad on the team Gab? ” Manda queried.
“I am now,” Josh agreed.
“So who's this Ron kid?”
“Ron,“ I chuckled, “she'd lay you out for calling her a boy!”
“Aye, she would at that,” Josh chuckled.
“Veronike Grönberg is the girl I race with most of the time, she lives up near Dusseldorf.”
“I thought you all rode together?”
“Only for the big events, Josh, Tali and Gret live up north so they ride together, Roni and me around the Eifel and NRW mostly.”
“Like the Eifel Tower?”
“Interesting idea but not it. Where I live is in the Eifel, just south of Bonn.”
“That anywhere near Cologne, my Gran went to the market thing there last Christmas.”
“We're south of there but we sometimes go to Köln shopping and stuff.”
“Kuln?”
“It's how you say it, Cologne is the French way of saying it, only tourists say it like that.”
“Hark at her.”
“I was only saying.” Geez I sound like Geth, “You should come over sometime.”
“Like that's gonna happen, Mum and Dad think Ibiza is the height of sophistication, I couldn't stand going this year, stayed with Gran in Brighton instead.”
“Never been.”
“Brighton or Spain?”
“Either.”
“Full o' shirt lifters man.”
“Spain?”
“Brighton Gabs, I don't reckon they'd like that terminology though big boy.”
“Well it's not like I'll be saying it to their face,” Josh stated.
“Still.” Mand pushed.
“Not my thing like, ask Tali.”
“Too much information!”
“I was only…”
“Saying.” Mand and me finished for him, it's become line of the day!
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 27.04.13
Chapter *6*
Not So Brief
The mild weather that we were lucky enough to have yesterday didn't last the evening out; we woke to persistent rain that looked set for the day. The racing over it's back to the grindstone.
“Okay you lot, calm down.” Caro requested when we convened in the lecture room after breakfast. It took a moment but she was soon able to go on, “ S light change this morning's programme folks, decisions have been made, we'll be talking to you all individually during the day, because of that we aren't out on the bikes until this evening, instead you'll be in the gym this morning.
We'll be taking you in alphabetical order, which means , Drew, you are up first, we'll be using the office next to reception, Laura, you'll be up next. Questions?”
The sixty four thousand dollar question was of course, who has made the squad, Caro wasn't giving anything away, we'd each have to wait for our own individual fate to be decreed and lucky me gets to go first.
I nervously knocked on the door a few minutes later.
“Come.”
I pushed the door open and slipped inside.
“Take a seat , Drew.” Caro instructed.
“Er thanks.”
I'd been expecting Steve and Caro but instead of Steve I was faced with Chris Toynbee and another chap I didn't recognise.
“Hello again , Drew,” Chris started, “a lot has happened since we last spoke.”
“Uh huh.”
“Oh sorry, this is my boss Dave Brailsford, Dave is in charge of medal winning for Team GB.”
That's where I saw him before, on the Olympic coverage the other week.
“To business then, you came to us with a very impressive palmares and you've certainly confirmed in our minds that you deserve a permanent place on the Development Squad. Steve and Caro have recommended your selection for Denmark and Dave and I agree you should travel.”
Whilst Caro had hinted strongly that I'd have a place, confirmation by Chris lifted a weight from my shoulders I hadn't realised I was carrying.
“Erm, does being on the team mean I have to move to Manchester full time?”
“No, nothing like that young man,” Mr Brailsford cut in, “we want you to continue with your education, this isn't China you know. There will be training camps that we expect you to attend and if things go well you'll be representing Team GB in the junior World Cup series next season.”
“So er what happens next, I mean up to Denmark?”
Chris came back in, “Caroline will talk to your parents later, you go back to Manchester on Wednesday, full health assessment on Thursday then those picked for Denmark are off to Italy for some specific training and the Helvetia Cup in Switzerland in ten days time. You have a few days at home then before we gather in Roskilde.”
“Wow, glad my passport's up to date!”
“I don't think Chris mentioned , Drew, but you'll be doing the time trial and road race, you up for that?”
Flip and flop!
“I get to ride one of those aero bikes again?”
“Indeed you do, so what do you think?” Dave pressed.
“Count me in.”
“Anything you want to ask?” Chris enquired.
“Who else is on the team?”
“You know young Cavendish has a place but it wouldn't be fair if we told you before we tell them so you'll have to be patient a little longer. I think you've probably already got some feeling, obviously events on Saturday have changed things a little.”
“Chris.” Dave interrupted.
“Sorry, probably said too much there. So if there's nothing else , Drew?”
“Not for now thanks, you won't regret it, putting me on the team that is.”
“In that case we're done for now, can you send Laura up please?”
“Sure, nice to meet you Mr Brailsford.”
“And you Drew.”
“Will we, regret it that is?” Dave mused to his underlings.
“What options do we have?” Chris pointed out, “the kids crapped all over the rest of our pick, we need support for Mark, without Drew we'd be pissing in the wind.”
“The Waugh lad's come on a lot in Germany,” Caroline pointed out.
“Talking of Germany, how are negotiations going with Apollinaris?”
“We're waiting on a reply from the team owners but Dave seems to be reasonably behind the idea.”
“Timescale?” Dave enquired.
“We should know by Roskilde,” Caroline informed the others.
“Pity we can't do something similar for the lads,” Chris sighed.
“Josh Waugh is already in place.”
“Yes but we're not getting any depth for the road, on the track we've got a great core but to succeed on the tarmac we need more than three riders,” Dave declared .
Yes! I punched the air in delight, it's not every day you get picked to represent your country on the international stage, not once but twice. Just wait until I tell the girls – and Dad, wonder if I've got time for a call? Hmm, best not, they'll be waiting for Laura.
I made my way down to the gym where the others were being tortured by Steve.
“Laura, they're ready for you.”
“Cheers Drew, wish me luck.”
“Luck.”
She grabbed a towel and headed for her destiny.
“Drew, warm up then take Laura's spot with Amanda.”
“Kay.”
“So?” Mand queried ten minutes later.”
“Yup.” I allowed with a grin.
“You shoulda been a shoe in,” she suggested.
“Eggs and chickens.”
“Uh huh, so who else?”
“Wouldn't tell me.”
“So what happens now?”
“Training in Italy, some race in Switzerland then the big W in Denmark. Oh yeah I'm doing both events.”
“Boys and girls?” she whispered.
“Don't be daft, road race and tt.”
“Oh right.”
“I'm sure you'll be picked.”
“If there were two riders and two prizes I'd be third.”
“Eh?”
“‘Smy luck.”
“Less chat you two,” Steve instructed.
“Sorry.”
We were doing circuits, twenty stations, minute on, fifteen seconds off, the lads were going around singly, the girls in pairs, each separated by at least one station. I managed to get a thumbs up across to Josh who didn't seem to be enjoying his first day on the squad too much . Whistle, work, whistle, stop, move and repeat.
By lunchtime half our number had been up to the office, by the grin on Geth's face he had a slot, John came back with a face like thunder so I'm guessing he's not made the cut. Claire and Laura returned in good spirits but David I reckon has missed out. With seven rides to cover in the lad's events, four are taken, so three left with four riders in the frame.
As you might guess lunch wasn't the usual chatty, spirited affair. With a total of five rides and four riders to choose from it looked unlikely that any of them would miss out, it was more who got what.
“I reckon you've got a spot.” Claire suggested to Jamie between mouthfuls of chicken soup.
“Maybe, I'm nae sa sure, what with the Toon here.”
“I agree with Claire, you're a cert,” I asserted .
“They aren't aboot to pick me man, I've been here like a day,” Josh grumbled .
Personally, I wasn't so sure about that, I'd take Josh and Jamie for the road and maybe Darren for the other Testing slot, he was pretty quick when we were chasing around that circuit. That is assuming Geth has a road start – well that's who I'd pick anyway.
I hadn't given any thought to this afternoon's activities so when Laura met us at the door of the dance studio half an hour later my heart sank. I vaguely remember agreeing to help her with this session, what the heck have I volunteered for?
“Okay people, now you're all nicely stretched we'll get down to some work, Drew love, can you give me a hand.”
It wasn't a question so I reluctantly joined her at the front of the class.
“Right then, unlike last time we are going to concentrate on balance and muscle control, both things that you as cyclists need to master. So what I'm going to do is ask Drew here who has some dance experience to take some positions and demonstrate the required moves, then you guys get to have a go. I don't want any pulled or torn muscles so just get as close as you can okay?”
There was a confirming mumble from my colleagues and then my humiliation began.
Now don't get me wrong, even at Garde we go through some ballet positions but stood in front of your mates standing in each position I felt a right plonker. So okay it's not like taking the stance was difficult, or even the moves but it hardly gives out boy vibes does it – especially as even the girls struggled with some of them. Jamie disappeared, then Sal, David, Steve before Manda and finally Josh took their turns in the office.
Of course we didn't spend the whole afternoon doing ballet positions, oh no Laura had a surprise in store for everyone – line dancing! As if spending an hour and a half holding ridiculous poses wasn't enough fun now we get Dolly Parton and the birdie dance. It was at least a chance to let off a bit of steam, reduce the tension that had inevitably built during the day.
Laura managed to collar me again at the end of the session.
“Thanks for helping Drew, are you sure you've not studied ballet?”
“One hundred percent.”
“Caroline tells me you're going to the World Championships?”
“Yup.”
“Well good luck, bring back a medal eh oh and don't forget to practice your barre.”
“Er sure, thanks.”
I made my escape and headed for a shower – practice barre, like that's gonna happen!
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 29.04.13
Chapter *7*
The Amazing Jess
“Jess.” I wasn't sure if I was happy to see her sat with Josh or not.
“Where you been Gab?”
“Changing?”
“Josh was telling me you got selection, way to go girl!”
Josh gave me a look, ‘who is she?' he mouthed.
“Er thanks.”
“Where's Mand?”
“Right here,” she stated from behind me.
“So you guys fancy celebrating?”
“Celebrating?” Mand queried as she sat down next to Josh.
“You know, a bit of a boogie, a drinky poo mayhap?”
“I know what it is,” Mand pointed out, “what have you got in mind?”
“Wellll there's an under eighteen's dance in Newport every Tuesday, we could like pop along tomorrow?”
“I could do with a bop like,” Josh offered.
“I'm not against the idea guys but two things, we're not supposed to leave the complex without permission and it's like two miles into the town, how'd we get there?”
“Good points Gab,” Mand allowed.
“You could ask and I'm sure we could get a bus in and taxi back.” Jess suggested, clearly unwilling to be deterred.
“No harm in asking,” Mand agreed.
“And this is at the church hall?” Caro confirmed half an hour later.
“Uh huh.” I'd somehow been elected chief petitioner.
“I'm not promising anything but let me talk with Steve, I'll let you know in the morning Drew.”
“Thanks Caroline.”
Well it wasn't a straight no but I wouldn't put money on a positive outcome. We ended up spending the rest of Monday evening in the common room playing computer games and talking about Denmark. They had a Wii with some sort of gymnastics thing on it, which Jess mashed everyone else at; by comparison I sucked worse than Jamie who has two left feet.
I've not really told you the outcome regarding that have I, well all the girls get to go, Manda, Laura and Claire for the road race, Mand doubles up with Sal for the time trial. The lad's team has me and Geth against the clock then I join Mark, Jamie, Dar and Josh for the massed start. That means that John, Steve and David have missed the cut, John was making snidey remarks about the selection but the others were more philosophical – they were still on the squad after all.
“Drew?” Caro caught me as I headed to the breakfast queue, “ A minute please.”
“Sure,” I agreed, “what's up?”
She drew me to one side, “This shindig tonight, I've spoken with the powers that be and you are cleared to go.”
“Yes!”
“There are two conditions though.”
I wouldn't have expected otherwise, wished but not expected.
“Okay.”
“Firstly we can't restrict this to just the three of you so its open to everyone, we'll take anyone who wants to go in the bus and collect you afterwards.”
“What about Jess and the other skaters?”
“I reckon there'll be room for a few extras.”
“The other condition?”
“I shouldn't need to say it at this point, but it's to act according to your positions as representatives of BC, behave yourselves and avoid any incidents.”
“'Kay.”
“Go eat, it's a tough day today.”
“Oh?”
“We're off to hit a few hills, not exactly the Alps but a little more testing than the roads around here.”
Nice, I think.
“So?” Mand enquired when I joined her and Laura by the window.
“Looks like you guys get to break out the dancing shoes.”
“Re-sult!” Mand punched the air.
“Dancing shoes?” Laura queried.
“If you're up for it there's a dance in Newport tonight.”
“Boys?”
“Behave girl,” Manda instructed.
“I was only asking.”
“Yes boys,” I noted, “there're conditions.”
“Don't tell me, no snogging.” Mand suggested.
“It wasn't mentioned, no we have to be on our best behaviour though, Caro didn't say but I guess we could still lose our slots.”
“Lose our slots?” Josh repeated.
“Tonight's on man.” I informed him.
“But we need to be on our best behaviour.” Laura stated.
“Nearly forgot, we get bussed there and back too.”
“Brill, I wasn't looking forward to the bus ride,” Mand told us.
“Why not?”
“Just don't like getting on buses all dressed up.”
It sounded like there was more but it's not like I'm as inquisitive as some girls I know so I didn't press it.
I was heading back to my room for my cycling gear when I almost literally ran into Jess.
“What's the rush Gab's?”
“Long ride today, glad you're here tho', tonight's on.”
“It was worth asking then,” she smiled.
“Yeah, we get taxied there and back too.”
“Alright for some.”
“You as well, and any of the other skaters who're going.”
Her face immediately brightened up, “I'll talk to the other girls, I'm sure a couple more will come.”
“No mucking about though Jess.”
“As if!”
“Seriously, we can't afford any trouble.”
“Don't worry Gab, you're Aunty Jessica will look after you.”
“That's what I'm afraid of.”
Unlike previous rides today we were driving out to our playground, the mountains on the Welsh side of the border above Oswestry, well that's what Steve told us anyhow. The drive only took a little over an hour, across to Shrewsbury then Welshpool and up into the hills finally pulling into a car park by the Llanwyddyn Hotel over looking some sort of lake.
“Okay everyone, get togged up, times a wastin'. We'll have two groups, Drew and Josh. You'll be with Caroline and the girls, rest of you lucky souls have me.”
There was the expected groan at that of course. For my part I could have been miffed at getting stuck with Mand and co but I'm sure they have their reasons. I collected my steed, after checking my tyres and brakes I rolled over to where Caro was strapping her Mofa helmet on. Well you didn't expect her to actually ride did you?
We were soon all assembled and ready for action.
“Okay ladies and gentlemen,” Caroline started, “this morning we've got a circuit of about seventy kilometres ahead of us. The scenery might not be the same but the terrain isn't dissimilar to what we'll find in Switzerland, some of these roads are quite narrow and lumpy so please take care. We aren't racing here but I do expect a decent pace and I may be calling some spot sprints.
Drew, Josh, I don't want you destroying the girls; I'd like you to use your experience to encourage your teammates. Everyone bottled and bared?” we all confirmed we were ready, moments later Caro had the Mofa started and we headed out onto the road.
We set off to head clockwise around the lake, quickly forming up into pairs and without prompting starting a single rotation – the road clearly wasn't wide enough for a double and with only six of us it was more sensible. It didn't take us long to shake out the cobwebs and by the time my comp had five kilometres showing we comfortably spinning along at around thirty kph.
It might be summer, August even but this is England, well Wales which for weather is the same thing, where was I, oh yeah weather. Yes it's tolerably warm, we're talking short sleeves and shorts however there's not much blue above us and there are a couple of dark clouds amongst the mass of water vapour passing above us.
“This ah can do man.” Josh mentioned with a grin.
“We've got to go over that I reckon.” I pointed out, indicating the upland ahead of us.
“Don't spoil it like.”
“Whatever turns you on.”
Mand followed me through on the rotation.
“Turns you on?”
“Josh was just saying he was enjoying it.”
“Not for long I bet, it must go up soon.”
“Next left,” Caro called out from behind us.
I'm sure everyone heard but I signalled left turn anyhow and in metres we turned away from the lake to start our first climb of the day. Higher mountains reared in front of us as the tarmac started to climb, not overtly steep but with enough gradient to shut down the chat and reduce the rotation to a six-rider blob.
“Keep it steady Drew.” Caro instructed .
A quick glance through my arm revealed I had several bike lengths over Laura, Sal matching her pedal stroke to pedal stroke. I eased off a little and let the others come up to me, Manda taking over the pace making. I figured it would be better to sit behind for a bit so I slipped to the back.
“Thanks Drew, don't want the girls burning out this soon trying to chase you.” Caro mentioned pulling alongside me.
“It's difficult to hold back.”
“You need to discipline yourself, there will be times when patience will be a virtue you can't ignore in your race arsenal.”
I think I get what she means.
“Car up!” Josh called out.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 05.05.13
Chapter *8*
Welsh Rarebit
Singling out to let the car pass broke our rhythm a bit resulting in me needing to pace Sal back up to the others. It wasn't so much steep as energy sapping; not steep enough to honk but steep enough that you want to. A sign pronounced Bwlch–y-Groes which turned out to be the summit of the climb. I took a swig from my bottle as we turned downhill, no time to appreciate the view.
After an initial steep bit into the valley the descent levelled some and with Josh in the lead we rode line astern clipping fifty k's from time to time.
“T at the end, turn right,” Caro warned.
I moved forward as we arrived at the junction but we had to stop anyhow as a tourist coach blocked the road in its attempt to get into a car park.
Whoot whooo!
The unmistakable sound of a steam locomotive's whistle rent the air and beyond the coach a smoky cloud drifted across the road. By the time the king-size people carrier, it was actually from Bonn, I recognized the Univers name; there was something of a traffic jam. We finally got going again, the road becoming straight and level.
“Rotation!”
We were soon spinning along at a good pace alongside another lake. Up ahead the steam train came into view and we started to overhaul the tourist carrier. The line runs parallel to the road so it turned into a bit of a drag race, everyone giving their all even if Josh and I were doing longer turns. Suddenly we caught up and started overhauling the iron horse, the reason became apparent as a line side halt came into view.
Our pace started to ease to match.
“Don't slow down, keep the pace up.” Our director instructed.
“Slave driver,” Laura muttered.
“But our slave driver.” I added soto voce.
Without the train to pace us our speed never quite regained the previous kph but when a second train was spotted there was a little blip until we realised it was heading toward us! The timing was good as the level crossing was open by the time we reached it, there was a certain amount of tourist activity as it marked the other end of the line but we got through without stopping and made our turn without incident.
Coming alongside Caroline started on some new instructions, “We'll be hitting another climb shortly, Drew I want you to drop back, give the others a chance to tackle it without you in the mix. You go straight into it as we make the next turn, we'll regroup on the descent.”
It sort of made sense, she wanted to see the others climb not go into self-destruct mode chasing me. I eased off the back and let the others pull away taking the opportunity to grab a mouthful of energy bar and a slurp out of my bidon. Ahead of me I spotted the others, now best part of five hundred metres away, make the turn onto the climb.
There was a gap in the traffic that I gratefully took, oh shitza! It wasn't just a climb, oh no, hairpins and 20% warning signs greeted me within metres. Up above Caro's moped was complaining fit to expire, if it's that bad I need to change my tactic. I dropped the chain to the small ring and took it up a couple of sprockets at the rear.
Momentum all but gone I steeled myself for the worst. A car accelerated past into the first left-hander, must be a local as he shot around without issue. A glance behind allowed me to take a wider line, out of the saddle, down a gear, another and I was round. Ahead warning arrows and something changing down the gearbox indicated worse to come.
The downhill bound vehicle was another coach who I met as I went into turn two, he was very wide and I flicked towards the kerb as it swung past. Yeah it's all right for you, I'm going up! I took the corner and my heart sank as the next came into view. Not just the corner but what looked like Sal and a few metres above her, Claire. Steady does it, up on the pedals, down another gear, keep the breathing even. I slowly clawed my way around the bend, overhauling Sal as we came out of the corner.
“Keep it going.” I encouraged .
“Gungh!”
Whilst we were up the steepest bit we were still on a considerable gradient that allowed me to close on Claire pedal stroke by pedal stroke. Up ahead the whining moped was only about two hundred metres away; I'd have them easily by the top. Claire was blowing hard when I drew alongside; she's going to struggle to get up the rest at this rate.
“Dig in.”
Another grunt in reply as I passed.
Caroline was aware that being dropped like this is soul destroying which is why I was banished behind in the first place. To me this is just another climb, to Sal and Claire this is like Everest and my racing past won't lessen that. I looked ahead to the others, climbing steadily in a tight group, a look behind revealed I already had a good twenty metres over Claire, that does it.
I waited for a couple of cars to come past then turned around dropping back past Claire before returning to going uphill just behind Sal.
“Wotcha,” gasp, “doing?”
“Getting you to the top.”
“I'm crap,” ugh, “at hills.”
“You can be better, you're trying to force it, you need to relax.”
“If,” gasp, “you say so.”
“You're up the worst bit by the looks of things so we can work on your technique.”
It took a minute or two but we got her breathing and with it her heart rate under control, a change of gear and riding position and we started to make ground on Claire ahead of us. I stayed with Sal until we gained her wheel only then sending her ahead.
Claire's head dropped as she realised who had overtaken her, I nearly rode into her wheel as her pace dropped immediately.
“Whoa!”
“Gurgh.” Gasp.
I pulled alongside and proceeded to give her a few metres push, I couldn't keep it up, I'm not strong enough but it got her turning the pedals again.
“Come on C, if Sal can do it you can.”
Sal was now riding steadily a few metres ahead of us.
“I'm knackered.”
“So don't waste so much energy, how're you going to cope in Italy and Switzerland?”
That seemed to do the trick and by the time we emerged into open country the previously increasing gap up to the others was slowly but steadily closing again. We rode steadily, the girls now looking much better than they had been a few minutes ago. I've seen this sort of climb elsewhere, the summit, or close to it, visible a couple of kilometres ahead. I'm not sure if Caroline was aware of what was going on behind her but the hundred metre gap started to increase again as they dialled up the speed.
“Come on, they're not getting away with that,” I asserted .
“They'll wait on the other side,” Claire wheezed at us .
“They might but it won't happen in a race.”
“He's right Claire,” Sal agreed.
“I reckon we can get up to them before the top; we can rest on the downhill.”
“Alright then,” Claire sighed.
“Just hang on to my wheel.”
Having spent a good chunk of the climb at a slower pace than I'd have chosen I was reasonably fresh so cranking up the pace wasn't too much of a deal. Making sure it wasn't too much for the others was more difficult but the gap started to close again.
Caroline was obviously paying more attention than I thought as she let the others go ahead allowing us to overtake her in short order.
“Well done girls,” she beamed.
“Urgh!”
The lack of breath now was due to the serious effort going into the chase, I had to swing off shortly after for a breather but with the front group less than fifty yards away first Sal then Claire took a bash at pace setting. With the mopeds engine behind giving encouragement we didn't quite make contact by the summit but we weren't far over when two became one.
“What happened to you man? I was expecting you miles back like.” Josh opined as we took a breather when the road tipped downwards.
“Just getting the girls up.”
“Aye we dropped them on the first bend, they were manic eh?”
“Not nice, I came up to them on the steep bit.”
Caroline disturbed our tête a tête. “Come on you two, we've got some lunch booked in half an hour back at the Llanwyddyn.”
Hmm, food.
“Come on guys, let's wind this thing up!”
“Flippin' Germans always wanting to push the envelope!” Mand groaned even as she selected a higher gear.
It was a fast descent, a bit bouncy in places, not too much traffic apart from the parked cars in the village about halfway down. At the next junction we made another right hand turn, back home we usually race and train clockwise to avoid turning across the traffic, here in blighty it's the other way around. Although it was a ‘B' road it was pretty narrow and we soon lined out as we started to climb easily up the narrow valley. The top of the pass wasn't high; there was no significant gradient to master so we held together pretty well. The final descent back to today's base we used for a warm down, the midday sun was making a valiant attempt at warming things up.
“‘Bout time, we were gonna eat yours if you didn't arrive soon.” Geth grinned when we trooped into the back room BC had arranged.
“Get yourselves some food girls, “ Steve instructed, “we'll talk about what we've done this morning while you eat.”
It was a buffet lunch, nothing spicy of course but a reasonable selection of salad stuff, meat, cheese and so on, fruit for dessert. Of course everyone had a good appetite, the lads were just about finished when we arrived so we had to put up with their jibes as we ate.
I had wondered why the lads hadn't caught us on our loop, it turns out that they had spent the morning circling the lake outside concentrating on time trialling technique – over the Channel they don't do the fast flat roads that are the staple of UK time trialling. We tend to have more technical circuits of no fixed length so it's all about the ride on the day.
“I think we made some big advances today,“ Caro stated, “Sally, Claire, you both happier with climbing now?”
“A bit,” Sal agreed, “when Drew passed me on that climb it was like ‘how's he doing that', it was like there was a motor on his bike. When he came back and broke it down, you know, breathing, position, cadence it all made sense. It's not like I'll ever be a great climber but I reckon I've got a chance of hanging in with the bunch.”
“Like Sal says, I didn't get it when we talked about it before but it sort of clicked today.”
By now I was well into blush mode.
“What about you Drew, I didn't tell you to help Claire and Sally.”
“Well I erm thought, well the speed they were going we'd miss lunch so anything that got them up the hill was good.”
That caused a few chuckles, it was clearly a lie and everyone knew it but I didn't have the words to explain properly and Caro didn't push it.
“Okay then,” Steve got our attention, “my lot, front and ready five minutes, girls, you've got another fifteen.”
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 06.05.13
Chapter *9*
Small Gains
“Flippin cheek, there's two lads here too,” Josh mumbled.
“Don't worry big boy, you can be an honory girl,” Manda giggled.
“What about me?” I complained in an attempt at macho-ness.
Mand just gave me a look; well okay I didn't press things.
"Okay ladies, gentlemen, this afternoon we are going to concentrate on your skills against the clock. I know some of you are quite accomplished at this discipline, and discipline is a big part of success here, but I think you'll all learn something useful this afternoon." Caroline started the session.
"Shouldn't we have time trial bikes like?" Josh suggested.
"Believe it or not we haven't always had all the fancy kit that you might associate with trialling and whilst useful in your careers you won't always have the like at your disposal. So today we are going to concentrate on making the most of what you will have every time, your heads. So how might we use our head in a time trial, apart from resting our helmet there? Anyone?"
"Pacing?" Sal offered.
"Good, anything else?"
There was an exchange of embarrassed looks.
"What about how we ride?"
"Which gear we're in?" Claire tried.
"Okay, so our pace, use of the gears, come on guys, I know you all try to do this when you're racing."
None of us managed to come up with anything else.
"No? How about the racing line?"
Geez, something that obvious.
"Right then, Drew, tell us about the racing line, as it might affect you in a time trial."
Why me?
"Er I guess it's the fastest route between the start and finish."
"Excellent." Caro grinned.
"That's obvious innit?" Manda pointed out, "fastest one wins like."
"While that's true in principal it's not necessarily true in practice. Let's have a bit of a ride and you'll see what I mean, there's a lay by about a mile and a half up this side of the lake, I'll see you there."
I forgot to say, Steve and Caro have swapped modes of transport so we've got the bus this afternoon and Steve is puttering over the hills on the moped. We set off and assumed a paired formation for the ride along the lake, a comfortable twenty-five – thirty kph. The bus passed us after a couple of minutes but given the distance to the lay-by Caro had barely got it parked before we arrived.
“Okay, we're going to do a bit of an experiment, how are your legs feeling, Drew?”
“Okay I guess.”
“And I think we'll have Sally as you're both doing the tt in Denmark. Okay, the two of you are going to do a short time trial for us, there's another parking area about a mile further on I want you both to ride from there to here, there's not a prize so actual time doesn't matter but the distance you cover does. Sally, I want you to ride all the way about a metre from the curb and Drew you get to pick the fastest line, there is a bit of traffic on this road so ride safely both of you, we'll need to compare your comp readouts afterwards so if you reset before you start, questions?”
“Ut uh,” Sal managed.
“Drew?”
“Fine,” I agreed.
“Off you go then, stop at that sign over there.”
The pair of us clicked in and set off, the ride up to the next car park took us five minutes; a car did pass us, the first since we left the hotel.
“You ready?”
“I guess, anything coming?” Sal enquired.
A quick check behind gave no indication of approaching traffic, “Looks clear.”
“Here goes nothing.”
She pushed off and headed back towards the others. I got myself ready and waited for the rest of the minute before setting off myself. I got myself up to a reasonable speed and started planning my line for the bends ahead. Tight to the curb for the first left hand bend, swing out to the white line for the right hander, back to the curb as the road turns left again before moving slightly wider for the straight to the ‘finish'.
I know it wasn't a race but I'd got into the groove almost catching Sal in the process! We turned back to where the others were waiting at the bus.
“Okay?” Caro queried.
“Yup.”
“So Sally, how far did you travel?”
“Er one point three five kilometres.”
“Drew?”
“One point two five.”
Caro scribbled the numbers at the top of her wipe board.
“If I remember rightly the road goes something like this.” She did a reasonable sketch of the course below for everyone to see. “So Sally rode the testers line, time trial courses are supposed to be measured like this to give a fixed distance, in this case a thousand and thirty five metres. If you read the tt handbook it's in the rules that you should ride in this position on the road.
Obviously people move from this but on traditional out and back courses it was reckoned everyone would indeed cover the same distance as it would even itself out.
Now if I know Drew he used a completely different line, can you draw your line on here for us.”
I took the marker and drew a second line that wobbled about somewhat more than Sal's.
“That's about it I think.”
Caro looked at my artistic contribution before continuing, “So we've already ascertained that Drew didn't ride as far as Sally, a full hundred metres. If we look at the route he used we can see he's tighter to the curb on the left than Sally was before really cutting across to the white line through the apex of the sharper right hand bend. He then returns to the curb for the last bend before following a similar line to the finish.”
“It's bound to be shorter, he cut the corner.” Laura put in.
“Anything else?”
“It's an easier line?” Mand offered.
“Easier line, why's that important?”
“You don't have to slow down so much?” Claire suggested.
“Yud need a brick wall to slow Drew doon,” Josh opined.
“Says the Express,” I retorted.
“Guys!”
“Er soz Caroline.”
“So if we take the shortest route it'll be faster?” she challenged.
“Course.” Laura agreed.
“Anyone else?”
“Seems logical.” I mentioned.
“Just supposing that the shortest route went like this," she drew a third line on the ‘road', one that hugged one edge then dived to the other and back after the corner. “So if this line measures ten metres less than Drew's would that make it faster?”
She was hinting at something here.
“Drew, why did you pick your line like you did?”
“To keep it smooth and fast.”
“So why didn't you stay on the white line?”
“I thought it'd be faster this way.”
“Okay so Drew picked this line not because it's the shortest but because it's the quickest, there's no point taking a short cut if it takes longer than the alternative. Anyone think of a situation where this really makes a big difference?”
“That hairpin this morning,” I suggested.
“Okay; can you tell us why?”
“Well it's not so steep if you go wide so further is quicker.”
“Is it the same going downhill?”
“Sort of, you can keep more speed on the wider line and it's safer.”
“Thanks Drew, so we might take a different line around the corners depending on whether we are climbing, descending or on the flat. Some of you are already pretty good trialists, others not so and we'll be doing some more work with you all on technique and style. Today though we are going to concentrate on getting you riding the fastest line, not the shortest always.
“We've had mixed success on the international stage against the clock despite a strong background in the discipline, largely due to an inability to adapt. In Denmark you'll be on a closed circuit, you can use as much of the road as you like but you need to use it wisely. It's not going to be a drag strip, you can lose time as well as save it, small gains in a good line might be the difference between podium and also ran.
“Everyone got that? Any questions?”
Made sense to me, not sure about the others but apart from some mumbling no one queried anything.
“Right then, I want you to pair up, Josh and Claire, Laura and Sally, Drew and Amanda. Ride around the lake and look at the road in terms of what we've just discussed, we'll ride round in the bus afterwards to discuss your choices. Back at the hotel by three.”
“My legs'll be worn out before we get to the dance.” Mand complained a few minutes later.
“It's not that bad.”
“Maybe for Super Bond , but for us mere mortals, that ride this morning was hard.”
“I had to use the little ring up those hairpins.”
“I rest my case.”
“Well this is hardly gonna raise a sweat.”
“Looking at the sky we might get rained on though.”
I glanced up at what bit of sky was visible from the valley bottom, “Maybe.”
“We supposed to make notes or something?”
“She never said, guess we just make mental notes, it's not like we can read when we're racing.”
“Good point, so what're you wearing tonight?”
“I've not got a lot with me, I'm sure I can find something.” I've got a half decent shirt and some chinos.
“Me neither, might see if Jess has anything, bet she has.”
Jess, I hope she behaves tonight.
“Watch that pothole!”
Mand's warning broke my daydream; I can do without breaking the bike or me now.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 09.05.13
Chapter *10*
Lily The Pink
When we returned to the Hotel car park, first order was to rack the bikes in the trailer after which we held our debriefing – in the bus as it had started to rain.
“Right then,” Caro ended the discussion, “ let's take a look at the real thing.”
I'm sure the others did more riding this morning but I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. We drove around the course, Caro giving a running commentary as we went. A couple of times we stopped for a bit more discussion.
“Look up the road, can you see how it bends to the right? If you clip the corner back here you'll have to correct your line about fifty metres further on and possibly again before we set up for the next corner. If we turn in later at a shallower angle it's actually faster as we'll be holding a straighter line for longer. Everyone okay with that?”
“So instead of the best line here we get a better line later?” Laura queried.
“That's it, if we take the corner in isolation the first line would be better but we need to connect the corners so we might need to concede time on a corner to gain valuable seconds on the exit and any following straight.
Okay then, Josh, where we do we head to next?”
And so we proceeded to break up the circuit into small sections connected by sometimes unexpected lines avoiding sharp turns as much as possible to keep a constant flow. It was after four when we pulled into the car park again to find the bedraggled lads waiting for us.
“Wondered where you were?” Steve stated, “Josh lad, give us a hand with the bikes please.”
“He knew where we were.” Caroline muttered to herself. “Anyone need the lav's make use now, we'll be leaving as soon as the trailer's loaded.”
I learnt long ago to take advantage of any stop; you never know when the next chance will be, so I followed the others into the hotel to use the facilities. My shorts were feeling a bit icky so I took a cubicle and after half undressing to get out of my bibs sank onto the seat. I pushed my gear down so I could release my bladder and with a sigh let go.
‘At least they have proper toilet roll.' I mused as the flow dried up, pulling a wad off the roll. For some reason I decided to check my shammy – you often notice gung e from boils and stuff there before you feel them, oh sugar! No boils, oh no but blood nevertheless – not lots but more than enough, shit, the drain must be leaking.
A quick investigation confirmed that as the source, whilst the ‘mones are supposed to stop a full on ovulation the Doc did say this could happen, just what I need. I must've used half a roll of loo roll trying to clean myself up, this could get messy if things keep on, toilet roll won't do much of a job in stemming the flow. Sugar!
“You seen Drew?” Mand's voice enquired from outside the gents.
“Not since lunch.” Jamie replied.
“‘S'funny, he headed for the loo."
“He's no in there now.”
I didn't hear anything else as the door closed with a thud at that point. Bum, bum, bum! Wait a minute, Handy; I'm sure it's in my pocket. I fished in my jersey pockets and yes! One mobile phone. Not a good signal, still it's worth a go, I found Mand on my directory and hit dial.
“Hey , Mand, your phone's been going doo-lally.” Claire advised when she returned to the bus.
“Probably Mum, anyone seen Drew?”
“Thought he went to the loo , ” Sal suggested.”
“He did but no one's seen him since."
Bicycle, bicycle race. Bicycle, bicycle race. A digital rendition stated.
“That's Drew!” Mand stated grabbing her phone from the pocket of her tracky top, “Drew? Where are you?”
“Finally, where were you?”
“Looking for you, where are you?”
“In the lav.”
“You can't be, Jamie's looked.”
“I know, look it's kinda embarrassing, I've er got a situation.”
“Hang on, it's a bit public here.”
I could hear her getting out of the bus and walking a few steps away. ‘Don't go far Amanda, we're off as soon as Drew gets here.' Caro's voice advised before Mand came back on the line.
“You got the shits or something?”
“Erm yeah, the something.”
“Like what?”
“Er, you've not got any towels with you?”
“It's not raining that hard.”
“Geez, not that sort of towel, the sort with wings?” I hinted.
“Eh?”
“I thought I was the dumb blonde ; to go in your knickers?”
The penny finally dropped, “ Y ou're on, no hang on you can't be!”
“Keep your voice down, I'll explain later, have you got any or not?”
“Course.”
“Any chance I can borrow one?”
“You can have one but I don't want it back.”
“Ha de har, anytime soon?”
“Give me a minute.”
“Thanks.” I sighed.
“So where is he?” Laura enquired.
“He's er got cramp, can't walk, I'm gonna fetch him.”
“Who's got cramp?” Caroline asked.
“Drew.” Claire supplied.
“Where is he?”
“I'll take you.” Mand stated, grabbing her bag from the seat.
“Drew? You in there?”
“Mand?”
“That's me, I'm coming in.”
Well to cut that bit out, I was soon dressed and washing my hands free of the sticky red mess they'd acquired.
“Before we go back out, the truth now Drew.” Caroline wasn't exactly a happy bunny.
“The Doc said it might happen, nothing to worry about honest, I just wasn't expecting it.” Not strictly true, he actually said I should stop riding for a day or two if it did happen.
“Hmm, well the docs will be checking you out back in Manchester.”
“'Kay.”
“For now you need to limp back to the bus, everyone thinks you've had cramp.”
The drive back to Lilleshall was not exactly the most comfortable, it was like wearing two pairs of cycling shorts, and despite my attempts to clean myself I was distinctly sticky down there. TMI for sure.
“Those going to the dance need to be here at reception at seven sharp.” Steve instructed.
“Not sure I feel like going.”
“You can't not go, Drew,” Mand whined.
“Watch me.”
“You'll feel better after a shower, er you need another towel?”
“Got some in the room,” I admitted.
“Please, Drew.”
“Okay, see you in the dining room in half an hour then.”
My decent stuff, whilst not dirty was, in typical boy fashion, not exactly pressed having spent most of the week squashed into the bottom of my kit bag. Still it'll have to do, I'm going for a bop not to pick up chicks after all. I was halfway through my liver and bacon casserole before Mand turned up.
“Thought you hadn't got anything to wear?”
“I don't, I borrowed this from Jess.”
‘This' could best be described as a slightly risqué concoction which seemed to be made up of a couple of acres of pink chiffon and not much else.
“You like?”
“It's er interesting.” I allowed, “Jess meeting us here?”
“Yeah, I take it you are changing to go.”
“I have, what's wrong with these?”
“You cannot be serious, don't you have an iron?”
“Not on me, it's only a church hall dance.”
“Only she says, all the locals'll be done up like dogs dinners and you plan on turning up looking like you've been run over by a tractor.”
“It's clean.” I mentioned in defence.
“If you say so.”
Jess was going for the more mature look, arriving in an LBD that my Mum would wear.
“Hey Lily in pink! That really suits you , Mand.”
“Thanks but look at you.” Mand stated.
“Nice, tres chic,” I offered.
“You cannot be serious, Gab!” Jess gasped spotting me.
“Not you too.”
“Why're you dressed like that, I mean if you are going for the gender bending look you're failing badly, even that scotch lad looks better dressed.”
“I'm not.”
“So what's with the er blokey Miami Vice© look then?”
“They're my best trousers.”
“Pah! You are not going to the dance dressed like that, come on let's get you sorted out.”
“There's no time, it's ten to seven.”
“Geez, you've not even put on any makeup! Mand, get us like ten minutes?”
“No probs.”
“Mand!” I appealed.
“Come on, girl, let's get you glammed up, we're supposed to be celebrating not going on a grunge trip.” She stated half dragging me from the dining room.
Glammed up! For heavens sake. Hang on; we are talking Jess here, Jess who despite obvious appearances insists on calling me Gaby – sugar! She doesn't just call me Gaby, she thinks I am Gaby, that is Gaby the girl, bum, bum, bum! This is not going to end well!
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 10.05.13
Chapter *11*
Dance Away
“You on?”
“Huh?” it's not bad enough I've been dragged to Jess's room where I'm stood here in my undies but now she's talking gibberish.
“You're wearing a pad.”
On? Oh right, “Just some spotting.” I allowed, which isn't a lie.
It's not like at this point I can say ‘whoa girl I'm really a boy, look I've got all the kit!' nope, I'm stood here filling my sports bra rather too well with a panty pad making more visual impact than my boy bits in my definitely girly knickers – well they're more comfortable after all.
“Here put these on, I've got some black sandals you can borrow.” She thrust what turned out to be a pair of nearly black low denier tights and a push up bra.
“Jess.” I complained.
“Get a move on, we've got to get some slap on and do your hair.”
I'm not going to get out of this am I? With a sigh I swapped boob support, Jess is the same cup but a size bigger than me, a bit of fiddling with the shoulder straps had my chest looking like I'd sprouted a pair of footballs with a cleavage to match. With consummate skill gained through years of practice my legs were soon encased in the near transparent nylon and my tormentor was starting on my face.
“Sit still!”
“I am, you poked me in the eye.”
“Cos you moved.”
I'll not win that argument.
“You're not doing anything weird?”
“Well duh, it's a dance.”
What's that supposed to mean? I try to avoid makeup if I can, a bit of massy and lip gloss cos it's expected but anything else is on a need to use basis like at the wedding. As a result my attempts can be a little heavy handed, Jess by comparison is an Olympic champion, deftly applying the assorted paints and powders to my peepers and grinning gear. Hair I'm better with but I've never mastered French plaits, Jess had my hair in a fancy chignon in mere moments.
“That'll do, let's get you in the dress.”
The dress was actually better than I'd been expecting if a little shorter than I'd like; a black lycra tube with transparent sleeves and décolletage decorated with some big flocked spots – quite classy except it doesn't reach far down my thighs!
“Spot on, we'll sort your nails on the way, come on or we'll be late!”
And whose fault would that be?
By the time we careened into reception it was closer to quarter past and everyone else was already in the minibus.
“I take it you are Jess and Gaby?” Steve enquired as I attempted to make the dress cover a bit more.
“That's us!” Jess agreed.
“Well hop to it girls, we were only waiting for you, Amanda said you didn't get to dinner until late.”
“Yeah, training.”
We headed out to the bus and squeezed in next to Mand as our chauffeur climbed in up front.
“Hi Gab,” Mand emphasised, “you two only just made it, Steve was gonna leave if you hadn't turned up by quarter past.”
Instead of which I'm sat in the BC minibus done up like a dog's dinner with my teamies sat around me; I am in like so much deep doo doo if they find out who I am.
“Said we'd be here,” Jess replied to Mand's greeting.
“Who're your friends?” Geth asked from behind.
“Just Gaby and Jess, she's a skater.” Mand suggested.
“Nice to meet you girls, I'm Geth, the Ging up front is Jamie and the Toon here is Josh.”
“We've already met man and stop calling me a Toon ah told you I'm from Gateshead like.”
“Whatever,” Geth sighed.
The other girls, that is to say the other BC girls just about managed a ‘ hi' - suddenly there was more competition.
“We'll have to finish these off when we get there, we're bouncing about too much.”
Painting fingernails in a moving minibus in pretty much pitch black was never going to work was it?
“Looks like we're there.” Mand noted as Steve pulled the bus into the kerb after the short drive from the centre of excellence.
We were already attracting some attention from the teens assembled across the street apparently waiting to enter the venue. Intimidating, not many! The assembled throng had a distinct female bias but no particular consensus on dress style. I guess in a place like this there's not enough Goths, EMO's or whatever for them to do their own thing so the collection of outfits make my wardrobe look ordered!
“Okay everyone, bus'll be here at eleven sharp, I don't want to be waiting for anyone.” Steve started his speech. “Remember what you were told earlier, keep out of trouble you are representing your sports as well as enjoying yourselves. Go and have fun.”
We piled out, three lads, five girls and er me. Josh slammed the door shut with a, “Later man,” before our transport pulled away.
“How come your coach didn't recognise you?” Jess asked as she started on my nails again as we queued to get in.
“Guess he's never seen me glammed up before?” I suggested.
“He barely recognised me,” Mand attempted to ‘run interference'.
“That'll be because of that dress.” Claire observed, not that her own was much less revealing.
“So you girls are skaters then?” Sal mused.
“I've been known to hit the ice.”
“I don't know anyone who hits it more than you, Gabs.” Jess chuckled, however her statement sort of made it sound like I'm a skater.
It's all getting very complicated here, the only ones who actually know the truth are Josh and Manda, the rest of the bikies think I'm a skater and Jess thinks I'm really a girl that the others know – as a girl. If I live through tonight it'll be a miracle.
“Everyone got their money like?” Josh enquired as the queue edged towards the door. “If yer gis it he-ar, I can pay for everyone, save a bit of time.”
Entry is three quid a pop, not a fortune but maybe enough to put off casual trouble. Everyone was in agreement so we gathered the dosh together in readiness.
“Stick it in your bag, Gaby, you's can be banker.” Josh instructed.
“A er okay I guess.”
“Nice one, Josh.” Geth crowed.
“You've either got it or not,” Josh grinned.
What's that all about?
“Nine please?”
“Nine?” the young woman collecting the pennies queried.
“Aye, the two ugly ones and the girls here like.” Josh confirmed.
“That's um,” you could see her mentally counting her fingers, “twenty eight pounds then.”
“Twenty seven.”
“No it's not, what're you trying to pull, I do know how to count you know.”
“So nine of us at three poonds is twenty seven.”
“Twenty eight.”
She was clearly not going to budge and instead of speeding our entry it was now causing a hold up.
“Josh, just pay her.”
“Yeah like listen to yer girlfriend, twenty eight quid.”
“Here.” I thrust our money into her waiting paws then had to wait as she counted it.
“There's not enough, it's two pound short.”
“Oh right, silly me,” I dug into my borrowed bag, “here you go, one, two.” By my counting that made us right, she really is bad with numbers not just trying it on, I'd deliberately only given her twenty five.
“That's it.” She tore off nine cloakroom tickets and slapped them into my hand, “One ticket, one buffet .”
Josh waved the others in before pulling me to one side.
“What are you up to, man? Yer Da said you were doing Drew while you're here.”
“That was the idea.” I sighed.
“So how come youse doing the Gaby bit like?”
“It's complicated.”
“Most things with you are.”
“I'll explain later.”
“Well I'll say this you make a canny lass all gussied up.”
“Um thanks, look Mand knows but no one else does, can we keep it that way?”
“Best not talk too much then, you might not look too much like yourself with all the makeup and stuff but yer still sound like Drew.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
“No sweat, hen.”
“What are you two plotting?” Jess enquired.
“Just saying that I wasna expecting food tonight.” Josh offered.
“There's food?”
“Yeah, some kind of buffet, I've got everyone's tickets in my bag.” I confirmed.
“Come on you lot, let's parteee!” Claire declared.
That seemed to rouse our group, we headed into the main hall to join the er throng of other partygoers.
As these things go it wasn't too bad, a cheesy local DJ supplied the tunes, most of which everyone knew as they could be called vintage, well not exactly current top forty anyhow. The assorted social groups kept pretty much to themselves, the Dark Ones in one corner, wannabe divas up by the stage putting on their ‘moves' and of course a distinct lack of males anywhere near the dance floor!
I'd guess that there were about a hundred kids present, the majority in the fifteen / sixteen age group , although clearly the few younger kids present were of the younger sibling variety. You'd pretty much expect some adult supervision, the middle aged vicar obviously trying for a bit of street cred even if he looked more out of place than a cat in the doghouse.
My borrowed dress wasn't the best choice for any serious boogying as it kept trying to show off my underwear; despite that I enjoyed myself jigging with the other girls. Turns out Jess is better on the ice than the dance floor. I must admit to having a silent giggle when they played Kylie's Locomotion due to her stumbling moves. But then me an' the girls back home have spent time practising that one.
Have to say tho Jess, this was a brilliant suggestion.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 11.05.13
Chapter *12*
Refreshed
Although the local ladies were a bit territorial to start with, well 'we' might be after their male companions, things soon settled down to a friendlier atmosphere and if anything it was 'our' boys who were in danger from them! Dances are very formulaic - long word for a Tuesday night, you know, like always ending with some slow stuff? Well the extended 'mix' mid evening always means it's refreshment time.
"Where're they getting the drinks?" Sal enquired when a couple of girls walked past bearing plastic cups of something fizzy.
"It said something about refreshments on the poster," Jess supplied.
"Must be in that room over there." Claire point ed across the currently deserted dance floor to where a good number of kids were gathered.
"Let's do it." Geth suggested in a pretty poor Schwarzeneger impression.
"Where's Mand?"
“Not sure, toilet maybe?” Sal suggested.
“I'll go find her, you guys fetch us some pop?”
“Kay,” Josh agreed.
Before you say anything, I do not have a toilet fixation. After the incident earlier today I'm not taking any chances so looking for Mand is a good excuse for paying a visit myself.
“You in there Mand?” I enquired of the only occupied cubicle.
There wasn't a reply but I'm sure it was occupied even if no one was owning up to be inside. Oh well, best do my stuff and get back, I'm gasping for a drink.
“Where've you been?” Jess demanded.
“To powder my nose, didn't you guys get any drinks?”
“We couldn't,” Jamie stated.
“Why not?”
“Someone had the tickets.” Claire suggested, “The tickets that you exchange for the drinks and snacks.”
“Tickets?”
“I um think they're in your bag Gab?” Josh suggested.
A quick check discovered the missing dockets, “Oops!”
“You can be so blonde sometimes Gaby,” Mand observed.
“Where've you been, you weren't in the toilets.”
“Just er grabbing some air,” s he blushed.
“Geth, Jamie, let's get the supplies while the ladies hold their inquest.” Josh recommended relieving me of the slips of paper.
“Some sense at last!” Geth agreed.
The snap wasn't anything exceptional, a paper plate with a few crisps, a mini sausage roll, some chopped apple and a couple of those mini cracker things with squeezey cheese on. The drinks were just as basic, orange, cola or lemonade but at least they came in a three-mouthful size , rather than standard one gulp plastic cups! Okay so although I really only wanted the drink but when the guys brought the plates out – well it looked a bit sorry lying there on the plate.
I think the DJ had something a bit stronger than lemonade, when he returned to spinning the discs the tempo was altogether more frenetic. Where the first session had been quite civilised now the atmosphere was more erm, edgy I guess. Okay, I'll admit it, the German charts are not exactly full of edgy rock, think David Hasselhof rather than Beastie Boys, so the faster, heavier beats, well like I've heard some of this stuff of course but I wasn't expecting it tonight, here.
The hall became a sea of bouncing, excited, noisy teens united by the music, for a short while at least choices of clothing and social preferences forgotten. Clingy dress, dancing, warm evening – well I was soon in quite a lather wishing I was less covered, well my arms at least I don't think I could have much less below the waist although I was pretty tempted to remove my tights. Tough call but the hose stayed.
I mentioned the dance formula before, true to form our musical director all to o soon announced the last track, a suitably slow number from some woman named Wino or something like that.
“You fancy it like?” Josh enquired.
“Er, if you like.”
I've experience of slow dancing, Max's hands have a tendency to wander a bit, of course Will, I mean Prince William was pretty stiff by comparison – I guess he has to be. Josh's request whilst unexpected did at least protect me from being called out by one of the very ‘hands on' locals. Josh is no Astaire so I ended up taking the lead.
“Drew man.”
“Shh, Gaby,” I hissed.
“Yeah sorry like man, I just want'd to say, you do the girl bit really well.”
“You've seen me dressed before, bud.”
“Aye, that ah have but seeing youse here with all the other girls, well don't take this the wrang way like but there's a few gorls here which I'd pick as a lad before I got anywhere close to you.”
“I'll take that as a compliment.”
“What I mean is,” you could hear his noggin working, “you make a well pukka lass.”
“You do know I'd prefer not to.”
“Really? I know what your Da said aboot yer plumbing and stuff, I thought yer wanted to be a lass full time like.”
“Apart from here and racing I pretty much am already, have been since I moved to Germany.”
“How come? I thought like you only decided a few weeks back.”
“It's a long story, it wasn't exactly my choice.”
“This I hafta hear.”
“Not here, not tonight. Let's just say I'd far rather have acne and testosterone than boobs and monthlies.”
“Sorry man, I just assumed like.”
“You see what you see, it's not like we get much chance to talk is it.”
“What about tonight, you're fair gussied up for being He-man like.”
“Jess, she's always thought I'm a girl, I was in my best Drew gear ready to come out before she spotted me et Voila . It's a wonder no ones twigged it's me.”
“No worry there, dressed like that and all the makeup I doubt if anyone not looking could tell.”
“But you did.”
“Yeah but I've seen you in a frock before, these guys have na, at least not knowingly.”
“Manda knows.”
“Well she's not said anything has she?”
“Up to now.”
But can I rely on that? I guess only time will tell. The music faded down to be replaced by catcalls and cheering.
“Come on you two, Steve'll be waiting , ” Jamie prompted.
“Think you've scored there girl.” Jess enthused as we waited for our ride, Steve not being sat outside as we expected.
“Eh?”
“Josh, he's had his eye on you all night.”
“Josh!” I almost shouted.
“The one you were draped all over for the last dance,” she further suggested.
“Was not, we were talking.”
“If you say so.”
“I do,” I affirmed, “we ride for the same team, he's seeing one of the other girls on the team.”
“So you are interested.”
“I am so not! We're friends ok.”
“Well if you're not, I am.”
“Je-ss!”
“What'd I say?”
“Come on you two, bus is here.” Mand halted the conversation with her announcement.
The drive back to Lilleshall was longer than expected, an accident on the bypass being the cause of Steve's delay back at the hall.
“You all have a good time?”
“Great,” Claire enthused.
“Made a change from Corrie,” Laura noted.
“Glad you enjoyed yourselves, it's back to the grindstone tomorrow.”
“Don't remind us,” Geth sighed.
“I'll bring the dress to your room as soon as I've changed,” I whispered to Jess as we got out of the bus.
“No need, you can keep it, I've not got the curves you have.”
“But..”
“Yours ok.”
What's the point in arguing?
“Breakfast?”
“Definitely.”
“Night Jess, night, Gaby.” Laura called over.
“Night.”
“Good call Jess,” Sal added.
“Night girls,” Steve added to the exchange before heading to his own accommodation.
I managed to get to my room without being spotted, kicked off my shoes and with a sigh collapsed on my bed. What a night! Great fun but the whole Gaby thing right in front of my teammates – talk about playing with fire. Still I think I got away with it, no one said anything at least.
I can't believe Josh though, I mean, thinking I want to be a girl. Goodness knows where he got that idea, it's not like I go to races in a dress or anything, I do try to be Drew when I'm racing. Maybe I'm less successful at pulling off being Drew-boy than I thought. Think I'll shower in the morning.
That decided I removed my hose before peeling the dress off over my head in the process releasing by chest from the spandex' grip. I hadn't realised just how tight that dress was, at least my girls haven't been showing off too much all evening! A quick check in my pants, good no new blood. PJ's on, light off and to sleep – not.
I suppose I'm over tired now. Instead of sleep my mind wanted to re examine the day's events, randomly jumping from Welsh mountain to the chat with Josh, reliving my torture by toilet and this evening's festivity. I'm glad most of my life isn't this busy. Half one, come on Drew, let's get some shuteye.
One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, ouch! What the heck, ah Jess's earrings. I quickly removed the offending jewellery and tried again. One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, four sheep, five sheep, sick ship, seven sheeeep, ate shiep, nine lambs, no nein sheep, zehn…”
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 19.05.13
Chapter *13*
Finger Bobs
I woke to the incessant buzzing of my alarm and someone banging on the door.
“Come on Drew, you'll miss brekkie like.”
It took my addled brain cells a moment to identify the voice.
“It's early yet.”
“Finally, I've been knocking for ten minutes man.”
“What's so urgent? It's only half past.”
“Aye, half eight, were you not listening yesterday? Steve wants us loaded up in an hour.”
“Half eight!” I squealed, “It can't be, the alarm was set for seven thirty.”
“Everyone else is in the refectory eating like, so you coming or what?”
“Be there in ten minutes, could you like get me some food and a coffee?”
“See what I can do man, ten minutes.”
I scrambled out of bed, lost my jim-jams and crashed into the shower banging my toe in the process. It was only when I got to the mirror to sort out my hair that I discovered the remains of last nights makeup still on my face, not only that but my nails, my nails are painted a sort of dark red, hmm nice colour – but not on Drew's hands! Don't panic, phone, where's my handy, hope she's got it with her.
“Mand ?”
“Where are you?”
“You got any nail varnish remover?”
“Sure, what for?”
“Dur, last night?”
“Oops, meet me at my room.”
“Cheers Mand.”
I managed to use a trick that Goth Gurl passed on to me using baby oil, a staple in my kit bag, to get the makeup off before dragging some clothes on and almost flying out of my room.
“Think that's got most of it,” Mand stated.
“Yeah, stained a bit though,” I observed.
“No one's gonna notice, you'd best shake a leg.”
“Bum, yeah, thanks Mand.”
I made it to the now cold coffee and scrambled egg breakfast only a little before five to nine.
“Long ten minutes.” Josh noted.
“A um wardrobe malfunction.” I'm not gonna tell him what. “Thanks for brekkie.”
“Probably a bit rubbery by now.”
“It's okay, why's everyone wearing riding kit?”
“You really weren't listening yesterday were you, we're riding a chunk of the way to Manchester like.”
Mand returned to the table and drained her own coffee cup.
“Yeuk, anyone want another?”
“Aye please,” Josh nodded .
“Thanks.” I added passing her my cup.
“Bags to reception in thirty minutes.” Caroline stated as the refectory clock turned into the tenth hour.
“Sugar! Anyone seen Jess?”
“Not yet,” Mand answered.
“I um need to get some stuff from her.”
“And get ready,” Josh suggested.
“That too,” I agreed.
Packing's easy, scoop and dump – not pretty, not very girl but quick and effective. Grabbing my borrowed shoes and bra I hurried to Jess' accommodation.
“Jess? You there?”
Bum, where is she. I was running out of time, I checked to make sure no one was about and placed the shoes and BH by the door and was about to leave when Jess appeared at the other end of the corridor.
“Morning Gabs, great night yeah?”
“Not bad,” I allowed, “I brought your bra and shoes back.”
“I've got your stuff in a bag, hang on I'll get it.”
“Cheers.”
The thought of having to abandon my chinos and shoes had crossed my mind, not something I wanted to do.
“There you go girl, why you've got such ugly stuff though.” Jess handed me a carrier bag.
“Thanks, I um quite like them.”
“Guess you guys are leaving soon.”
“Uh huh, few minutes.”
“It's been a blast having you here.”
“Yeah it's had its moments.” I granted.
“I'm gonna miss you girl.”
“We can text and stuff.”
“I s'pose, tell everyone good luck with your racing.”
“I will and your skating, hope it turns out okay.”
“We'll see, come ‘ere.”
She pulled me into a hug.
“I meant it Gab, I really will miss you.”
“You too.”
“I was about to come find you Bond,” Steve pointedly observed.
“Sorry, had to go back for my lid.” I waved my helmet.
It might not be the real reason for my tardiness but I'm hardly gonna admit that I was late due to having borrowed the outfit I wore to the dance last night, as far as he knows I took a rain check. I'm glad I didn't and although I got through the evening undetected, I would've preferred Drew rather than Gaby to have gone.
“Okay, now we're all here, just a reminder, we'll be using some busy roads today so take care and be sensible. It's about seventy kilometres up to Knutsford so we should be there about lunchtime, we'll transfer by bus up to Droylsden then you've got the afternoon off.”
“Yay!” Laura offered.
“Right then, when you're ready Caroline.”
Caro had clearly drawn the short straw, getting to ride the moped behind us while Steve slacks off in the bus.
Pee-ut, put, put – the little two-stroke burst into life and suddenly our time at Lilleshall was over.
“Bye guys, bye Gab,” Jess called out as we set off.
“Bye Jess,” I waved as I got my cleat engaged.
It's become second nature to form into two columns, even new boy Josh dropped straight into formation, and under cloudy skies we headed out of the grounds and away from Lilleshall Hall.
We headed straight over the bypass and through Newport, passing last night's venue before crossing the river and starting the journey proper. Caroline encouraged a greater pace and by the time we reached the A41 we were warmed up and rotating at a steady thirty-five kph. Joining the relatively quiet trunk road Steve caught up to us and followed until we turned onto the Market Drayton road.
It was fairly busy through the town but once across the bypass we lost most of the traffic and Caroline was able to institute some training patterns, the sort of things we do when I go out with the Apollinaris riders back in Germany.
“Isn't that where your Gran lives?” Mand observed as we negotiated our way through Audlem.
“Where?”
“Nantwich, it was on the sign back there.”
“Yeah, I didn't realise we'd be going anywhere near there.”
“I could fancy one of her teas,” she suggested.
“Yeah.” I sighed, who knows when I'll next get to see her, Christmas I guess.
“So what're we doing this afternoon?”
“Doing?”
“Well I don't fancy sitting in that dingy lounge at the hostel watching afternoon telly.”
“Hadn't given it any thought.” Not beyond maybe catching up on my sleep.
“We could go into Manchester?”
“I guess.”
“There's supposed to be some good shops.”
“They're okay I guess.”
“You've been?”
“A few times, don't you go up to London, I'm sure the shops are better there.”
“Not very often, Mum doesn't like us going up the West End on our own so we usually go up Lewisham or out to Croydon.”
The place names didn't mean much to me but I gathered that neither was exactly considered top shopping destinations by the Capital's teenage population.
“I thought everyone went into London.”
“Nah, you?”
“Ut uh, did the Nationals at Eastway a couple of years ago but that's the only time I've been that way.”
“They're gonna close that if London gets the Lympics.”
“That's a pity, I enjoyed that.”
“How'd you do?”
“Josh was second.”
“I didn't know he was that good.”
“Yeah, us northerners teamed up, you know Kristen Oakley? She comes from Oxford way, well she helped us too.”
“Little blonde.”
“Um, I think she's taller than me.”
“Most people are.” She giggled. “What about you? Where'd you come?”
“First?”
“First? You never said you were National Champion, geez Drew.”
“Did you not notice the stripes on Drew's jersey sleeves?” Caro slipped in as we were now at the back of the train.
“No.”
“One day they'll be rainbows like Mum's.”* I stated.
* National champions have the right to have the national colours around their jersey sleeves, of course if you become World Champion the same option but in the rainbow stripes is permitted – Check out Cav's jerseys post 2012!
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 21.05.13
Chapter *14*
Girl Not Girl
“GRAN!”
My excitement at seeing her almost caused a pile up as I grabbed my brakes, those behind luckily managing to avoid running into me.
“What are you doing, Drew Bond?” Caro demanded.
“It's Gran.”
By now I was stopped and the rest were slowing in some confusion ahead of me.
“Where?”
“Over at the bookshop.” I pointed to where Josie had only just spotted the cyclists across the road.
“Hi Gran!” I shouted.
“Two minutes,” Caroline instructed, “what have you lot stopped for, the Winsford road.”
Spotting that we had stopped, Gran headed towards the road, a lull in the traffic allowed me to cross over so we met at the curb.
“Drew, what are you doing here?” she hugged me as best she could with me still on my bike.
“We're riding up to Knutsford.”
“Your mum said you were down near Telford.”
“Yeah we're going back to Manchester today, then we go to Italy at the weekend,” I enthused.
“Quite the little globetrotter aren't we?”
“Not as much as Mum.”
“That's what a geography degree does for you. So you alright?”
“I guess so all things considered.”
“Good, Caroline keeps looking at her watch so I'd best not keep you.”
“I suppose, love you Gran.” I allowed with the start of a tear in my eye.
“Hey, less of that, you'll have me at it.”
“Sorry.”
“Good job your mascara is waterproof.” She noted drying my eyes with her hanky.
Mascara?
“Drew!” Caro called over.
“Looks like you need to get on.”
“Uh huh.” It was my turn to give the hug.
“Send me a card from Italy, eh?”
“Sure, bye Gran.”
“Bye Drew.”
We separated and I prepared to return to the road.
“Thanks Caroline.” Gran called across the road.
“No problem Josie, I know what it can be like.”
“But you didn't have to stop.”
“Bye Gran!” I called over with a wave.
“Bye Drew, bye Caroline.”
“Bye Josie!”
We got going again and once we'd cleared the town centre Caro came alongside.
“Okay?”
“Uh huh.”
“You miss your Gran, being in Germany?”
“Yeah, we used to talk a lot but it's not so easy what with all the stuff I get roped into at home.”
“Just give us some warning next time you stop eh?”
“Er sorry.”
“Time to do some work then, the others must be at least a mile up the road.”
“Sugar!”
Once we got onto the right road Caro eased the Mofa to the front and I slipped in behind. It's not really allowed but who's to see out here? Caroline's mount whined its way up to fifty kph, which was about as fast as I wanted to be on this B road. Fifteen minutes later we still hadn't caught up to the others.
“Bugger, I thought we'd have caught them by now.”
Me too, they must be trying hard.
“We turn off in the next village, you wait there and I'll chase the others down.”
“Kay.”
That plan was killed when we spotted the BC bus parked at the junction.
“Wondered where you were,” Steve mentioned.
“Thought we'd have caught up by now.” Caro observed easing to a halt.
“They've only just gone through, good job I came along this way eh?”
“Yeah sorry about that, I'll tell you about it later. Come on Drew let's get up to them.”
“Uh huh,” I agreed around a mouthful of H2O.
We caught up to the others about a mile further on; they'd had to stop at the main road.
“What happened to you man?” Josh enquired when I joined the rotation.
“Saw my Gran, Caroline let me have a minute or two.”
“Must've been more like five to take you this long to catch us.”
“We stopped when we saw Steve.” I offered in mitigation.
Our arrival in Middlewich came in short order, which had us on the A54 for a short stretch before we picked up the B road that would deliver us most of the way to Knutsford. Caro had us do some Fartlek exercises on the next few straight, flat kilometres up to the M6 where the terrain changed, the road with it to a twistier and in places narrow route. I don't know which way Steve used but he was waiting for us when we eventually stopped.
“Good session everyone, let's get these bikes stowed, the longer we take here, the less free time you get this afternoon.”
We didn't need a second telling; within ten minutes even the Mofa was stowed. Of course we could have ridden all the way to Droylsden, it's not that much further but the roads across south Manchester are not exactly bike friendly. In the bus navigating past Manchester Airport and around the M60 took about forty minutes.
The room allocation was the same as previously with the exception of Josh who took Reddy's spot. By the time we'd eaten – sandwiches, collected our bags, showered and changed it was heading towards two.
I'd've been just as happy chilling in the common room but Mand was adamant that we, that is the girl's squad plus me, were going into town.
“Josh, come on mate.”
“I've been shopping with Tali, there's no way I want to multiply that experience by five!”
“Come on Drew, we'll miss the fast bus.” Claire chivvied.
In my dreams.
“Be right there.”
I gave Josh a bruising look, well I thought it was, he just grinned. “I'll get you for this.”
“You enjoy it really.”
What's the point in arguing?
The bus was fairly busy but not so much that we couldn't sit together on the top deck – not that urban Manchester is particularly scenic but because the lower deck was full of crinklies. The journey, I'm guessing its about three miles, took about twenty minutes eventually spilling us in the centre just metres from the main stores.
“They've got trams!” Sal exclaimed.
“Strictly speaking it's light rail, Nottingham and Sheffield have got proper trams,” I espoused.
“Croydon's got ‘em too,” Mand added, “not that I've been on ‘em.”
“So which way?” Claire enquired.
“I need some shampoo and stuff,” Laura threw in.
“I think there's a Boots in the Arndale.”
“Lead on,” Mand instructed.
I don't know how I got roped into this excursion, well that's a lie, Mand didn't give me a choice, it's not like there's any shops I want to look in.
“This way.” I sighed.
It wasn't far to the shop, finding the right department was another matter.
“Mand.”
“Wassup?”
I pulled her into the next aisle, “Can you do me a favour?”
“I'm not having your baby.” She stated loudly enough to have a couple of old biddy's tutting at us.
“Mand!” I hissed as I rapidly coloured up.
“Sorry couldn't resist, wotcha want?”
“I um need some pads.”
“I saw that stuff back where we came in.”
“I know.” I allowed.
“So what's the problem?”
“The others? I can hardly say they're for my mum can I?”
“Why would you?”
I thought I was the blonde.
“Think about it, me Drew, them for girls?”
“But you're.”
“Not a girl,” I noted cutting in.
She looked at me oddly for a moment, “Nothing some lippy wouldn't sort out, you're not embarrassed are you?”
I let out a deep sigh.
“The others? Why would I be buying feminine hygiene products?”
“For your mum, ah now I get it.”
At long last.
“You want to say they're for me.”
Talk about hard work!
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 27.05.13
Chapter *15*
Shop ‘til You Drop
It took some effort but I did finally get my intent into Manda's bonce.
“Why didn't you just say?”
Grrr!
“Where've you guys been?” Sal queried when we found them a few minutes later.
“I needed to pick up some supplies.” Mand supplied showing them the box in her basket.
“Good idea, I bet they don't have Boots® in Italy.” Claire opined.
“Laura had a great idea , ” Sal told us.
“It's not that good,” Laura stated, “I thought that it'd be cool if we all did our nails and stuff the same when we race together.”
“We're in,” Manda enthused.
“Cool, we should get supplies while we're here,” Sal suggested.
“I'll just get some shampoo while you're doing that.” I told them.
“'Kay,” Laura allowed.
I made good my escape; there is no way I want to be involved with that enterprise. The shampoo was really just an excuse but it wouldn't hurt to get in some supplies, never know when we'll get the chance to hit a shop while we're in Italy or Switzerland.
Considering their desire to ‘do the shops' the visit to Boots® lasted an extraordinary time, I guess deciding on the exact shade of nail varnish is a big problem for four girls to agree on. Personally I just buy the colours that catch my eye – what am I saying? Look sometimes ‘Gaby' has to do the whole girly bit, it's not like I always wear nail varnish or makeup of any sort – well maybe a bit of lippy and mascara.
Anyway we're getting away from the point, we spent best part of an hour in the chemist so it was knocking on three when we emerged back onto Manchester's main shopping street.
“So where now?” I enquired.
“There a Waterstone's® anywhere?” Laura asked.
“Dunno what it is but when I came to the Con we went in a big book shop round near the town hall.”
“Whatcha want a book shop for?” Sal queried.
“Thought it might be useful to get a Swiss phrase book.”
“Great idea,“ Mand enthused, “we could get Italian and Danish too.”
“Which way Drew?” Claire prompted.
I wasn't entirely certain but I was pretty certain it was ‘downhill' from where we were.
“This way I think.”
By some stroke of luck I managed to take us pretty much directly to the building housing the bookshop cum coffee house.
“Ta da!”
“I'm glad it wasn't any further, my feet are killing,” Claire moaned as we headed inside.
“You put the things on,” Mand pointed out.
“I wasn't expecting to do so much walking.”
“We've hardly gone anywhere , ” I observed.
“Languages or travel?” Sal asked.
“Travel.” Laura stated with some conviction.
“Third floor, we can get the lift.”
“I don't think there'll be a Swiss phrase book.” I mentioned on the way up.
“Course there is, you can get like Welsh and Geordie,” Mand stated.
“Hey we could get one of those so we can understand Josh.” Sal gushed.
“Why won't there be a Swiss book then clever clogs?” Laura posed.
“If you go to say France everyone speaks French right?”
“I guess.”
“Well no one talks Swiss, well maybe a few but it's not called Swiss.”
“So what do they speak?” Mand enquired.
“French, German and Italian.”
“How's that work?“ Claire put in, “no one'd understand anyone else.”
“They only speak one language in each bit.”
“How'd you know all this?”
“Jograffee lessons and I went there on the way to the bike show in Friedrichshafen a couple of years ago*.”
“So what do they speak there?” Sal queried.
“German?” I suggested.
Ding! The lift finally juddered to a halt and we spewed out into the travel department.
“So where's this place we're going to in Italy?” Laura asked unfolding one of those orange Michelin maps.
“Lake Como Caroline said, hang on let me check, I've got the Hotel stuff here somewhere.” I fished in my wallet, “here we go, Hotel Como in some place called Lezzeno.”
“Ooo I hope its near Rome, I've always wanted to go there.” Sal offered wistfully.
Laura and I scanned the map for a couple of minutes before spotting Como.
“There it is.”
“Where?”
“North of Milan? It's almost in Switzerland by the looks of it.” I supplied.
“Let's see.” Claire demanded.
I relinquished my position to her.
“There's that Lezzo place, right next to the lake.” Laura pointed.
“We should get one of these to take.” I suggested.
“Good idea Drew,” Mand agreed.
The combined pile grew to include Michelin sheet 553 that is actually for Switzerland but covers Como, Berlitz Italian and Danish phrase books and one of those Eyewitness tourist books for Switzerland as my prediction about a Swiss phrase book was born out. We each put to them; we'd claim some off the others if they wanted to use them.
“We got time to go to the bike shop?” Claire asked when we finally returned to the er fresh air.
“It's back past Boots®.” I observed.
“We have to go that way for the bus anyway right?” Mand pointed out before Claire could moan about her shoes again.
“What do you need the bike shop for?” Laura asked.
“My mitts are falling apart.”
“Those Specialized ones?” Sal queried.
“Yeah there was like all the gel stuff leaking out this morning.”
“Yeugh!”
It was getting towards four thirty by the time we reached Messr Hall's cycling emporium and entered the goody store.
“Alright girls,” a chap wearing a shop shirt smiled, looking for anything in particular?”
“Gel mitts?” Claire offered.
The chap looked a little surprised at such a specific request from a bunch of teenaged girls – plus me of course.
“Who're they for?”
“Me ! ” Claire replied slightly miffed, “We're off to Italy to race at the weekend.” she emphasised the ‘we' and ‘race' bits which caused the sales guy to wince a little.
“Mountain bikes?”
He really was getting things badly wrong!
“Junior Tour of Switzerland actually.” Sal supplied.
“I thought it was Italy.”
“We've a training camp in Italy first.” Mand put in.
“Excellent, some nice riding down there, gloves are over by the helmets, give us a shout if you need help.”
“Plonker.” Mand suggested when we were out of earshot.
“He's only doing his job.” I pointed out.
“They all do it,” Laura agreed, “and they hardly ever have much women's stuff.”
“Yeah.” Sal agreed.
“Or it's all pink, I mean, do I look like I want a pink helmet with flowers on?” Laura added.
“Never noticed.” I admitted. “I'm gonna look at the bikes.”
I left the girls muttering about flowers and pink to look at the much more interesting bike display. There were certainly some nice machines, stuff from Trek and Specialized rubbing wheels with fancy kit from Bianchi, Pinarello, Colnago and Cannondale.
“They do a women's version of that one.” The shop guy advised, having arrived a couple of bikes away.
“Eh?”
“The Bianchi, they do their Dama with the same kit on.”
“Er right.”
Why's he telling me?
“They're the new eleven speed Power shift levers”
I can see that.
“What do you use?”
“I've got a team Pinarello with Veloce.”
“Team replica?”
“No, I ride for Apollinaris, it's my team bike.”
“Okay.”
That seemed to have stumped him a little.
“So all you girls ride for this Apollinaris set up?”
I'm not a girl! And how can you not have heard of Apollinaris?
“No, only me, the girls are all in different clubs but we're riding for BC at the moment.”
I thought he might be impressed, instead I don't think he knew what BC was. He got a call to the phone which kind of let us both off the hook in regard to continuing the conversation.
* See Book 3 Part 19
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 28.05.13
Chapter *16*
Deep Breath
“Bit full of himself.” Mand stated as we headed towards the bus.
“A right jerk,” I agreed, “he thought I was a girl!”
“As if,” Claire noted. “At least they had some decent gloves.”
“Pity that Telekom jersey was so big,” Laura lamented.
“They're a good laugh.”
“Who?” Sal queried.
“The Telekom lads.”
“You're not gonna tell us you know them,” Claire posed.
“Well Mum knows some of them, we've had dinner together and stuff.”
“You lucky sod,” Sal allowed wistfully.
“It's like having some celeb on the team,” Laura chuckled.
“You'll be telling us next you know Prince William,” Claire added.
I decided not to mention the Munich affair; things could get a little erm, awkward to say the least.
“Don't be daft, where would I meet royalty?”
“I'm sure you'd find a way,” Mand stated.
“And what's that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” She replied with a smirk.
We'd just missed our bus so we had a fifteen-minute wait for the next, which was quite full with commuters and homeward bound shoppers. Our stop arrived sooner than I thought, we nearly missed it in fact but we arrived back at the hostel about quarter to six – well before dinner.
“Ah.”
“Aaargh.”
I hate it when they stick that wooden spoon thing down your gullet, always makes me gag.
“Okay Drew, that looks fine, just need to do the vampire bit and I'm all done with you.”
“Great,” I'm not a fan of having blood drawn either.
I'm not sure whether I mentioned it or not but we get to do a full MOT* today, yeah we did one when we arrived in Manchester the other week but BC are nothing if not thorough. The Doc raided my precious supply of blood and I was done – well for the doctor type stuff at least – we get to do all the fitness type stuff next. I reassembled my clothing and left the good doctor scribbling a note.
‘Bzzzt, Bzzzt, Bzzzt.'
I had a bit of time to kill until my torture session starts so I was sat watching the action on the ‘drome when my phone started chirping.
‘Bzzzt, Bzzzt, Bzzzt.'
I flicked it open and accepted the call, “ H ello Bond.”
“Heya , Drew!”
“Roni?”
“Well duh! Who else would ring on this number?”
“Sorry I didn't look, so um how's it going?”
“Ach so so, there's not much racing and it's not much fun on my own anyhow.”
“Poor Roni.”
“Huh, it's alright for you in your training camp!”
“I thought you guys that made the German squad were going on a camp?”
“It was just a few days not like your six weeks.”
I hadn't really given it much thought; I'd sort of assumed they'd have a similar set up to BC, clearly not.
“So um, why the call? Not that it's not good to hear from you.”
“To the point for a change, well I have just been on the phone with the Federation, I'm on the team for the Switzerland Tour!”
“What about Gret?”
“Dunno, not spoken with anyone else yet, you're the first.”
“We're doing some race down there too, the Hel something Cup?”
“It's the same! Cool, we can get together.”
“We'll be on different teams.” I pointed out.
“We can still talk.”
‘DREW BOND, ROOM B4 , ” the PA boomed.
“I have to go Ron, it's my turn on the torture equipment.”
“Torture equipment?”
“Performance testing, it's all computers an' stuff, look I'll try to call back later okay?”
“Sure, have fun in the dungeon, ciao.”
“Tschuss!”
It's pretty cool that we both get to ride in Switzerland, mind you it'll be pretty weird being on a different team. I stowed my Handy, gathered the rest of my stuff and headed to the torture chamber, I mean room B4.
“Drew Bond?”
“Uh huh,” I agreed.
“Okay I'm Marcus Wilson, my glamorous assistant over there is Pauline Cameron, “the young woman tending to the equipment gave a smile, “we'll be putting you through your paces today. You've got your shoes I see, Look** I hope?”
I nodded in agreement. They get a team in from the local university to carry out these tests so your chances of meeting the same people are fairly small, I don't think it's anything sinister, just the way it is.
“Okay you can change behind the screen.”
I entered the impromptu changing room and started to get ready.
“You done one of these before Drew?” Marcus enquired.
“Ja, im Janvier und letz monat hier testet.”
“Come again?”
Dur! Talk about daft, that's what I get for talking to Ron!
“Er sorry, I was just talking to a friend in Germany, I forgot what language I was using.”
“Wish I could speak another language,” Marcus lamented, “you're pretty good at it.”
“I do live there, you learn pretty quick!”
“So er, have you? Done the test before that is?”
“Oh sorry, yes I came over in January and did it and we went through it a few weeks back.”
“You know the score then, ready when you are.”
This bit was always going to be embarrassing, I returned to the main room in just bib shorts and a sports bra.
Marcus and Pauline didn't bat an eyelid.
“Okay girl, lets get this show on the road,” Pauline grinned.
“Er sure.”
Sometimes it's just easier and less embarrassing to go with the flow, at this stage it's simpler not to try and explain my whole situation.
Not sure what I've told you before about this testing stuff, essentially after calibrating the kit, the victim, I mean testee, gets to take part in a series of exhaustion testing whilst breathing through a controlled supply and wired up to a ton of monitors. Of course you could do ‘just enough' but what would be the point? So you work as hard as you can – end result, you land up absolutely cream crackered and hot and sweaty.
“Great , Drew, let's get that kit off you.” Marcus stated as I did my best to drag oxygen into my lungs.
“Kay.”
“If I didn't know Drew, I'd say the results look like some of the lads we've tested today.” Pauline mentioned as she passed me a towel.
I am a boy!
“Better endurance though,” Marcus observed, “typical female physiology, the lads get by on strength, so whilst your power output isn't as high you can keep the same intensity of effort much longer.”
“Huh ? ”
“So we girls are better than the boys at something eh Drew ? ” Pauline chuckled.
“I guess.” I sort of agreed.
“I'd say you're in the top five percentile,”
Cool.
“Of female cyclists,” Marcus supplied.
Not so cool, well okay if I have to be a girl it's pretty cool but I don't want to be a girl.
“Get yourself changed girl,” Pauline suggested, “I'm sure your coaches will want to discuss this stuff with you.”
“Hmm.”
I really wanted a shower, I hate sweaty boobs, but I've still got the gym tests to get through – at least I don't need to do that in my underwear.
Steve was running the gym sessions, the first time I'd seen either of our coaches since we arrived at the velodrome.
“Okay Drew?”
“Just about, that VO² test doesn't get any easier.”
“That's the point, so you ready to hit the weights?”
“Not really, I hate weights.” I admitted.
“Necessary evil I'm afraid, let's start with some leg curls.”
It wasn't a particularly intensive session; it was all about measuring muscle strength and that endurance thing again. I'll be the first to admit that my upper body strength isn't particularly great, riding a bike is about your legs, isn't it? Well okay you need to have some arm strength but I don't want to end up looking like Popeye.
At least afterwards I got to shower.
“You done too man?” Josh asked after nearly knocking me over.
“Yeah. How'd you get on?”
Because we've each been going round on our own we've hardly had a chance to compare notes.
“Okay I guess like. That breathing thing is like pretty intense eh?”
“Yeah.” I agreed. “Oh yeah, I spoke to Ron earlier.”
“Oh aye?”
“She's racing in Switzerland too.”
“The same race like?”
“Yup, she didn't know about Gret tho.”
“Not gonna be easy is it,” Josh noted.
* Ministry Of Transport road vehicle test – often hijacked to describe any thorough check of man, equipment or system.
** Look – perhaps the leading manufacturer of performance pedals as well as other lumps of aerodynamic carbon bike stuff.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 31.05.13
Chapter *17*
Tripping
Whilst everyone had been through the day's testing, not everyone would be going to Italy so Friday morning saw the departure of David, John and Steve leaving just nine of us for the day's activities, a two hour bash around the Pennine foothills. I felt bad for David and Steve, they've been giving their all but I guess we've been building towards this point since we arrived.
The weather was muggy; a few spots of liquid sunshine mid ride did little to cool us off leaving us hot, sweaty and irritable. Once back in Droylsden we showered and fed before everyone convened in the ‘lecture' room.
“Settle down please, we've a busy afternoon.” Steve advised.
Even a handful of teens can make a racket; a double handful of excited youth took a moment or two to come to some sort of order.
“Thank you. So, we are off to Italy in the morning,”
“Yay!” Jamie cheered.
“Indeed Mr Wilson. The bad news is that we don't have the budget to fly all us lot and the kit to Italy,”
A round of groans filled Steve's pause.
“But we do all get to do a road trip. We know it's a long drive, I'm not looking forward to it but it's the only way we could do the training camp. The good news is that we do get a support team for the trip, Darren will be our mechanic with assistance from Mike, we'll have Jemma as soigneur, Chris will be coming along as director and of course Caroline and myself.
Darren and Mike will be here in about an hour to load up the bikes and your kit, I want everyone's bags in reception by three. You'll need an overnight bag, I'm not sure exactly where we'll be overnighting, Chris has organised that, we'll not be unloading your cases.”
“Passports?” Caroline mentioned.
“Yes indeed, passports to Caroline after this meeting please, we've had issues with ‘lost' paperwork more than once in the past.”
Not the only ones!
“We'll be eating early this evening,” Caro put in, “we're leaving at six in the morning so it's an early night please.”
“Six?”
“Yes Drew, six.” She confirmed, “Breakfast is at five thirty then we are straight off, any problems?”
“Er no, just checking.” I allowed.
“Right then, let's get started people,” Steve enthused.
“I thought we'd be flying.” Claire complained as we headed up stairs.
“Yeah I was hoping to get some air miles like,” Josh added.
“Could be worse,” I observed.
“How's that?” Darren enquired.
“We could be going to America, they'd have us rowing there!”
“Aye yer could be right Drew.” Jamie agreed .
I should be good at this packing lark by now but I guess you know me by now. I had my overnight bag packed and unpacked three times before I was satisfied I had everything I'll need. It's pretty easy to get everything else into my case afterwards, worst-case scenario I live without fresh socks or whatever until we get to Italy. I dragged my case down to reception, a bit late but I wasn't last, that honour fell to Sal.
Caroline was in charge of labelling and documentation, we found her behind a makeshift desk.
“Okay you two, passports?”
I gave her my passport and German ID card, which in theory I can use instead of a passport in Europe.
“Thank you, right, one label on your case and the second one is for your overnight bag.”
I tied the big yellow tag to my case's handle and slipped the other in my short's pocket.
“Now that's done I can sort myself out,” Caro allowed.
“What do we do now?” Sal enquired.
“The others are outside I think, dinner's at six but otherwise apart from not leaving the hostel, times yours till then.”
“Neat!” Sal grinned.
“Oh Drew a minute?” Caro requested before I could escape.
“Sure, what's up?”
“We've got you sharing with Josh for this trip, you okay with that?”
“As long as he is.”
“He says so but if you have any issues let me know and we'll sort something out. I'm sorry you couldn't have your own room but the budget is tight enough for this trip as it is.”
“It's alright, I just hope he doesn't snore.”
“Get on with you!”
The real reason for the overnight bags became clear next morning, the truck with all the gear and our bags had actually set off the previous evening – we'll meet them at the hotel in Italy.
“Bags the corner seat,” I stated, clambering bleary eyed into the BC minibus after a breakfast consisting of a cup of coffee – it's too early to eat!
“I wouldna fit anyhow,” Jamie concluded .
“Yes!”
Why that seat you may ask? Well it's a single, score one and as no one else has to go past getting on or off I can make a sort of nest to sleep through the journey, score two.
It looked like another Mancunian summer day on the cards, grey sky threatening rain with a few blue tears to allow a bit of sunshine to tempt you to go umbrella-less. With fewer bodies on the bus things were less cramped, at least for now, we are short Chris T, this Jemma woman and Mark; I'm guessing we pick them up en route.
“Everyone ready?” Steve called back.
“Yes!” we enthused, as much as you can when you're half asleep at silly o'clock in the morning.
“Let's roll then.”
Within thirty minutes we were clear of Manchester and trundling down the M6. By mutual consent the conversation was little, sleep still beckoning. For those not up on UK geography we have to go down the west side of the Pennines before heading south east past Birmingham, around London then through Kent to Dover. It's not an exactly scenic ride and the hold ups around the Capital even make the German news.
I snoozed on and off for the next hour or so down to Birmingham, finally giving up on the sleep when we unexpectedly left the M6 and followed the signs for the NEC*. A couple of miles and several roundabouts later we arrived at our destination which turned out to be Birmingham International airport.
“Won't be long.” Caro told us as she jumped out.
“What we doing here Steve, we flying after all?” Laura asked.
“‘Fraid not, just collecting some passengers, great, here they come.”
Steve got out himself and came around to the back of the bus. We all of course had noses pressed to the windows to spot the extra passengers.
It didn't take much detective work to identify the individual pulling a bike box and case or his ‘minder'.
“Morning everyone,” Director Toynbee greeted us.
“Hi,” Mark allowed.
After a bit of moving, huffing and grunting , the newcomer's kit was stowed, seating was sorted and we were on our way again. Instead of retracing to the M6 we joined the M42 direction south.
“You fly from home man?” Josh asked Mr Cavendish.
“Yeah first flight out of Douglas.” He confirmed.
“You coulda flown all the way,” Mand suggested.
“I wish, I've got sponsorship from Manx Air but they only fly to Birmingham, Belfast and Glasgow.”
“Bummer.” Darren noted.
“Tell me about it , ” Mark agreed.
We soon joined the M40 towards London, the time already after eight.
“Toilet stop in ten.” Caroline announced.
“Great, I shouldn't've had that fruit juice.” Sal shared.
“TMI.” Geth mentioned.
Ten minutes were closer to fifteen by the time we were stopped in Banbury services.
“We'll be having a longer stop later so if we can be back in twenty minutes.” Steve instructed.
There was a bit of muttering but we all piled out and headed for the facilities, running the gauntlet of Costa, Smiths and BK on the way. I've made it a rule, I think I mentioned before, to utilise any opportunity to empty my bladder on road trips but why do they make you walkthrough the whole complex before you get there! I hadn't really wanted to go when we stopped but when I finally got my knickers down and sat well - aah!
“Who on earth wants an electric drill at motorway services?” Mand enquired while we waited for the others to appear.
“Motorway DIY man?” I suggested, I must admit admit to asking the same question myself when I first saw the stack outside Smith's on the way in.
Any further exploration of the question was annulled by the arrival of Sal, Laura and Claire.
“I'll get some playing cards, they always have them in these places.” Laura mentioned heading into the shop.
“Come on girls, you can shop later,” Chris chivvied.
We sort of did a slow meander towards the bus; Laura caught us as we arrived. Once loaded it was back to the motorway to join the increasing London bound traffic. It seems to be a girl thing, the Angels do it too, that is break out the playing cards on longer journeys.
I'm useless at the best of times, Con on the other hand is a right card shark, so I tend to opt out. There would be no such escape this morning; the card school would include me whether I wanted to or not.
“Twist.”
Hmm, thirteen. Should I stick on that? Yeah.
“Stick.”
“Call!” Mand stated.
So of course if I'd taken the next card I'd've scored twenty-one but no I lost out to everyone else on the hand. Look I told you I'm crap at it.
The lads were of course otherwise engaged, Josh was mouthing his way through the Italian phrase book we got the other day, Jamie and Mark were talking cars, Darren was nodding along to something on his headphones, Geth was gently snoring into the side window.
We lost traffic at the Oxford turn but gained more at each successive junction all the way to the M25 where we turned south towards Heathrow. The traffic was at least moving even if all the lanes were full of traffic. The stream of aircraft taking off announced the airport then we were past and Gatwick replaced Heathrow on the road signs. Heavy spots of rain turned the already grey day into wet and horrible, I hope it dries up, I hate driving in rain.
*National Exhibition Centre
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 02.06.13
Chapter *18*
Deep Breath
“Croydon.” I noted as we approached the next in a seemingly endless stream of junctions.
“Half an hour to home,” Manda sighed.
I know how she feels, I've been away from home for a month, it'll be nearly six weeks by the time I return to Dernau. Last time I was away for this long it was at least with all my mates when we went to Grottoes. This time, well it's not that I haven't made friends, I have, but it's not the same as doing stuff with your homies.
“We'll be stopping for lunch in a few minutes.” Caro advised.
Right on cue my stomach gave a very audible rumble; yeah I'm hungry now after pretty much skipping brekkie. Of course it was another motorway service area, Clacket Lane, where we'd be eating and we disembarked as the clock made twelve.
With a baker's dozen we make a sizeable party but our leaders had a plan, which amounted to getting us all seated roughly together in the restaurant and Chris and Caro ordering for everyone.
“How do we sort out paying?” Geth enquired of Steve.
“You're on team duty now, food and board are on us.”
“Phew, I'm not exactly flush.” Darren admitted.
“I guess we 'll need to get some Euros on the ferry though,” Sal suggested.
“You shouldn't really need to, you get a daily allowance to cover incidentals so unless you're planning to buy out the local shops you shouldn't need much. If you are going to change some, do it here, it's a better rate than on the boat these days.”
I thought about the money in my wallet, it hadn't really gone down significantly since I left Warsop, most of my expenditure has been on snacks and drinks. Hiding behind the assorted UK notes I knew there was about €150, my emergency stash, nah I don't think I need to change any of my remaining pounds.
I hadn't really given funding much of a thought to be honest, when we were living in Warsop Mum and Dad paid for all that stuff – hence the old camper. In Dernau, whilst I don't have to worry I know Dad is always trying to make the team's money go as far as possible. Mum often goes on about the farcical funding in the past, it seems that there is a real desire to do things more professionally by the Manchester management.
And so we dined, if not gourmet it was at least better than burger and chips.
“Can I have your attention everyone?” Director Toynbee instructed.
We came to order, I think everyone realised that things have changed from the relaxed atmosphere of the training camp to a more serious arrangement.
“Thank you, I won't be long, we need to be underway as soon as possible but it will be useful for you to know what's happening. We've got just over an hour down to Dover where we'll pick up Jemma before taking the two thirty ferry to Calais. Once there we'll be motoring hard to our overnight stop on the Rhine, it'll be late when we get there so it'll be eat and bed.
We wont be stopping other than for fuel and toilets so I would suggest if you want munchies for the drive you get them here or on the boat. Caroline has got dinner booked for tonight and she'll give you your room allocations on the boat.
Which brings me to another point; you are representing your country on this trip so I want to see BC trackies worn on the ferry and when we go to eat. You are ‘on duty' whenever you are not asleep at night, that doesn't mean you can't have fun, you are not overpaid footballers or cricketers, our standards of behaviour are higher.
Anything else Steve? Caroline?”
“Just a footnote,” Caro started, “you'll need your passports at Dover for immigration, I'll pass them out when we arrive and collect them afterwards.”
The information was important but not earth shattering, the instructions regarding ‘uniform' – well try keeping us out of them!
We were on the road and heading east within fifteen minutes and off the M25 and coast bound on the M26 ten minutes later. Dover fifty miles. The last time I used the ferry was when we moved to Germany last year – that was some mammoth trip!
“You playing Drew?” Claire demanded.
“I think I'll sit it out for now.”
“Me too,“ Mand stated, “I need to ring Mum and stuff.”
“It's no fun with three.” Claire pouted.
“I ought to do the same really,” Laura added.
“Hmmph!” little miss card shark complained.
‘Let's see, Dad.' I hit the select button and started composing the text, okay, ‘hi, on wy 2 dvr. Stop Rhein 2nite. Phone ltr, D' yep that should do, I hit send and closed the cover. A couple of minutes later my Handy chirped as it received a reply, ‘have a gud jurny, DAD.' He's not exactly up with text speak but even so that was quite short.
A look out of the window revealed that the rain had stopped even if the roads were still wet; there was even a hint of sunshine escaping the rents in the greyness still covering the view upwards. Laura and Manda were both jabbering on their phones, it sounded like Jamie was too by the stop start conversation drifting back down the bus.
Maidstone, forty miles to Dover, couple of hours by bike and I suppose about forty minutes in the bus. By my reckoning we'll be in Dover for two, should be plenty of time for the two thirty sailing. Four o'clock in Calais, no it'll be five with the hour so we should get to the hotel about ten – sheesh!
In no time we covered the distance to Ashford then we were passing the Chunnel terminal at Folkestone. Less than ten miles to Dover and it's quarter to two – easy peasy. Well it was until we reached Dover where we got caught in traffic; nevertheless we pulled into the bus pickup area just about two.
Jemma – well I presume that was whom it was — dragged her case over and while Steve and Chris organised stowage behind me, Caro passed out the erm passports.
“Hi guys!” Jemma greeted us as she squeezed in next to Caroline.
She looked vaguely familiar for some reason. She was barely sat before Steve headed us into the port complex to try to catch our boat. One checkpoint and then we headed for a grey shed, arriving as a huge touring coach pulled through. We didn't do this with the car last year.
“Okay everyone, you need to go through the hall for passport control, straight back on the bus when you're through,” Steve instructed.
There was a bit of a scramble to get off but we were soon waiting for the apparently French passport checkers to do their stuff. Hmm, I wonder, my German ID card, wonder if it works like they reckon? I slipped my passport into my pocket leaving just my plastic card in my hand.
“Come.” The surly official ordered and we started to move through.
“Next.”
I strode up to the counter and presented my card. He examined the card and checked the picture.
“Sprechen sie Deutsche?”
“Ja.”
“Mit dieser Britisher fahrt?”
“Uh huh, zu Italia vor fahr Radrennen.”
“Gut fahre fraulein.”
“Danke.” I replied taking my card back.
“What was all that about?” Mand enquired as we settled back into our seats.
“What?”
“You know, all that foreign stuff you were talking.”
“Oh he was just asking some stuff.”
“Never said anything to me.”
“Nor me like.” Josh put in overhearing our conversation. “And like why were youse chatting in German man?”
“I um used my German ID card instead of my passport.”
“What'd you do that for man?”
“To see if it worked.”
“Let's see?” Mand challenged.
I passed her the card; “If you are resident for more than six months you have to get one.”
“The government want to have ‘em here, want to charge us like a hundred quid too.”
“Sounds like a money making scheme to me, we pay like twenty five euros.”
“And you can use it instead of a passport?”
“Only in Europe, you still need a passport to go further.”
“What's the D for?” Claire enquired.
Sugar, “Its like short for Deutschesland.”
The bus door slammed shut signalling our departure from the control and entry into France, well it's still England of course but France as far as immigration controls are concerned – it works in reverse coming back. We entered a wacky races course of white lines, concrete barriers and six lane straights before reaching the check in booths. It was just after twenty past when the barrier went up and Steve sped us to the loading lanes, line 76, behind the tour coach we followed through the control.
Caro collected the passports again and before she was back in her seat we were moving towards our Channel crossing transport.
“So what're we gonna do?” Sal enquired.
“I'm gonna get some snap.”
“We only had dinner a couple of hours ago.” Laura observed.
“I can't see us eating until at least ten tonight.” I noted.
“How come? It can't take that long.” Claire mentioned.
“Well it has to be like four hundred kilometres so that's four hours without stops.”
“That doesn't make ten o'clock, it's not even three yet,” Mand pointed out.
“Hour on the boat.”
“That's only eight o'clock,” Claire calculated .
“Ah but the final piece is the time difference, clocks go forward an hour so we land about five CET, four hours plus driving, earliest'll be nine thirty.” I concluded my lecture.
“Where's that restaurant?” Mand giggled.
Cross Channel ferry food is neither great quality nor good value, the roast chicken dinner looked about the best option even if its eight pounds price tag meant it was twice the price you'd pay at the Hygenic in Church Warsop! Surprisingly I didn't struggle to eat it, although I was pretty stuffed by the time I was done. The others stuck to simpler fare, chips, soup or salad – not that their bills were much smaller.
“I wondered where you lot had got to.” Caro offered as she took a seat on the table opposite the one we were squeezed around.
“Drew reckons we won't get to eat until ten tonight.” Mand declared.
“Hopefully a little earlier but it will be late,” she confirmed. “ Let's get these rooms sorted out, Claire, you're with Sally, Amanda, you and Laura get the other girl's room. Drew, you've got a single tonight.”
“I thought I was sharing with Josh?”
“This is only for tonight, it's just how the rooms fell, Josh is in with Mark and Jamie.”
That settled she departed to return to our minders wherever they were hiding.
The rest of the crossing was uneventful, a walk around the decks, check out the baubles in the duty free; stand outside to watch the approach of the French coast – normal stuff on a ferry crossing. Then we were docked, disembarked and out of the French ferry terminal, driving on the right side of the road and heading north east towards Dunkerque. Yes I know it seems strange given our destination but apparently it's the quickest route.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 03.06.13
Chapter *19*
Where?
By the time we reached the Dunkerque bypass the novelty of being on the ‘wrong' side of the road was past and things on board the minibus returned to the usual travel occupations. Personally I was feeling a bit dozy; we' d been on the go for about twelve hours after all.
“I'm gonna catch forty winks.”
“Lightweight,” Mand teased .
“Whatever.”
I slipped my shoes off and made myself comfortable.
When I returned to consciousness we were somewhere around Brussels and the bus was much quieter. There was some conversation up at the front, the faint sounds of someone playing a shoot ‘em up and the rustle of a book being read. I checked the time, a bit after seven, the sun, for this side of the Channel was almost cloud free, angled through the left hand windows lighting the dust motes floating about in the bus.
The girls were well out of it so I decided to take advantage and stretch out a bit; hmm-smelly socks by Claire's head are maybe not the best idea. Socks removed I got myself comfortable again and soon drifted off once again.
The next time I woke it was as we pulled into a service area, the deceleration and change of engine tone disturbing my slumber.
"Toilets!" Chris announced.
Good idea. I had a good stretch to remove the kinks in my neck, it was only when the door was opened that the gust of fresher air alerted me to my still naked tootsies. Hmm, socks - I thought I'd stuffed them in my trainers but they were missing now.
"Anyone seen my socks?"
"Wondered what the smell was." Laura piped up.
"Funny ha ha, can you look under your seats?"
The speed at which socks were found was a bit suspect.
"Here you go." Claire dangled said foot coverings in my direction.
I needed to adjust my position to get my feet in the aisle to pull them on.
"What the?"
"Something the matter?" Mand was all innocence.
"My nails!"
"What about them Drewbie." Sal almost giggled.
"Painted." I spluttered.
"Hmm, nice colour, where'd you get it?" Laura queried.
"Guys!"
"It was too tempting, 'specially when I woke up with your foot in my face," Claire allowed.
"Er soz about that."
"You lot wanting the facilities?" Jemma asked, breaking into our 'conversation'.
"Yeah, just sorting out shoes," Mand replied.
There was hardly anything I could do about the situation right now so I pulled the socks on and shoved my feet in my trainers.
"Nice shoes man." Josh observed when I wandered out of the building a few minutes later.
"Eh?" I allowed before looking at my feet. "Those flippin' girls!"
To be certain I had shoes and socks on, just not my shoes and socks! I recognized the footwear as being Laura's white and pink Skechers and I'm betting the lace trimmed socks were from Manda. This means war!
"Ah think they suit you." Josh went on.
"Gaby may be but she's not here! Just wait until I get hold of Mand, I bet she's behind this."
I scrambled back into the bus; I guess everyone had spotted my footwear by the grins and diverted looks as I made my way to the back.
"Why you..."
My tirade was cut off by Steve, " Keep it down back there, you can talk when we arrive, it's only about an hour away."
"I'll get you!" I mouthed at Mand as I passed.
The fuel stop had been near Maastricht in Holland, we'd made good time it was only eight thirty so an hour from here – we'll probably be not far from home. Wonder what the gang are up to, Dad'll be eating dinner, I think Mum's away still. I know, I'll text him. ‘at Aachen, b at hotel 1std. D' , send.
Meanwhile at the front of the bus Caroline was acting as navigator.
“Wish we had a satnav.”
“We've got one, it's called Caroline,” Steve stated.
“Funny.”
“So which way at this intersection?”
“Let's see, Aalen - okay, A4 Cologne.”
“We go through Cologne?” Chris enquired.
“No we turn before that, A61 direction Frankfurt, bout forty kilometres.”
“Funny sort of name.” Sal opined as we passed the Aalen Ost turn off.
“I won a crit there early season*, right pile up.”
“Bit more exotic than Cosford airfield on your results sheet,” Laura observed.
“Let's see, Xanten, Stuttgart, Bremen, Hamburg, Trier, Olpe.” I bragged.
“Leave some for other people,” Mand chuckled.
“You've won seven races this year?” Claire enquired.
“Erm twelve no thirteen I think, I forgot about Neuweid. Oh and me an' Ron won a two up as well.”
“Shit.” Gethin blurted having overheard.
“You saw some of Dad's video.” I reminded them.
“Didn't realise they were all this season,” Sal noted.
“Yeah, well he didn't get the camera until January.”
“Fourteen wins?” Geth repeated.
“He is the German champion like,” Josh pointed out.
“Who won fourteen?” Mark asked as the conversation spread up the bus.
“Drew.” Geth advised him.
“Impressive; any sprints, all of mine are sprints.” He was obviously trying to bolster his own standing in light of the release of my win stats.
Attention switched back to me.
“Six full on and a couple of one on ones,” I tried to sound casual .
“I've been in a few o' them, bloody hairy like!” Josh added.
“We saw the vid of that one Drew crashed in**.” Mand mentioned.
“Forced off.” Josh stated with some venom, “Hans bloody Braubecker.”
“Josh was second.” I told our audience.
“Braubecker? Big kid, short blond hair?” Cav enquired.
“Yeah, you ridden against him?”
“If it's the same one, he had me in the barriers last year in Strasbourg.”
By now we were on a very familiar bit of autobahn.
“Hey, if you take the next turn off here you end up at my school.”
“You live near here? I thought you lived by the Rhine,” Mand stated.
“It's not far away, I live in the Ahrtal. Wonder where we're staying.”
“Next junction Steve, it should be signposted Bad Neuenahr.” Caro read from her instructions.
“It's just up ahead, looks like we're a bit earlier than we thought.”
“I am not sorry about that.” Jemma allowed with a stretch.
“You missed half the drive,” Caro observed.
“Looks like we're staying at yours,” Laura suggested when Steve turned the bus off of the southbound motorway onto the Ahrtal link road.
This is just too weird for words; I mean of all the places they could've picked to stop we end up less than ten K from my home! It got even freakier when we turned towards Dernau at the bottom of the motorway, I was prevented from a major freak out when we took the Silverberg exit which deposited us outside Silverberg Gymnasium, the last place I expected.
“Looks a bit big for a keep fit place.” Sal suggested.
“Keep fit? Oh gymnasium, no it's a sort of school, er mine actually,” I admitted. Now I really am confused.
A car tooted behind us before passing and pulling in in front of where Steve had stopped in the bus bay. A car with bike racks on the roof and a very familiar cream and blue paint job, what the hell is going on? I couldn't really see much from the back; Caro got down and went, I presume to talk to the car's occupants.
When the side door opened a minute later a very familiar head poked into the gap.
“Hi everyone, wotcha kiddo!”
“Dad! What are you doing here?”
“Well that's nice I must say. Hi Josh.”
“Evening Mr Bond.”
“I know you're all tired,” Caro addressed everyone, “Mr Bond has arranged tonight's accommodation for us, to save time we'll eat first, the restaurant is expecting us. Drew, you want to ride with your dad?”
“Not many!” I agreed already halfway to the door.
“How come they asked you to do stuff?” I enquired sliding into the interior of the C Klasse estate Dad was driving.
“Caro asked, what do you reckon to the wheels?”
“Bit flash.”
“I got a deal from the dealer, George came up with some funds for the racks.”
“I still miss the Saab.”
“Well it wasn't the best way to change a car.”
By now we were heading into Ahrweiler centre, I had a feeling I knew where we were headed, Der Mühle just off the square behind the Rathaus. My guess was confirmed when we pulled into the small car parking area behind the restaurant in question.
“Thought you were being 100% Drew at BC?” Dad queried as we waited for the rest to get out of the bus.
“Sugar, I never got my stuff back!”
“Should I ask?”
“The girls decided to have some fun in Belgium.”
“Which involved you wearing girl's shoes?”
“Something like that,” I conceded.
* Chapter 7.19
** Chapter 8.30
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 07.06.13
Chapter *20*
My Own Bed
Der Mühle is a typical German restaurant cum pub, something which I no longer think about but clearly the majority of my companions were a bit uneasy about.
“Not been here for a while ”I observed as I headed inside.
“Drew!” Claire hissed, “It's a pub.”
“Yeah?”
“We're under age?”
“Only if you've come to drink, hmm wonder what we're eating?”
“Ah die Radrennen! Please this way.” Our host greeted us as we entered the main room.
We followed him to where several tables had been pushed together and decorated with ‘Reserviert' cards.
“Danke,” I responded .
“Sprechen sie Deutsche?”
“Ja, Ich von Dernau kommt, meine freund haben keine Deutsche.”
“Ah, du kannst interpretieren bitte?”
“Ja.”
“Super, danke fraulein.” He grinned before departing.
Whilst I'd been chatting to mine host everyone else had found a seat.
“Here man.” Josh mentioned pointing to the vacant seat beside him.
“Drew's dad has arranged for us to have a light meal here before we move to our accommodation,” Chris advised. ”I'm informed the food will be along shortly so whilst we're all together, I'll bring everyone up to speed. We weren't certain until we got here but Mr Bond will be joining us in Italy, apparently between us and the German Federation all his riders have been stolen so he's at a loose end.”
I gave out a girly squeal of delight.
“He'll be helping out with the driving and bikes as well as providing a bit of a translation service for us. I hope you'll welcome him on board and not give him too much grief.”
I could see a couple of waitresses er waiting to get our drinks orders which reminded me how thirsty I was. Then I recognised one of them, not only was she in my class, Christina's parents own Der Mühle ! Oh sugar, she's coming to my end of the table too.
“For to drink please?”
Yeah, she's not exactly the top of the class in Herr Viessner's English class. The others got the drift though and gave Christina their orders.
“Und sie?”
“Radler bitte.”
“Gabs?” bum, she's recognised me.
“Er hi Chris.”
She replied in German, which was lucky really, “I thought you were away for the summer?”
“I was, am – we're on our way to Italy.”
“Your Radrennen team?” she motioned to the rest of the party.
“Yeah.”
“You missed a great party at Mart's last week.”
“I heard, Anna texted.”
“When are you home? Pia said you were starting cheerleading classes.”
Don't remind me. “I'll be away until school starts.”
“Pity, we've a swim party next week, everyone pretty much is going including your Max.”
I shrugged; any denial or encouragement would only fan the flames of rumour.
“I better get this order in,” she decided; “catch you later.”
“Er yeah.”
“What was that all about?” Geth enquired after Chris departed.
“She's in my class at the Gymnasium.” I told them.
“So how comes she works here?” Sal asked.
“Her parents own this place.”
“It's a bit rough making your kids work though,” Claire suggested.
Is it? I hadn't really given it much thought; it's the norm around here after all.
“Lots of kids work here, Max works at his Dad's restaurant, Pia at the her family's vineyard and Connie's parents have a bakery, I help out there sometimes.”
“I thought it was only in places like India where they have child labour,” Laura noted.
“It's hardly the same,” I suggested.
Chris came back with the first load of drinks but there was no further chance of continuing our conversation – luckily.
“What's that?” Mand demanded as I took a long pull on my Radler.
“Radler, bit like shandy I guess.”
“You coulda said,” Jamie moaned, “I wouldna minded a jar o' that.”
“Soz, never thought, it's just what I usually have when we go out to eat.”
“It really is a different life here,“ Claire observed, “I never really thought past the language thing; I sort of thought it would be the same as back home.”
“It's not that different,” I claimed.
“Oh come on Drew, it's a lot different,” Josh argued .
Okay, I suppose some stuff is, but not everything.
To keep things simple our meal was one option or lump it – a slab of ‘rost beef' with boiled taters, erbsen und karotten. Not exactly your Sunday roast but I've gotten used to getting everything in some sort of sauce rather than with gravy, some of my team mates were clearly not so sure about what was on the plate.
“I thought you had sausages all the time over here.” Darren offered, poking his meat dubiously.
“Only for snacks really, thought we might get schnitzel though.”
“Glad it's not,” Josh commented, “I'm not a fan of breadcrumbs.”
Given I've seen him eat two plate size schnitzel in one sitting I didn't believe that for a second.
After the food most of us had coffee before it was time to head towards our accommodation. I managed to miss Christina somehow, but that was probably a blessing.
Most of our busload was to be billeted at the Ibis as I'd guessed; Dad led the way through the back streets of Bad Neuenahr and spun the Merc around.
“Okay everyone fetch your bags,” Chris instructed, “Amanda, you'll be staying with the Bond's tonight, sorry, bit of a booking issue, so we'll see you in the morning.”
Odd, however she wasn't the only one not staying at the Ibis, Jemma and Caro joined Mand at our new car.
“Chuck your bags in the boot girls.” Dad invited .
“Thanks for sorting this Dave,” Caro replied.
“No problem, none of the girls are in town so it's empty anyhow.”
With a toot we left the Ibis car park and headed back into town. It really wasn't far to the Apollinaris flat that Caro and Jemma were using for the night, Dad took them up when we got there leaving Mand and me in the car.
“Nice car.”
“Yeah, Dad just got it, our old car was nicked when we went to see the Tour.”
“Bit weird that the hotel hadn't got enough rooms,” she observed .
“I guess.”
“You didn't tell us everything that Christina girl said at the restaurant did you?”
“Course, why'd you say that?”
“She called you Gabs, I might not know any German but I recognise names, they all know you as Gaby here don't they?”
“A, erm…”
“I thought so, I knew you hadn't told me everything.”
I sighed, “Guilty as charged, I never wanted it this way, I started at school as Drew but somehow some of the other kids found out about Gaby and within days even the teachers were referring to me as Gaby and treating me as if I was a girl. The whole Weinkönigin thing sorta put the kybosh on getting it sorted out quickly, you sort of know the rest.”
Further conversation was cut short by the return of Bond senior.
“Okay kids? Let's get you to your beds.”
It's not far from Ahrweiler up to Dernau, ten minutes in a car at this time of night even with the bends up to Marienthal. Dad took the short way through the town past Thesing's – I found myself looking to see if Con was about, bit daft at gone eleven at night, then the short distance out to Schloss Bond where the Mercedes was stopped on the drive.
“Come on you two. Amanda, the guest room is a bit of a mess so I've put you in Juliette's room, she's staying with a friend while I'm away.”
“Er thanks.”
“G-rew.”
“She knows Dad.” I explained cutting him off.
“Your Gran hinted. Everything?”
“Pretty much.”
“I won't tell anyone Mr Bond,” Mand promised .
“If Gabs trusts you, I'll take her lead.”
“Drew remember Dad, at least until we get back from Switzerland.”
“Okay kiddo, you can show Amanda where everything is, we're meeting up with the bus about eight thirty so up at seven?”
“A lie in!”
“Just don't get used to it, “Dad chuckled, “night girls.”
“Night Dad.”
“Goodnight Mr Bond.”
I led the way up the main staircase.
“Come on Mand, don't get freaked by the dark ones bedroom.” I warned.
“Freaked?”
I clomped up to the first floor, “Yeah she's an only slightly reformed Goth.”
“Kay.”
“Here you go, “I swung the door open and hit the light switch, “bed's made, toilets the door next to the stairs, bathroom next to it.”
“Thanks.”
“No biggy, see you in the morning, nite.”
“Night Gab.”
Once up in my eyrie I kicked off my ‘borrowed' footwear and fell onto my bed, yeah for the first time in weeks I get to sleep in my own bed.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 08.06.13
Chapter *21*
Autobahn
So of course sleep was the last thing my head wanted to do. Instead my thoughts raced about, jumping from my friends to racing to me and anywhere in between. I had to use the facilities, about two o'clock I think and it was only when I returned to my bed from that that I finally hit slumberland.
“Come on, Gaby, up and at ‘em!” Dad yelled up the stairs to the attic.
“Hmm, coming.” I mumbled without opening my eyes.
What's all the fuss for? I don't remember the bed being this comfy, they must've changed their laundry, the bedclothes smell different, fresher. I cracked an eye to look at my clock, eh? A wall? This isn't the hostel, hang on…
“If I have to come up there…” Dad threatened.
Dad, bed, Dad – shitza, I'm at home in Dernau!
“I'm coming,” I called down, much more awake than a few moments before.
“Well make it snappy or you won't get breakfast,” Pater advised.
I hadn't got time to lose the nail paint on my toes but at least I had my own socks and shoes on when I reached the kitchen.
“Er morning.”
“Finally.” Dad sighed.
“Hi erm, Gaby.” Mand greeted me.
“Thought we were having breakfast?” I observed scanning the kitchen for signs of frühstuck.
“We are, just not here. Got everything?”
I patted myself down, “Handy, wallet, head, legs, yup seems like it.”
Mand giggled.
“What about you, Amanda?”
“All here, Mr Bond,” she waved her bag.
“Let's go then.”
We went out through the garage, the alarm is easier to set from there, and found seats in the Mercedes. Dad stowed our bags before locking up Chez Bond and climbing in himself.
“Where we having frühstuck?”
“At the bakery.”
I checked my watch, don't ask me why, of course it's open, I sometimes do the early shift from silly o'clock, seven thirty is even after the first rush.
Mand was unusually quiet, I realised why when she did speak.
“If I didn't know, I'd think you were German.”
“Eh?”
“You speak it so easily.”
“When?”
“Just now, geez you don't even know you're doing it, when I did French at school I had to really think about everything, it was hardly speaking the language, just repeating phrases.”
“You kind of have to learn quickly when you live here, they think I'm good at languages coz I get good grades in English!”
“I should hope so.” Dad opined as we drew to a halt outside Thesing's.
“Go get a table, Gab.” Dad instructed once we were inside.
“Sure, hi Herr Thesing!”
“Well hello, stranger, fancy doing a couple of shifts?”
“Sorry we're off to Italy today.” I replied as I steered Manda to the Angel's regular table in the corner.
“It was worth a try, morning Dave.”
“Morning Tomas, whilst I remember I need to cancel the bread order until the thirtieth.”
“Holiday, eh?”
“Sort of, a riding camp for the girls, at least it's a change from the usual four walls.”
“Ja, so what'll it be?”
Being a sometime employee of the bakery I found myself refilling our coffee cups at the Gaggia when a squeal rent the air.
“Gabeee!” I had to put the coffee pot down as she grabbed me in a bear hug. “You never said you were coming.”
“I didn't know myself Con, it's only like a pit stop, we're off to Italy once we've had frühstuck. Make yourself useful, bring the other cup over, you can meet Mand.”
“Sure.”
“Tag, Herr Bond.” Miss Thesing greeted Dad as she slid in beside me.
“Morning, Connie.”
“Mand, this is Connie, I think I told you about her when we were at Gran's.”
“Um hello.”
“She hasn't any German?” Con enquired.
“Not a word.”
“Good morning.” Con got out in her best English. “The frühstuck, it is good ja?”
“Froostuk oh breakfast, yes, excellent thank you.”
Dad had ordered the big breakfast for all of us – no not the fried gut buster that would be supplied in the UK but a mixed plate of rolls, croissants, cheese, meat, tomato, jam and coffee.
“When are you back home, Gab?”
“End of the month.”
“You've missed some great parties.”
“So Christina told me.”
“You've seen Chris?”
“We had dinner at her rents place last night.”
“Der Mühle?”
“Yep.”
“So the racing is good, yes?”
“Pretty cool, did I tell you that I go to the Weltmeisterschaft in Denmark next month?”
“Several times.” She grinned, “So you race in Italy?”
“Just training, we're racing in Switzerland after then I come home for the new term.”
“Don't remind me. How is Bernie?”
“Mother and daughter doing well last time we spoke.”
“Good, it was amazing you were there for the birth.”
Not exactly what I'd call it.
We chatted as I ate, catching up on our respective news – you don't realise how much has happened until you try telling someone else.
“Sorry to break things up you two but its time to go.” Dad told us.
I glanced at the clock behind the counter, sheesh, nearly eight fifteen.
“Can we get some cake for later?” I enquired.
“Good idea, no guessing what I suppose?”
“Pflaumkuchen.”
“Thought so, Con do you think we can get fifteen slices?”
“Sure, Herr Bond.” She agreed slipping out of the seat.
“We off?” Mand enquired.
“Yup, Con's just getting some travel rations for us.”
“Well I'm pretty stuffed, you have this all the time?”
“Not always, often it's just coffee and a bun.”
“Probably better than a bowl of cereal.”
“Maybe.”
My goodbyes with Con were necessarily short and by twenty past we were heading down the valley towards Ahrweiler.
“Sorry about back there, with Con.”
“It's alright, she's your friend.”
“So are you.”
“I should hope so, Gaby Bond!”
“Dad, she's picking on me!”
“You're a big girl now, I'm sure you'll live.” Dad supplied.
“Um, about that, I'm being Drew on the trip so erm.”
“Drop the Gaby.” Mand stated.
“Er yeah, please, Dad?”
“No problem kiddo, Drew it is.”
Jemma and Caro were waiting outside the flat when we arrived so it was a quick pick up and on to the Ibis to meet with the others.
“Can I have everyone's attention for a minute?” Herr Direktor requested.
We quieted to hear him out.
“We've got about seven hundred and fifty kilometres today, down through Germany, across Switzerland and into Italy. With luck we should get to Lake Como about seven. We'll be having comfort stops regularly and we'll stop for lunch most likely around Basel. Questions?”
I put my hand up.
“Drew?”
“Can me and Mand ride with my Dad?”
“Sorry but I want you all on the bus for now, maybe later. Anything else?”
It was disappointing but I guess I could see his thinking; it would look like we were being favoured which could breed dissent.
“In that case, let's make a move, Dave, I'll ride with you, there's stuff we need to discuss.”
So he gets the comfy leather seats and aircon, sneaky sod!
“Okay campers, buckle up, destination Italy!” Steve cheerfully declared.
I had reclaimed my seat at the back where I recovered my ‘stolen' footwear and returned my ‘borrowed' examples. Dad led the way out of town, out past the Apollinaris plant, under the autobahn, past Heimersheim to pick up the southbound E31 at the Löhndorf intersection. I spent the first few minutes looking for familiar landmarks, Nurburg Schloss, Olsberg – when we crossed the Mosel I gave up and turned my attention to what the girls were discussing.
“Is that true, Drew, your garage is full of bikes?” Laura enquired.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 10.06.13
Chapter *22*
She'll Be Coming (round the mountain)
Whilst not an arrow straight road, the E31 takes a fairly direct route south east tracking but several kilometres from the Rhein to Bingen, where the river flows around a loop past Mainz. The autobahn cuts the corner to Worms where it takes a more southerly direction towards Karlsruhe. Our first pit stop was at Frankental services after a couple of hours driving and something like 200 Km of tarmac.
“Fifteen minutes folks!” Caro announced.
“Where's the lavs?” Claire demanded as we headed across the parking lot.
“They're usually just inside, you got some change?”
“Change?” Sal queried.
“To use the lavs, it's usually about a euro in these places.”
Paying to use toilets was one of the things I found strange when we moved here but you only get caught once or twice; everyone has a fistful of small coins for toilet money. There are free toilets – if you know where to go but you won't find them at motorway services like the Carotel here. The problem here and now wasn't lack of funds but rather that the allowance Caro had distributed on the way down was in the form of a twenty euro note.
“So we'll have to buy something to get change,” Mand observed.
“I've probably got enough kleine geld for now.” I allowed fishing my wallet out to check that was true.
Josh seemed to be having a similar conversation with the lads by the bits of their exchanges I could hear. Of course there are advantages to the system, it's not often you'll come across anything less than pristine lav's, it keeps the drunks and druggies out and instead of being a financial burden, mostly pay for themselves. The bonus at Carotel is that you get a voucher for the same value you pay to use in the services; I've already got a couple in my wallet.
“Bit different to Watford Gap.” Laura mentioned as we waited for the others in the entrance area.
“Yeah, the food's generally pretty good.”
The fact that there's no burger joint, coffee shop, amusement arcade, M&S or Smiths helps, there is a small ‘travel' shop and the Dinea style restaurant offers enough variety for most tastes. If you want a big M, there are plenty about – off the motorway.
When we got back to the bus Steve, Chris and Dad were chatting, yeah it's cool Dad's with us.
“I've spoken to Darren on the way down, they're about an hour away from the hotel and the weather is glorious,” Steve reported.
“I can work on my tan then,” Geth chuckled.
“If everyone's ready, we'll get on,” Dad advised.
We mounted up and were soon rejoining the southbound autobahn to continue our journey.
The Rheinland Pfalz is not the most visually exciting region, I guess the mixture of low hills and almost level farmland is a bit like north Nottinghamshire / Lincolnshire. Wherever you are it's not that exciting and once you've giggled at signs to Worms there's not a lot outside the bus of interest. Traffic was building up a bit by the time we crossed the Rhein at Karlsruhe but once the dark hills of the Schwarzwald appeared a lot of that traffic started to turn off leaving the autobahn to the hardcore travellers like ourselves.
Baden Baden, Strasbourg - the destinations rolled past as we followed the Rhein valley southwards. By this time I was expecting us to stop for lunch at the Freiburg services but we ploughed on, now picking up signs for Basel and Mulhouse. The crossing into Switzerland was a bit of a non event, as a Schengen country it's effectively an open border so we were past the city on the Zurich bound motorway before we even realised we'd entered our sixth country in under a day.
When a few minutes later we turned off and into Pratteln services my stomach wasn't the only one having a bit of a rumble. Unlike the German places, Pratteln is more like places in the UK, the restaurant straddling the busy motorway to make best use of the limited space available.
"Lunch," Steve announced.
"I could eat a horse." Jamie allowed as he eased himself out of his seat.
"You're not in Belgium now." Mark supplied with a grin.
"They don't, do they?" Sal asked.
"Let's just say the red meat isn't all cow based." Mark disclosed.
"Come on guys, time's a wasting," Jemma prompted.
We made our way up to the Autogrill Schweiz where Dad's language skills – he can get by in German, were already being put to use at the checkout. As we waited I surveyed the menu boards, everything from ‘American Burger' to ‘Rösti' – something for everyone by the looks of it.
“Okay everyone, get what you want to eat – nothing too extravagant please, the girl on the checkout will put it on a tab for me to pay once you're all done.” Chris informed us.
“No caviar then?” Laura sighed.
“Have to settle for the T-bone I guess.” I added as we headed to the tray pickup.
“You are kidding, I hope?” Jemma enquired.
“Might be a bit heavy for lunch I guess,” I deadpanned.
“What's in Tagessuppe Drew?” Mand asked peering into the tureen.
I was tempted to run her a line but it wouldn't be fair would it?
“That's soup of the day which looks like cabbage soup with sliced sausage, Bauernesuppe in German. Actually I think I'll partake of that.” I decided.
“Cabbage soup?” Jemma confirmed.
“Tastes better than it sounds, see?” I proffered the bowl I had just filled.
“Think I'll give it a miss today.”
“They've got Gulashsuppe.” I noted.
“Ooo I really like goulash.” Sal enthused.
You don't really want to hear the full conversation, suffice to say that even in these cosmopolitan days some of my teammates were less than enthusiastic about what I now consider standard fare, the Leberknödel looked especially tasty. Still, by the time we got to the checkout everyone had something on their tray, I got a bowl of fries to top up the soup. They had bottles of Radler on offer, so the curious selected that, others had cups of the assorted soft drinks available from the dispensers.
“You eat this stuff all the time?” Claire asked, poking at her Schnitzel.
“Course, you want to squeeze the lemon over it, gives it a bit more interesting taste.”
My soup, by now not so hot, was still pretty good, it seems like months since I had Bauernesuppe – it's probably five or six weeks. Of course our chaperones gathered together on one table leaving us mere riders to our own devices. Somehow that meant I was sat with the girls whilst the rest of the male team members shared another table a few metres away.
When we set off again Chris was at the wheel of the minibus and somehow Caro and Jemma wheedled their way into Dad's Mercedes, huh! Despite the oh so brief visit to Switzerland on the way to the bike show, I've never really seen anything of the country and almost as soon as we turned off onto the A2, the motorway that'll take us nearly all the way to our destination, the road started to climb. When we entered the maw of the Arisdorf tunnel I felt robbed, at a little less than three km it's long by most people's standards but to the Swiss, well this is just a tiddler.
We emerged into the Aare valley where we got our first glimpse of the still distant, like 100km distant, high Alps. I spotted one of the famous yellow Post buses as the motorway descended steeply towards the valley below. We were swallowed by another tunnel, which spat us out almost on the valley floor.
Over the River Aare then a steady climb before dropping to our first Swiss lake, Sursee. The traffic was fairly busy but with commercial traffic restricted at the weekends our bus was one of the slower vehicles heading Alp ward. Exit signs soon suggested our approach to Luzern but the motorway utilises a series of subterranean roadways to transit the city, our first glimpse of Vierwaldstattersee was several K beyond.
“Wow!” Mand allowed.
“What she said.” Laura agreed.
The sun was out and the elevated position of the motorway gave us a great view out over the azure waters below. The English Lakes it's not, they have their own charm I guess, no things here are on a different scale. We plunged into the next tunnel, emerging close to Stans and the exit to Engelberg and Titlis – yes we are teenagers and yes that did cause some exchange of humorous remarks, a bit raw for polite company.
More lake views followed as we headed east along the southern shore of the lake before entering the longest tunnel so far, the ten kilometres plus Seelisberg tunnel. By the time we emerged into sunlight again we were almost past the lake, the open farmland replaced by a steep sided valley.
“We'll stop for toilets at the next services,” Steve called back.
According to the sign that'd be a handful of kilometres before the Gotthard tunnel. The motorway twisted its way ever upward through seemingly endless tunnels and snow galleries, allowing us just brief glances of the scenery through which we were passing. By the time we did get to the services I wasn't the only one crossing their legs.
“Hope they take euros,” I noted as we scuttled to the facilities.
Whilst at the heart of Europe, Switzerland is not in the EU, they take euros some places but not all. However this is one of the main north/south alpine crossings so there's a good chance they'll take them. Euros they took – but not for the lavs as there wasn't a charge here, just as well, my Klein geld is pretty much used up after lunch at Pratteln.
“Alright, kiddo?” Dad enquired as I squinted back into the late afternoon sun.
“I guess, getting a bit stiff sat on the bus so long.”
“It looks like it'll be a bit longer than planned too.”
“Why?”
“According to the chap at the fuel pumps the Gotthard is shut, they're directing passenger traffic over the pass.”
“Cool!”
“It's gonna add a good hour to the journey,” Dad pointed out.
“Erm, maybe not so cool then, there's no other way?”
“This isn't the Eifel, the tunnel goes under that big lump of rock up there.” He pointed at the wall of rock closing the end of the valley off. “It's either through or over, going around isn't on the radar.”
The news was distributed, the options were limited, wait perhaps hours for the tunnel to re-open or go over the top. It was a no brainer really; when we got to the tunnel toll it was clear most of the other traffic thought the same as we joined a necessarily slower stream of traffic taking the old route 2.
As we climbed, the scenery and road became evermore dramatic, hairpin bends, spectacular bridges, not just for the road but also for the railway that shares the climb of the gorge to Andermatt. The bus wasn't too keen about the climb, not helped by the amount of traffic on the road, which caused us to end up much closer to Dad's rear bumper than you'd like more than once.
Inside the bus we were all agog, the trip to Wales earlier in the week seemed flat by comparison to this.
“My legs ache just looking at it.” Claire observed.
I could only agree with that sentiment.
“If it goes up, there has to be a down,” Darren reasoned.
“Hope there's nothing like this next week.” Laura stated.
The silence from the front seat was rather ominous.
The stream of traffic broke onto what I think is an actual Alp, the feature the range is named for. Some made the turn into Andermatt; we however passed by on the erm bypass to Hospental where our choices were the Furka Pass or the Gotthard Pass. Compared to the drive up to Andermatt, the Gotthard road was almost a motorway.
“Wow!” Sal exclaimed, “There's snow up there.”
“Can't be, it's August,” Geth argued.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 13.06.13
Chapter *23*
Bella Bella
If it wasn't snow it was something doing a great impression of snow.
“And?” Mand demanded.
“Gi up man, there'll be nay beating o ‘er.” Jamie stated.
“There are places you can ski in summer.” I supplied.
“If you say so.” Clearly unconvinced Geth replied.
The north side of the Gotthard actually only climbs about 600m from Hospental to the 2100m summit and that on a fast straight road only disrupted by a single pair of hairpins. The bus complained a little on the bends but managed to pickup a bit of speed as we approached the summit with its tourist facilities. I thought we'd be going straight through but Dad had pulled in so we followed.
“What's up?” Chris enquired when Caroline reached us a moment or two later.
“You were burning a bit of oil coming up, it's a wonder the cars behind weren't hooting.”
“I wondered what that guy that passed us was pointing at,” Chris mentioned.
“Damn,“ Steve opined, “we'll have to let her cool down for a bit before we can top up.”
By now Dad and Jemma had arrived.
“What do you reckon, Dave?” Chris asked.
“I think Steve's right, give it fifteen minutes, you got some oil?”
“Five litre can. I hope it's not anything serious, it was only serviced a fortnight ago,” Steve advised.
“Okay then, people, looks like you get to do the tourist thing for a bit, back here in thirty minutes.” Chris told us.
It was fairly warm considering our altitude, the thermometer outside of the restaurant claimed 25c, of course the almost cloudless sky helped. The signage was dual language, German and Italian; the pass marks the point where you enter Ticino and Italian speaking Switzerland.
“Hey, we should get a picture of everyone by the summit sign.” Laura suggested.
“Great idea,” Darren agreed.
“I've got my camera on the bus,” I supplied.
By the time I'd recovered my David Bailey kit I had to run to catch the others who were nearly at the much-photographed sign.
“You coulda waited.”
“And miss watching you chase us,” Gethin grinned.
“Hmmph!”
We conned a leather-clad biker into taking the pictures then headed back towards the building complex.
“I'm getting an ice cream.”
“Sounds like a plan, man.” Josh agreed.
“Better hurry, looks like they're shutting up.” Mark observed.
“It's not that late.”
“‘S after five.” Claire noted.
I didn't need much urging and I found myself as quartermaster, my German trumping everyone's Italian for ordering. They weren't closing just yet but probably before six comes around. Our euros were good to buy but we got our change in Swiss francs – I guess they'll be useful when we come back for the racing.
“You think we should take boss man and the others some?” Mand suggested.
“I know Dad'll go for it.”
“Might score a few brownie points.” Sal smirked.
“We got ice cream.” I announced when we got back to the Team GB vehicles.
“Ooh you darling!” Jemma exclaimed.
“Thanks kiddo.” Dad allowed when I passed him his tub.
“We got vanilla coz we weren't sure what flavours you all like.” Claire offered.
“Thanks guys, vanilla's fine.” Caro told us.
“How's the bus doing like?” Josh enquired.
“It should be alright,” Steve told us around his ice cream, “it doesn't seem to have used too much oil, we have been thrashing it a bit after all.”
“It's mostly downhill to Italy now.” Chris added.
“We're that close?” Jamie asked.
“We've got about eighty kilometres to the road border but I think it's only about twenty as the crow flies.” Steve supplied.
“Talking of which we should get moving,” Chris observed.
The descent back to the motorway at Airola is completely different to our ascent, a tunnel and half a dozen big lazy hairpins dropped us a full kilometer of height into the Val Ticino. We rejoined the motorway to find the tunnel now reopened – sod's law but we did get to go over a real alpine pass. As the road flowed down the valley the shadows started to deepen although the opposite wall was still in bright sunlight.
At Bellinzona we picked up more traffic from the San Bernadino road but with the time now well after six most traffic was fairly local. Another tunnel took us away from the Ticino and soon we were leaving the A2, our route since Basel across Switzerland and heading into Lugano. Much like the English Riviera enjoys a milder climate than much of the rest of the country, the Swiss Riviera boasts a similar advantage to the rest of that country.
The palm trees and idyllic lakeside setting of Lugano really were a surprise, not least after our Gotthard experience of bare rock and scrubby grass. Dad led us through the town and we were soon following the lakeside towards the Italian border. The sun on the waters below the road was mesmerizing, we crossed into our third country today with no fanfare, just a change in the road signs.
Through Porlezza then an interesting drop to Mennagio and our first views of Lago di Como. When we followed the Mercedes down to the lakeside and what looked like some sort of ferry terminal I wasn't the only one surprised.
“Wait on the bus please.” Chris instructed before heading to the office with Dad.
“Looks like another boat ride.” Laura mentioned.”
“No kidding.” Geth observed.
“Guess we're staying over there somewhere.” Sal guessed.
“Yeah.” Claire agreed.
“I think there's two ferries, one goes to Verreno and the other one to Bellagio.”
“How'd you work that out?” Josh asked.
“It's not difficult, Chiatta Verreno and Chiatta Bellagio on the signs over there, the sign when we turned in said something like Su Chiatta with Verreno and Bellagio underneath.”
“Proper Poyrot* aren't we.” Mand stated.
“Hey look, there's a ferry coming in.” Laura pointed across the glittering waters.
Chris returned just then and climbed back into the bus.
“Our ferry should be here in a couple of minutes.”
“That one's gonna take at least ten minutes.” Jamie suggested.
“That one might but not the one over there.” I observed watching the fast approaching vessel come in from a completely different direction.
We weren't the only vehicles waiting to cross the waters, several had now arrived behind us and there were a couple in front of our Mercedes. Engines were started bringing with the sound an air of expectation. The ferry, a fair sized beast which reminded me of the Bodensee ferry we used with Gran to get to Friedrichshafen, eased up to the loading quay. Within moments a stream of cars and even a coach banged and clanged ashore before speeding away from the shore.
Steve started the bus and we moved forward to board. The signs indicated this service was bound for Bellagio and if I've got it right it takes thirty minutes to make the crossing. We were soon afloat and by the time we were climbing up to the passenger deck we were moving out onto the waters of Lake Como.
“Not exactly Home Counties.” I allowed.
“Beats Glesga, too.” Jamie added.
We were stood looking out towards the lower but still significant peaks rising from the lakeside.
“My legs are already aching.” Mand sighed.
“What do you reckon dinner'll be,” Mark enquired, “my money's on spaghetti.”
“Lasagna.” Sal suggested.
“Just because it's Italy doesn't mean it has to be pasta.” Laura observed.
“Like?” Geth asked.
“I dunno.” She admitted.
“We're not going across, looks like were heading towards the big lump stuck out over there.” I pointed past the prow of the ferry.
“You might be right, I bet that's that Bellagio place.” Josh told us.
A scratchy announcement in Italian apparently requested that passengers return to their cars – it was a guess but everyone else headed back down the steep stairways to the car deck so we followed.
“Not far now, guys,” Steve mentioned as we waited to disembark.
Good job too, I mean, you can get tired of traveling like this, it's not that we've been cramped up too much but just being sat so long is just bleh! Off the ferry and out of Bellagio along a narrow and twisty road following the lakeshore towards Lezzeno. We lost Dad the first time a car came the other direction, it wasn't so much the size of our bus, rather Steve was sat the wrong side to see what was happening. Not that the Hotel Como was difficult to find, the bike truck and the family Mercedes both advertised arrival at our destination.
I'm not sure what I was expecting but whatever it was, this wasn't it. Faded and flaking yellow paint covered walls laden with wide windows and wooden shutters. It was pretty much on the lake, a narrow road cum walkway separating the building from the waterside. You could I suppose call it ‘rustic' or maybe ‘lived in' would be more appropriate.
Caroline had clearly made use of their extra minute or two here and was already heading towards the bus with a tall blond bloke.
“Welcome, welcome, bon giorno!” he enthused, “Welcome to Hotel Como, we hope you will enjoy your stay in Lezzeno.”
His English though accented was far better than my Italian.
“Come, come, we have food prepared, you musta all be tired from the journey, it was so long, no?”
Food – sounds good to me.
“You don't need your bags just yet, Giovanni has dinner waiting so we'll eat before sorting out your rooms,” Caro instructed.
“What're you waiting for?” Chris prompted.
We didn't need a second prompt, we poured out of the bus and followed ‘Giovanni' and Caroline into the building. Inside it was very much like the place I stayed in with Dad when we went to see the Tour a few weeks ago.
“Bella, Bella – lay-dees, please, please come through.”
Our host stood aside and ushered us past into the dining room.
Hang on I'm at the front, ahead of Laura and Mand, he did say ladies didn't he?
“Come on, Drew, it's not like you to waste trough time.” Caro admonished.
“Er yeah, sorry.”
That's all I need, the girl business already.
* Intentional mis pronunciation of Poirot, the fictional Belgian detective
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 15.06.13
Chapter *24*
Hotel Como
Tonight we were on three tables, riders on two and the support team, for which read the adults, on the other. There wasn't anything to say so but the girls all ended up on one table, lads on the other – I say girls, I was first to a seat, Mand and co just filled the other places so it was girls and me. Once we were seated, our host claimed our attention.
“You have had a long trip to us, you are cyclisimo , the appetite is good yes?”
Indeedy.
“Giovanni he says what good for this, Maria my wife she say pasta, but I think too heavy for today. We compromise, Maria she make a the soup with how you say, dumpling, Giovanni make the special risotto pollo* for you to enjoy. Lidia and Claudio will start serving straight away; Eve will get you the drinks, enough talk, time to eat!”
The soup arrived in short order, a clear chicken broth with the promised dumplings, no not the sticky suet things but much smaller dough balls along with a plate of fresh bread. It wasn't unexpected that it was tasty just unexpectedly tasty, hmm, mighty fine!
“I'd hardly call these dumplings.” Claire opined studying one on her spoon.
“They'd probably say the same about our lumps of suet,” Laura suggested.
“At least it's not a tin of Heinz® like you get in some places back home,” Sal averred.
“Nothing wrong with Heinz® .” I asserted.
“In a four star hotel? I swear it was tinned soup at my cousin Zoe's wedding.” Claire observed.
The serving team were nothing if not efficient, empty dishes were quickly cleared and a space cleared on each table for the main course. Lidia distributed warmed plates to each of us on the table before Giovanni and Claudio brought in the risotto. You know risotto? Rice, veggies, maybe a bit of meat thrown in, the dish on our table looked like it would feed about a dozen, unlike the stuff I've had before this looks a lot lighter – for starters the rice isn't all stuck together!
A bowl of salad arrived and we were set.
“Please, lay-dees, helpa yourselves.” Giovanni prompted seeing our hesitation.
“Um thanks.” I allowed, grrr, he's including me with the girls again!
I guess no one on our table wanted to appear greedy, well I've got no qualms but even I didn't indulge in a big pile of risotto. It was, in risotto terms, to die for, I mentioned the rice, the chicken wasn't chopped but rather pulled from the bone, peas, peppers and olives added more colour and texture – my first helping barely saw the plate.
“Bleh!” I allowed sitting back.
“Yous girls eating that like?” Josh enquired indicating the still food laden dish on our table.
“All yours,” Mand offered.
“Cool, Geth gis a hand, man.”
“Dunno where they put it.” Claire sighed.
“They're boys, their stomachs are like a Tardis**.” Sal chuckled.
“Dad reckons I've got hollow legs,” I noted.
“That's not all.” Mand whispered which earnt a hard stare.
“What's that?” Laura asked.
“Nothing, private joke.” Manda supplied.
Yeah and it better stay private Miss De Vreen.
It being Italy dessert was two small scoops of sorbet, just enough to clean the mouth but not really a pudding – not that anyone had space for much more. We were of course restricted to soft drinks with the meal, not so the ‘crew' table where a couple of bottles of wine and several beers were doing their best to lubricate parched throats. As is normal in Europe we finished with coffee, well espresso in a tiny cup with one of those cinnamon biscuits, you know the ones.
“I'm well stuffed,” I declared.
“I'm ready for bed,” Claire supplied in turn.
As if waiting for that cue; Director Toynbee stood up, “Attention people.”
The murmur of conversation ceased and everyone turned their attention to boss man.
“Okay, folks, I'm sure some of you at least are keen to get to your beds, it's been a long couple of days for everyone. In a minute Caroline will sort out your room allocations but before she does just a couple of reminders. Behaviour, I know you are all mature enough not to do anything silly, I hope you will all look out for each other. If there are any issues come and find one of us; if you have any issues talk to us.
Tomorrow, breakfast from eight in here, it'll be a steady ride, a leg stretch after the journey – we'll be starting the real work on Monday so make the most of it. Enough from me, over to you Caroline.”
Chris returned to his seat as Caro stood.
“Thanks, Chris, right you all know who you are rooming with, Mike and Daz have already got your bags to your rooms so in a minute you need to collect your overnights off the minibus and Giovanni and his team will take you to your rooms. As Chris mentioned breakfast is from eight, we won't be going straight out so you don't need to be togged up first thing.
So bus, bags, reception.”
“Therea musta be a mistake; I will not allow these ina my hotel!” Giovanni stated with some vehemence.
“But...” Caro tried to speak.
“No, I'ma sorry but I cannot allow this, maybe ina England this is ok but Lezzeno, is not gonna happen.”
“What's up man?” Josh enquired with a whisper.
“Something to do with us sharing I think.”
“But everyone's sharing like.”
“You two want to wait outside?” Caro suggested, “We'll get this sorted out okay.”
I've got a fair idea of the problem, it happened in Altenahr, when we visited Mum a couple of years ago too, Giovanni thinks I'm a girl. Back then I ended up sharing with Jules but this time, well I can't see how we can sort it if I can't share with Josh.
“Problem chaps.” Caroline advised her colleagues now relaxing in the bar.
“Already?” Steve sighed, “What've they done?”
“Nothing, it's what Giovanni thinks they might that's the problem.”
“Come again?” Chris requested.
“Drew and Josh, he's convinced they um, are a couple.”
“Gay?” Daz suggested.
“Um not exactly, think like boy girl.” Caro mentioned, “Problem is I can't convince him otherwise so we've got a bed problem.”
“What's up?” Dave enquired returning from the facilities.
“Problem with Giovanni,” Chris stated, “he seems to think Drew is a girl, that right, Caroline?”
“'bout sums it up, Chris.”
“She's not?” Jemma put in.
“So we've got a bed problem, the hotel is booked out, looks like someone's sleeping in the bus.” Chris observed.
“What about my room?” Dave asked.
“What about it, I know he's your son but I don't think Giovanni will go for you sharing,” Caro observed.
“I can see that, but if I share with Josh, Drew can use my single, problem solved.”
“One solved, can of worms opened,” Steve concluded.
“Yup, we don't want to be accused of favouritism,” Chris stated.
“Am I missing something?” Jem asked.
“Later, Jem.” Caro suggested.
“So we need a reason for putting Drew in Dave's room,” Steve mused.
"Okay you two," Caro greeted us, "we've sorted things out but there are complications."
"'Kay."
"Complications like?"
"It seems our host is convinced that Drew is a girl hence all the malarkey about you two sharing."
"That's all I need," I sighed.
"Well you were sat with the girls at dinner; he was muttering something about your ID card too."
"Bum."
"So like where are we kipping?" Josh enquired.
"You're in the room we booked for you guys, Drew's dad will bunk with you and Drew will have his dad's single room."
"That's not so bad." I allowed, "I sense a but though."
"The problem is it could look like favouritism to the others so we've come up with a little subterfuge to excuse it."
"Aye?" Josh noted.
"Seems Mr Bond here snores - a lot."
"I do not!"
"Whilst we're here you do. If anyone on the team asks, that's the story."
"Okay, what about when we go to Switzerland?"
"Aye, it'll be a bit strange if next time we share okay." Josh suggested.
"We'll cross that later, so you two okay with this?"
"I guess I can snore."
"Aye, as long as snoring isn't in the family." Josh grinned.
"Come on then, let's get you settled in."
They'd squeezed Dad in at the last minute, a room not normally used for visitors up in the roof space. Still it has its own shower and toilet, there might not be room to swing a cat but the bed is comfy and the view from the admittedly small window is out across the lake. If I'd been sharing with Josh that room, whilst somewhat bigger had a great view over a back alley so I think I've scored here.
Well I guess as I'm on my own I might as well be comfortable in bed so after a quick shower I pulled my shorty pj's out of the case, well really they're loose cotton shorts and a cami top. I don't care if it's girly, they're comfortable right and this evening it's warm – it's not as if anyone is likely to see me is it? I tossed and turned for a while but sleep eventually overcame exhaustion sometime around midnight.
Bzzzt, bzzzt! Bzzzt, bzzzt!
I flailed an arm to locate the source of the noise, my hand eventually closing on my handy just as it completed a third ring.
“Wassup?”
“Drew? Where are you? You're gonna miss breakfast.” Mand's voice instructed.
“'s early still.”
“Only if you call quarter to nine early.”
“It's not?”
“It is.” She confirmed.
Bum, bum, bum! Not again, I must've forgotten to set my alarm.
“I'll be there,”
“In five minutes.” She finished the sentence for me.
* pollo = chicken
** Dr Who's ‘spaceship'
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 19.06.13
Chapter *25*
Como Toes
“So how come you didn't wake sleepy up?” Mark loudly enquired of Josh.
“I had ta get Carol to move him like.”
“What for?” Geth asked.
“He snores like, I couldn't sleep, it was either him or me, so I'm sharing with Mr Bond and Drew's in his dad's room.”
“Here's sleeping beauty now.” Daz announced as I rushed into the dining room.
“Morning!”
My arrival was greeted by a round of raucous cheering.
“Maybe that's how he wins so much, he's late for breakfast!” Mark put forward.
“Leave her-im alone,” Mand suggested, “it's not that often he oversleeps.”
“Yeah, like it's only once a day!” Claire chimed in.
“Keep it down a bit guys,” Chris instructed, “there are other guests.”
“Sorry Chris.” Mark said by way of apology.
“We're done anyhow, see you ladies in a bit!” Darren smirked.
The lads left leaving the room much quieter and me sat with the girls.
“So what's breakfast?”
“The first meal of the day.” Mand deadpanned which caused the others to start giggling.
“You know what I mean.”
“Same sort of thing we had yesterday.” Laura offered.
“He wasn't there dumbo,” Claire observed.
“Rolls and cheese and stuff,” Sal informed me.
“Cool, back in a mo.”
In my limited experience I've found the ‘continental' breakfast to vary from a veritable feast to yesterday's rolls, garlic sausage and Edam. The Hotel Como would rate about eight by my scale, even now there were warm rolls, a good selection of meats and cheese, jams, honey, choccy spread, yoghurt, muesli, fruit and of course fruit juice, tea and coffee. I put together a reasonable meal, taking two trips back to the table to ferry it all.
“You eating all that?” Sal asked.
“It's not much, need to keep going until lunch.” I observed finishing the first course, yoghurt over fruit salad.
“Coffee, laydeez?”
I hadn't noticed Giovanni's approach.
“Er please,” I knew there was something missing from my ensemble.
Mand and Laura took a refill too before our host departed
“Ten minutes in the garden, you can bring your drinks.” Steve came and told us before he and Chris departed.
“Sugar.”
“It was you that slept over,” Claire accused.
“Must be all that snoring!” Sal chortled.
What could I say? They all thought that was why I had been banished to a single room.
“Whatever.” I mumbled as I made my first sandwich, Gouda, garlic sausage, slice of tomato and strip of smoked ham.
“I never noticed before, Drew, you've really got tiny feet,” Sal stated.
“They're 36.” I defended.
“That's what, a five?” Claire observed.
“About that.” I agreed looking down at my tootsies, on display for all to see in my sandals.
“Sugar!”
“What now?” Mand asked.
“You coulda said, guys.”
“You're no fun, Drew, and anyhow you could've removed it,” Laura suggested.
So alright it's not exactly unusual for my toenails to be painted, when I'm in Gaby mode but I'm supposed to be Drew right now.
“Exactly when and with what?” I huffed.
“I've got some remover,” Manda noted.
“There's no time now, we need to get outside,” Claire told us.
Damn, I've still got half my breakfast here.
“Bring it with you,” Sal prompted.
“Everyone here now?” Chris queried. “I hope you all slept well?”
“Eventually.” Josh slipped in.
“Sorry.” I allowed making my contribution to the tale.
“As I said last night, today will be quite relaxed, nothing too strenuous, I know some of you have experience riding in the right hand gutter but the others need to acclimatise to what that means. It'll also be a chance for the tech crew to check out your bikes, make sure everything is doing what it should.
When we finish here in a few minutes you'll need to get togged up then come back out to the truck, Mike and Darren have already got the tyres pumped and ready to go. We'll leave about ten thirty, ride up to the ferry then we've got something like a hundred kilometres circuit before we get back. Questions?”
“We need bottles and stuff?” Geth asked.
“No, Jem has that covered, you'll get fresh while we're out too, Manda?”
“Do we need money?”
“Good question, we'll be stopping for a break at some point, you'll need some sort of lunch, so unless you intend living off energy bars the answer is yes. You can leave them with Mr Bond in the car so they're not in your pockets all day. Anything else? No, okay I'll pass you to Caroline then.”
“Thanks, Chris, right, the first thing I have to say is about the riding. We might be on the opposite kerb to where most of you are used to but the rules are pretty much the same. Second thing, we don't have the moped here so Steve and myself will be on bikes too, sometimes both, sometimes one of us. Lastly we forgot to give you your allowance yesterday, sorry about that, so if you see me after you can collect two day's worth.”
It's not like we have much opportunity to spend it.
“So people, time to make a move.” Chris enthused, “Drew, can I see you for a minute? Get your allowance first.”
“Erm, sure.”
After I collected my dosh, twenty euros a day, I joined Chris who guided me along the waterfront a short way.
“How're you doing?”
“Okay I guess.”
“You're probably more used to travelling to races than I am, it's the first time we've done this with the junior squad.”
“Uh huh.”
“How are you getting along with the others?”
“I've not had much chance to talk to Mark but he seems okay.”
“What about the others?”
“We're all mates I guess.”
“No one's bullying you at all?”
“Bullying?”
“The girls did pull that stunt with your shoes on Friday, I see you've still got the nail paint, they aren't picking on you?”
I shrugged, “It was just a prank, no harm done. I've not had a chance to get the stuff off, Mand's got some remover so I'll do it later.”
“A bit of joking about is fine but please, if anyone goes further let one of us know, there's no room for that kind of thing on the team. We know you might not all get on all of the time but persistent name-calling and so on is a different matter. You'd best go get changed or you'll earn a reputation for being late.”
“As if.”
When Apollinaris race Dad sorts the bikes out, with Dieter's help if he's about and Angela and Sonja do the feeds and that's about it. BC were trying to do this much more professionally so when I got to the bike bus I found Jemma and Caro applying sun cream to everyone. All the non riders including Dad had BC polo's on and the mechs were doing final checks on our bikes under one of those easy up tent things, the morning already developing a temperature in the mid twenties.
The Mercedes had sprouted a bunch of spare wheels, a couple of spare bikes and magnetic door signs for British Cycling. Darren & Mike will use the minibus as a supply base, Jemma and Chris will be with Dad in the car.
“Let's go,” Steve finally announced.
We manoeuvred out onto the road we came in on last night, our little convoy causing a bit of a distraction for locals and visitors alike. It's only about twenty five minutes ride up to Bellagio and in that distance we crossed or passed at least fifty Tifosi pottering along on their gleaming steeds, all show, no go for the most part. I use the ferries on the Rhein quite regularly but for the others I think this was a first.
There are three ferry routes using Bellagio and today it was the turn of the Chiatta Verreno, a forty-minute ride to Lago di Como's eastern shore. We had a short wait, about twenty minutes then it was a careful ride down the ramp and onto our floating road, bikes first yay. Although not the same as last night's vessel the layout is pretty much the same, car deck with passenger facilities above.
“Who'd've thought we'd be doing this.” Laura sighed as we leant on the rail enjoying the light breeze across the lake.
“Beats riding round Surrey,” Mand agreed.
“Or Bristol,” Daz added.
I hadn't really thought about what I'd be doing this summer as the whole BC thing has been on the calendar since the spring. Wonder what the girls'll be doing today? Hitting the Bad at Remagen if the weather's like this no doubt. I think Bernie said her rents were taking her and Andrea to Norfolk for a week. I'm so out of the loop with the others I've no idea what they're up to this summer.
“Penny for ‘em,” Mand offered.
“Just thinking what Con and the others'll be doing, most likely working on their tans at the pool.”
“You have an outdoor pool?”
“There's a big one down at Remagen, we go quite a bit.”
“What if it's raining?”
“We don't go, it's not like anyone goes to swim, there are lanes at school for that.”
“I don't even know of an outdoor pool near us, there's the municipal baths and the fancy new fitness centre has one you can go and use.” She paused for moment before saying, “You miss them don't you?”
“I guess, you must have friends at home too.” I replied.
“Yeah but I could tell, yesterday with Connie, you've got something else, it's like you're part of some big family, I don't think I've even met my BF's dad, I'm not even sure what he does. You guys, well it's completely different.”
“Never really thought about it.” I admitted.
I suppose we are pretty close, like family that actually gets on, until this summer we've been living practically in each other's pockets. Hardly a day goes by without seeing one of them or doing stuff with them, I couldn't tell you the last time I did anything with Jules – and she's family!
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 20.06.13
Chapter *26*
Up, Up & Away
“Back to the bikes.” Steve commanded as the ferry began its approach to Verreno.
Riding off wasn't really an option, the ramp and slipway were a bit too steep to ride up from a standing start at the bottom so we pushed our steeds onto dry land.
“Right, guys, mount up – let's get this show on the road!” Caro instructed.
We set off through Verreno getting a few friendly toots before Steve got us onto the right road - the sign said it went to Parlasco and Esino Lario at 20 and 8km respectively. The road climbed over the railway line and then started to rise before we hit the first hairpin. It wasn't that the gradient was excessive but by the second of an eventual nine hairpins our dozen riders were already spread over fifty metres, by the time the road levelled off some it was considerably more.
“That was intense.” Mark noted as we soft pedalled to wait for the others.
“Yeah.” I agreed.
“I'm not much of a climber meself.” He admitted.
“I make do.” In truth my build is well suited to climbing, it's going down where I can lose the advantage.
“Where are they going? That's not the road we agreed on.” Chris mentioned to Dave.
There had been a bit of delay getting off the ferry, a Dutch bloke couldn't get his mobile home up the ramp so the car's occupants only just spotted the riders turning off the main road.
“No idea but we'd best follow.”
“You sure this is the right road?” Caro asked Steve as they passed a name board for Perledo.
“It had Parlasco on the sign.”
“I thought we had to follow the lake for a bit.”
“You sure?”
In her head she was, maybe five kilometres before the turn, Steve had taken the first sign with the right name.
“Well if this goes to the right place.”
Up ahead, Drew, Mark, Josh and Jamie had settled into a steady pace, Mand was sharing pace with Geth, the others a few metres astern. The road soon went into a second series of hairpins, the last three adding a big chunk of altitude in about 400m. There was some respite from the relentless climb though as they were spat into the mouth of a narrow valley.
“Some view,” Jamie allowed looking out over Varenna to Lake Como and beyond.
“Aye, almost worth the climb like,” Josh agreed.
“Best let the others come up, we're not in a rush,” I suggested.
“Stop?” Mark hopefully offered.
“Good for me, bit of a pull-in just ahead.” Josh observed.
We pulled up and almost in unison grabbed our bidons.
The next little group weren't too far behind then we had nearly five minutes to wait before Caro and Steve arrived with the stragglers.
“Everyone okay?” Caroline asked reaching for her own bottle.
“Yeah, just a bit unexpected,” Mark confirmed.
“We'll try to give you warning in future.” She mentioned with a look at Steve like daggers.
The car passengers had agreed to hold back on the climb.
“This'll be testing a few legs,” Chris observed.
“Not least Steve and Caro,” Dave grinned to which Jemma added a giggle.
“Looks like they're on the move again.” Chris noted.
“Time to move,” Steve instructed.
We set off again, the valley is relatively straight but the road darts about following the left hand wall as it persistently climbs away from the lake. It wasn't far along the road before we were once again riding piano in a fairly tight formation.
“Own pace to the top,” Caro called to us as the road ahead started a more determined climb up into and through a village.
“Josh?” I enquired.
“I'm game, man.”
“Let's do it.”
“Right,” Mark smiled.
The road took a sharp right and I stepped on the gas, upping the speed by five kph. Josh easily matched my effort, behind however, confusion reigned, Mark mis-timed his effort, Jamie couldn't do the acceleration and of the others only Mand even made an effort. Having gained some space I let Josh come up to share the pace and we fell into race mode.
Have to give Mark his dues, for a self confessed non climber he was having a good go, sliding onto Jamie's wheel and holding it. The gap from Josh and I continued to grow with every pedal stroke. Several riders streaked downhill, giving us a wave as we crossed before disappearing behind us with a squeal of brakes.
Apart from the contrast in weather it reminded me of that race at Stuttgart, climbing with the pack chasing behind. Josh looked in good order but whilst he's strong, a climber he isn't, yeah why not. We were in the village, something Larrio, before I made my move, a slick down change then out of the saddle up the narrow street away from the piazza.
“Shit!” Josh allowed with a crash of gears.
I climbed steadily through the houses before attacking the climb as the road entered a short series of hairpins. I was conscious of a car coming up behind, I kept wide to delay his passing until I'd made bend two. He passed then, it was our Merc; Dad sounded the horn and accelerated away.
“Pity the World's is so flat this year,” Chris noted.
“One for the sprinters I guess,” Dave supplied.
“I guess we've got that covered, but I doubt there's many can match laddo climbing.”
“Possibly.” Dave agreed, both embarrassed and proud that it was his child they were discussing.
“Wish we had more of his calibre.”
“Give it time, Chris, small steps, after this trip I think you'll see a big change, something to take forward.”
“I hope so, I really do, Dave's confident but the road isn't like the ‘drome, you can't control everything the same way.”
“Here okay?” Dave asked as they passed the summit of the climb.
“Spot on.”
A glance back down the road after the next bend revealed a now spent Josh being overhauled by what looked like Jamie with the distinctive figure of Mark labouring away manfully some distance adrift. What turned out to be the last hairpin was unusually square cornered but once ridden the gradient eased, levelling towards where Dad, Chris and Jemma were stood by the car. Last effort, up a sprocket, yes! I punched the air as I desisted pedalling.
“Well done, lad.” Chris congratulated me.
“You okay, Drew?” Dad asked as I collapsed over the handlebars, only now getting sufficient oxygen on board after the effort of the climb.
“Bit huh, cramp, left.”
“Off the bike, Jem.”
“On it, boss.”
By the time Josh and Jamie arrived my bike was stood against the car and I was sat under the hatch tugging on a bidon with Jemma working on my knotted calf muscles.
“What kept you?”
“Were huh, looking at view.” Jamie gasped.
“Flippin' mountain goats.” Josh supplied.
My hand found something slightly squidgy in a bag, Thesings? Buns, we didn't have them yesterday!
“Anyone want cake?”
“Cake?” Chris queried.
“Yeah we got it for the trip yesterday.”
“I forgot all about it,” Dad admitted.
The rest of the squad weren't actually that far behind, you really can't lose too much time over five kilometres so when Sal and Steve joined us it was still only about ten minutes after I arrived. The cake was keenly consumed, I had my pflaumkuchen and Dad ensured that there was some for the mechs – hang on, where are they?
“Where are Mike and Darren?”
“Wondering where we are I should think.” Chris supplied. “We'll rendezvous with them down in the valley, this little er detour has added about an hour to the ride.”
“Detour?” Mark picked up on the word.
“We might have ended up on the wrong road,” Steve admitted.
Well at least the culprit has had to climb up here too, that'll teach him!
Chris was understandably keen for us to press on so, food consumed, we set off downhill. I mentioned before that I lose out to the er chunkier riders on downhills however on a fairly technical drop like this my technical skills allowed me to remain within shouting distance of the heavier riders. In fact on the couple of hairpin sets I made up considerable ground.
We flashed through Parlasco and onto the almost level valley road towards Cortenova. The narrow lane changed to a busier P road* which we then followed up the valley all the way to the Colle di Balisio where our minibus was waiting.
“We might have a problem.” Darren told Chris.
“Another?”
“The road we planned on using after Lecco, there're a couple of long tunnels and no bike facilities.”
“Damn, how'd you find out?”
“A couple with a camper van, the Lecco bypass is the same but at least we can use the old road.”
“Is there a way round?”
“Adds a good twenty k.”
“Suggestions?”
“We could ferry them through?” Mike put forward.
“Or go back via the ferry,” Darren added.
“Can we get everyone on the bus with the bikes?”
“Bit of a squeeze, if we put half the bikes on the car I reckon we can do it.”
‘Why me?' Chris thought to himself.
“May as well load up here, by the time we ride to Lecco and do it we'll lose another hour.”
“Okay, everyone, bit of a change of plan.” Chris announced to his charges a few minutes later.
* Strada Provinciale – equivalent to a B road in the UK
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 22.06.13
Chapter *27*
Como-tion
After the tunnel transit it was a fairly level ride back to Lezzeno first up the side of Lago di Lecco (really just a leg of Lago di Como) back to Bellagio before following the lakeside road we set out on this morning back to base. As a ride it certainly opened everyone's eyes to what the next few days will have in store for us. It certainly wasn't the easy ride we thought we were having; the Esino Lario climb destroyed that fairytale and then some.
“Leg okay, Drew?” Jemma enquired, catching me as I headed towards the hotel after handing my bike to the mechanics.
“Think so, I get a niggle now and then.”
“After dinner this evening, room 23, we'll see if we can make it more then than now.”
“Er sure, twenty three.”
I climbed up to my room and sagged onto the bed, hot, tired but happy. I've found a chink in Mark's armour, not sure how I can use that information but I'm sure I will. I reached out for the map we bought in Manchester, somehow I've become the custodian, and opened it to trace today's ride. Okay compared to the mountains north of us we've been playing on a molehill of a mere 1000m!
I lay there for a few minutes before the ickyness of my kit moved me to head for my tiny en suite and a shower.
“Hey, Drew, fancy a swim?” Laura enquired when I returned to the ground floor.
Hmm, it would be nice but 1) I don't have a cozzie, 2) I don't have a cozzie and 3) my er condition would be revealed.
“Didn't bring any togs but I don't mind hanging out at the pool or whatever.”
“Eve says there's a beach just round the head.”
“Sounds good, who else is going?”
“Nearly everyone I think, we're meeting out front in like ten minutes. I need to change.”
“See you in a bit then.”
Laura dashed up the stairs while I headed out to the veranda. Hmm looks like I'm the first here.
“Wotcha, spud.” Dave greeted taking a seat.
“Hi, Dad, this place is pretty cool huh?”
“Not too bad, how about you?”
“Okay I suppose, Jemma wants to fondle my legs after dinner.”
“You okay with that?”
“I guess, if she can sort out the cramps that'd be good.”
“So what are you up to now?”
“Apparently there's a beach, we're all going for a splash.”
Dave's eyebrows shot up, “Swimming?”
“Not me, might have a paddle I guess.”
“Hi, Mr Bond.” Mand offered joining us.
“Hello, Amanda, well I'd best get on, catch you later.”
“Bye, Dad.”
“You not swimming?” Manda queried.
“One word, breasts.”
“Breasts? Oh right, I hadn't thought about that.”
The arrival of first Darren then the rest of the team halted that particular line of conversation.
“So which way?” Mark queried.
“We follow the path?” Claire offered.
“Let's boogie like,” Josh suggested.
I'm pretty sure there was a shorter route but the walk along the lakeside was nice, a slight on shore breeze taking a bit of the sting out of the, by now quite warm air. We heard rather than saw our destination; clearly we wouldn't have the beach to ourselves.
“Maybe I'll find some Italian hunk?” Sal mentioned.
“Hey, we nae good enough?” Jamie mentioned with what I think was mock indignation.
“Ooo those tans.” Claire put in.
“Those pasta bellies,” Mark added dryly.
“You're only jealous,” Sal retorted.*
“As if.”
The beach wasn't as highly populated as it sounded, the little bay it occupied bouncing noise around. Those already occupying the mixture of sand and pebbles looked to be locals, mostly younger teens and kids, the older occupants away to one side. A few bodies splashed about in the water but most were either playing kick ball or some other beach activity.
“Not exactly rich pickings,” I observed.
“You looking then?” Mand whispered in my ear.
“Just saying!”
Our arrival hadn't gone unnoticed; I think the ‘bon giorno' from one of the older lads was aimed specifically at the girls by his tone and the elbow in his ribs from his mate. The look the girl they were talking to gave us was pure venom so I'm guessing some potential competition wasn't welcome in that quarter.
“Where're we putting our stuff?” Geth enquired.
“What about over by the wall, it'll be in shade soon.” I supplied.
“Yeah looks good,” Laura agreed.
“You not going in?” Mark enquired as the others started splashing about in the waters of Lake Como.
“Not really my thing.”
“Mine either, looks like that's something else we've got in common.”
“I guess.”
“Look, I think we sort of got off on the wrong foot, I was all brag on the way here, trying to impress I guess. You guys, well you've been doing stuff together for a few weeks and I get dumped on you.”
“I wouldn't call it dumped.”
“Whatever, what I'm trying to say is, before I turned up you were like top dog, and that race last week I shat on that. Not a good way to make friends but that's just the way I am, if I get beat, I train harder so I win next time.”
“So what are you saying?”
“I'm saying I'd prefer to be your friend than enemy, I need help to be in with a shout at the finish. That climb this morning, you were making a point weren't you? You can sprint but you can take the race on too, I told you I don't climb well and you used that to rub my nose in it.”
“Erm, I wouldn't put it quite like that and you climb as well as Geth and Daz.”
“Yeah, shite. So what do you reckon? Start again?”
Damn, he's won again, brokering the peace; I should have done it earlier. It's not that I even dislike him, and maybe he's right, I was trying to put him down today. Chris and Co clearly think he should be here and we are supposed to be batting for the same side.
“Deal!”
“What are you two looking so stern about?” Laura asked.
“Man talk?” I offered.
“Squirt more like,” Mark grinned.
“Why you!”
He was already up and running, I was soon chasing him towards the azure waters.
“Engleesh?” the youth enquired.
“Um yeah,” Laura admitted.
“My friend, he think from Nederland.”
“Guess you won that one.”
“Sorry, my Engleesh is not so good.”
“My Italian runs to ‘spaghetti,'” she allowed.
“Your blonde friend, she a make up with the boyfriend, eh?” He pointed to where Drew and Mark were splashing the bay's waters at each other.
“He's not…” she paused as her brain tried to compute what she was seeing. If she didn't know, she'd think it was a cute girl larking about with Mark not the cycling wunderkind, Drew Bond. The hair, was that a hint of breast, that's not exactly a boy's behind is it? If it looks like a duck… “Her boyfriend,” she finished.
“Ah but I see amore in hees eyes, I theenk soon. Sorry we talk of your friend, I'm a Toni.”
“Laura.”
It was close on six before they gathered their stuff and set off for the Hotel Como once more. Laura had spent most of the time with Toni, only coming up for air when Mand and Josh threw some of Lake Como over the amorous pair. Drew had ended up as wet as anyone after landing on his rump in the water, he'd pretty much forgotten why he wasn't in a bikini like the other girls, still with the temperature in the low thirties his tee and shorts soon dried. At some point a raiding party had gone for gelato and drinks but all too soon it was time for dinner.
“Ciao, Bella!”
“Bye, Toni.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Hope so.”
“Bleh!” Josh allowed.
“You're only jealous.” Laura opined.
“He's all yours,” Josh stated.
“Don't worry, Josh, Tali will probably be down at the race.” I offered.
“Aye she will man, she texted last night, Ron and Gret too like.”
“Who is Tali?” Claire asked.
“Josh's girlfriend, she's on the German squad.”
“Drew, man!”
“Sorree.”
Toni had given us directions back more directly to the hotel so instead of twenty minutes we were back in a little over ten. The veranda was well peopled with early diners; it'd be nice to eat out here under the vines and blue skies.
“What time are we eating?” Daz enquired.
“Seven.” Mark supplied.
“Loadsa time.” Geth noted.
“Come on, Drew, you can't go to dinner in that stuff.” Mand stated dragging him towards the stairs.
“Why not?”
“Well duh!” Mand mentioned before they disappeared around a corner.
‘No,' Laura thought to herself, ‘your bra is showing through your t shirt, Drew.'
*I guess most of you have seen Mark's picture by now, he could pass for Italian!
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 24.06.13
Chapter *28*
Spreading The Word
Luckily I have got more than one pair of non bike shorts with me, Mand was right I could hardly turn up for dinner in damp underwear, oversize t shirt and scruffy looking beach shorts. At least it wasn't seawater so another shower wasn't essential, a good sink wash, hairbrush attack and fresh underwear were enough for me to be presentable. Well obviously I had my better shorts and a fresh shirt on too along with my sandals.
“Come on, Drew,” Mand pressed, “I'm starving.”
Maybe not starving but I'm quite hungry myself.
“It's not like we're gonna miss it.” I pointed out.
“So?”
Sometimes I just don't get female logic. When we got to the dining room it was strangely empty, no one there at all.
“Not gonna miss it, huh?”
“We're only a couple of minutes late,” I observed, “it was seven wasn't it?”
“You know it was.”
A jingling of glassware alerted us to another body in the room.
“Hello?” I offered.
“Si?”
“Er essen? Food?”
A head appeared at the bar, Eve the waitress.
“Trinkt?” she had clearly picked up on my German.
“Er no, we're looking for the other cyclists?”
“Ah, you are eating outside tonight girls, you want drinks?”
“Lemonade?”
“Okay, I'll bring them out ladies.”
“Danke schon.”
“So what was that about?”
“She speaks German.”
“I guessed that,” Mand rolled her eyes.
“We're eating on the front.”
“Cool!”
Yeah it is kinda.
“Thought you two had got lost,” Mark mentioned.
“We didn't know you were out here so we were in the dining room.” I explained.
“There was a sign by the door,” Claire told us.
We found seats; the tables out here only seat four so we ended up with Mark and Josh.
“The girl's been round for drinks already like.” Josh stated.
“Yeah we saw her inside.”
“So what do you reckon it'll be tonight?” Mark queried.
“Bound to be pasta today,” I offered.
“It wouldn't be Italy otherwise,” Mand grinned.
Eve came out with the adult's drinks, as she returned inside Claudio and Lidia brought the first supplies of tonight's starter course, not soup tonight but a green salad with a choice of dressings and breadsticks. Claudio plonked the dishes in front of us; Lidia was in charge of the extras.
“Well it's not pasta.” Mark noted poking at his food.
“Unless it's that Verde stuff in disguise,” I teased.
The drinks arrived while we checked out the dressings before making short work of the food. We didn't have to wait long for an exchange of empty dishes for partially laden plates.
“Schnitzel?” Josh queried.
I sniffed at the sauce, “Get it right, Wiener schnitzel.”
“How do you know that?” Mark asked, “They all look the same to me.”
“The schnitzel mostly is but you get different sauces, there's a place back home that claims to do a hundred different ones.”
“I always thought the Germans were weird.”
“Hey, I resemble that remark!”
“Boasting again?” Josh put in.
“I take it they aren't fish fingers.” Mand pointed to the newly arrived dish of croquettes.
“Tater like.” Josh told her, “I'm guessing the other dish is peas and carrots.”
“Yup.” Mark agreed after lifting the lid.
“Still no pasta,” I observed.
It might be spaghetti land but Giovanni's kitchen team have the German staple pretty much cracked, the breadcrumbs were golden, the croquettes creamy inside and the sauce as good as I've had in a restaurant. Of course when I do it it's better – sometimes.
A dessert of two small scoops of ice cream rounded out the meal, coffee followed by which time it was close to nine.
“Before you all disappear, a few words about tomorrow.” Steve started. “Breakfast is from seven, we want to get an early start so out here in your kit for nine. We'll be in two groups, time trial riders will be with Dave and Caroline for the day, rest of you will be hitting the slopes again.”
That news was greeted with a chorus of groans, a day with Dad and Caro doesn't sound so bad though.
“If you haven't dropped today's kit in the laundry can you please do so straight after this.” Caro put in.
“There's no curfew but we do expect you to behave responsibly, not too late to bed eh?”
Some mumbled denials of the thought even crossing our minds along with some less than angelic looks concluded the pep talk.
“Anyone fancy a walk?” Mand asked.
“I've got an appointment.”
“Appointment? At this hour?” Mark enquired.
“Yeah, our luvverly masseuse wants to fondle my pedalling bits.”
“Jemma?” Josh queried.
“One and the same, I had a bit of cramp earlier.” I explained.
“Kill or cure.” Mark grinned.
I'd had the same thought myself.
“Come in.” Jemma allowed.
“Er hi,” I offered once I was inside Room 23.
“Drew, good. I wasn't sure you'd come, not everyone does.”
“I didn't think it was optional.”
“I think some riders get a bit embarrassed but I'm here to help.”
“Sure, so what's the plan?”
“Before we go on I've spoken to Caroline and your Dad, so I know of your little er problem.”
“It's not so little from this side.” I sighed.
“I guess not and I can't imagine for one minute what you're going through. It does however change our relationship a bit.”
“It does? I thought you just rubbed legs.”
“Rubbing legs as you put it is only part of the job, so I double up as laundry maid, general assistant and general grunt. But when I'm rubbing legs I get to play confessor and confidant, bit like a doctor, you say it to me it goes no further.”
“'Kay.”
“Just to clear the air, until this afternoon, I thought you were a girl; Caroline hinted at something last night but there it is.”
“‘S okay I guess, the German Federation were convinced too, I get it all the time.”
“Your dad said. So, shall we take a look at those famous legs of yours?”
“I guess.”
“You okay in your undies?”
“'Kay.”
“When you're ready then."
I nearly had to crawl up to my room an hour or so later, my legs felt so er relaxed, not just loose but deep down unknotted. Jemma hadn't just done my legs, no sirree; she detensioned my arms and shoulders too. The result was that I could hardly control my legs so the climb up three flights of stairs was – er interesting.
It seems though that at every turn more people are finding out about me becoming, whether I want to or not, Gaby. So far everyone has kept it under their hat although Mand has come close to spilling the beans a time or two. Surely it's just a matter of time though, I'm not looking forward to the fall out when, not if it happens.
I fell quickly asleep – after checking my alarm was set of course, I'm not being late for breakfast again!
“Okay, guys, let's get going.” Caro instructed.
“We not riding?” Sal queried.
“Yes but not from here, the car's around the corner.”
We followed her along the street and around the corner to where Dad was waiting with the car, a car with several thousand euros strapped to the roof.
“Morning, everyone.”
“Cool!” Sal allowed.
Cool indeed, we borrowed time trial specials at Northampton last week but I didn't think they'd bring them out here.
“You can admire the bikes later, let's get a move on, we've a ferry to catch.” Caroline urged.
“There's a shooting seat in the boot for one of you.” Dad mentioned.
Guess who fell for that? We were soon all aboard, me sharing the boot space with boxes of kit and supplies.
“I've never been in a Mercedes before.” Sal admitted.
“They're just like any other car,” I shrugged.
“I guess, but still.”
“One of my friends, his dad has one of those new Porsche Cayenne's, we went to Bavaria in it.”
“Now that's a car,” Geth enthused.
“More like a tank.” I offered.
By now we were in a queue of cars on the quayside at Bellagio, just in time it seems as a smaller ferry than we've been on before was just arriving at the loading ramp, where are we going?
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 28.06.13
Chapter *29*
Ferry Well
‘Su Chiatta Griante' the gantry proclaimed so I guess that's where we are headed. The sailing board gave departures at fifteen minute intervals so it's probably not the longest crossing , which is probably just as well , as the ferry was much like the Rhein ferries that take a dozen or so cars with no real passenger facilities like the bigger vessels we've been on the last couple of days. Dad eased the car onboard and before we were out of the car we were on our way across the barely moving waters of Lake Como.
“I think if I won the lottery I'd live here.” Sal stated as we enjoyed the breeze off the water, the temperature already in the low twenties.
“It is nice.” Caro agreed.
“So what are we doing today?” Geth asked.
“Hopefully giving you guys an edge for Switzerland and a head start for Denmark.”
“We do know how to time trial , ” Mand protested .
“I know how,” Dad observed, “but I couldn't ride one, least not competitively.”
“I've seen him ride, he's hopeless!” I confirmed .
“Horses for course,” Caro noted, “there's a difference from competing and getting round okay , to racing to win ; not just technique and fitness but a mindset that lets you ride at 110%.”
“I only ride at 109%.” I sniggered.
“Well maybe next week and in Denmark we'll get the other 1%, eh?” Caro countered .
“Looks like we're nearly there, best get back in the car,” Dad instructed .
Our arrival in Griante was slightly anti climatic there being not much more than the slipway and waiting lane where we landed, the village being on the hillside beyond the lakeside road. Dad turned left and in maybe five hundred metres pulled * into a parking area, spinning the Merc around so that we were facing the lake.
“Villa Carlotta.” I read off the sign by the entrance.
“You have to be on the lake to see it, it's up on the hill above us.” Dad supplied. “ Let's get organised, we've a fair bit to go through.”
Now don't get me wrong but like I'm pretty good at this time trial lark, you've seen my results , right ? And now I have to learn how to do it properly? We got the bikes off the car and with the aid of a turbo trainer Dad tweaked saddle positions and checked the no doubt thrice checked gears on all four bikes.
“Okay, Drew, can we have you back on please?” Caro requested.
“Sure.”
I climbed back onto 'my' steed and clipped in.
“Right Drew, would you get into your testing position please?” Dad asked.
I grabbed the tri-bars and got into the semi crouch that I try to use against the clock.
“So we know Drew is more than fair against the clock and quite successful on the road too. Despite testing being the dominant side of British racing for much of the last century we've consistently under performed on the international stage. Why when had so many specialists did the Johnny Foreigner roadies give us a pasting so many times?” Dad paused.
“Better kit?” Sal suggested.
“Drugs?” Geth added.
“Strict fathers.” I supplied.
“Not the kit, the first low profiles and super light machines came out of our desire for speed, the Europeans, there wasn't after all much of a scene outside of Europe, rode pretty much standard road bikes of the day. Drugs? Well it's likely, their use was certainly widespread but I wouldn't like to say that UK trialling was drug free either.
“No, probably the biggest issue was actually the courses we raced on. The old Time Trials Council insisted that courses were essentially out and back and to give easy comparison between courses, fixed distances, ten, twenty-five, fifty miles. The only events that could use a circuit were hard riders events and the marathons, 12 and 24 hours.
So everyone trained to go fast for these fixed distances on predominantly flat courses which would be fine except out here in Euro land they didn't play ball. Trials in the big tours for example are of variable length, possibly point to point and even include extensive climbing. Throw someone who's racing is usually up and down flat dual carriageways onto an odd distance hilly one-way event and he's lost before he starts.
Yes I know Mr Boardman won the title a few years back but when you look at his palmares it's clear that he made stage race time trials his speciality. It's a bit like the sprinters who hope they can hang on until the final dash but a chancer getting away ruins their chances all too often. Or a climber who flies up the mountains but struggles to keep up on the flat.”
“So you're saying we shouldn't specialise?” Mand asked when Dad finished lecturing.
“No, not at all, but a sprinter who can't get to the finish is useless, a climber who can't race at speed might not get to show off their prowess if they are blown out before the climb. So it is with the time trial specialist, what's the point of beating everyone by say a minute in a trial when we are half an hour off the pace overall?”
“So we aren't learning to be time trial specialists?” Geth queried.
“No, today is about making you better time triallists. Each of you can turn in a fast time but we can make your efforts more cost effective. So when we look at Drew's position what is it that lets him ride fast?”
Dad dissected my position for the others by which time I was getting a bit fed up as demonstration rider. By the time ‘How to time trial part 1' was done it was heading towards eleven thirty, best part of two hours and we've barely turned a pedal. Did I mention that Dad is a really good coach?
“We'll take ten then we'll get you on the road.” Caro told us.
“At last,” I moaned.
My joy was short lived, ‘on the road' turned out to be a mobile critique of each of our position and technique. So one at a time we raced up and down the lakeside road while everyone else rode the car. It was almost one when Sal rode back into the Villa Carlotta car park.
“Well done everyone.” Caro supplied. “Once Sally has got herself sorted we'll go get some lunch then this afternoon we'll look at something specifically for the Helvetia Cup.”
By the time Sal was ready her bike was on the roof and demon Dad was ready to take us to lunch. We only drove as far as Tremezzo to a lakeside eatery where we quickly occupied a table right by the lake, shaded by a huge umbrella thing.
“Everyone okay with pizza?” Dad enquired.
“Sounds good,” Geth allowed.
“As long as it's not too spicy,” Mand cautioned.
There being no other input, when the waiter arrived Dad ordered three pizzas, a quattro stagione, a pollo and a Hawaiian. Soft drinks all round completed our order.
“So what are we doing this afternoon Dad?”
“This afternoon we'll be having a go at the sort of course you'll be riding in Switzerland.”
“I didn't realise there was a test,” Mand admitted .
“We didn't bring those beasties out front just for you to parade up and down the lake,” Caro told us.
Well that makes sense.
“So what's so special about next week?” Geth asked chomping on a breadstick.
“Reasonable question,” Dad started, “they've put it in as stage 4, thirty kilometres of which about twenty are fairly flat before you climb up to the finish at Beatenberg. Whilst the climb is quite twisty and possibly more suited to road bikes we think that using the low pros will be worth a significant advantage on the flatter bits.”
“So everyone else will be on road bikes?” Sal queried.
“On our team, yes,” Caroline agreed, “can't say about the other teams but our guess is that'll be the case.”
The food arrived at that point, three huge pizzas and a goodly sized bowl of salad.
“Well don't just look at it, dig in,” Dad prompted.
Of course the pizzas might be huge but they were paper thin and not exactly fully loaded. A disappointment if you are used to Pizza Hut ® but par for the course if you are used to German pizzerias! Still, there were no complaints and no leftovers, well a bit of salad leaf so I guess it was alright – somehow I managed five slices!
“So are you all clear on that?” Caro asked.
It was pretty straightforward, set off at minute intervals and ride as hard and fast as we can to the finish about twenty kilometres away but up a mountain. Straightforward as time trials go, only one right hand turn and any tricky turns will be on the climb.
“Yep.” Geth agreed.
“Uh huh.” I allowed.
“Okay then, ten minutes warm up then back here to start.”
We were starting back at the car park to get in a bit of extra distance so we rode up past the ferry terminal before returning to the car.
“Ten.” Dad advised.
I'm last to go, scratch man if you like.
“Five, four, three, two, one, go.”
I kicked the bike into life, riding out of the saddle for maybe fifty metres before settling down and assuming my tucked position. By the time I reached our lunch stop I was purring along nicely at just over 40kph and already picking up a bit on my minuteman, Geth. Out of Tremezzo then a slight climb through Bolvedro slowed my tempo a little but it soon picked up again as the road dipped out of Portezza.
Then it was into Lenno with its tourist traffic but I got a pretty clear run through only having to ease off once when a French tour bus unexpectedly stopped in front of me. I was soon back up to speed and once I'd negotiated Sala Comacina the road straightened and I found myself surprisingly close to Sal, Geth having already taken her.
Argegno 4km the sign stated, that's where we turn off. I closed the gap to Sal pretty quickly, Geth still had maybe thirty seconds gap, Mand at a guess was about the same again ahead of him. Through Colonno I sped, a glance ahead made me gulp, Argegno looked like it was built vertically! The turn off was pretty tight being effectively a hairpin and the climbing started immediately.
The road climbed quite steeply, no chance to use the tri bars, as it dodged back and forth up the hillside. I'd gone past Mand at the second hairpin but Geth was still holding me off as we emerged from Argegno's confines onto a flatter section. I got back into the tuck position for a bit before the next tight corner had me back off ; it wasn't really helping that much now. I finally caught Gethin as we entered Dizzasco and in turn was passed by Dad and Caro on the climb into Castaglione d'Intelvi.
More switchbacks in the village had me well down the gears, into San Fedele and there's the car. The last 200m was agonizing but finally it was over, we were still on the up grade so I almost came to a stop immediately. Geth followed me home maybe a minute later but it was five before Mand arrived with Sal just metres behind.
“That was hard,” Mand wheezed.
“Not many.” I agreed still gasping myself despite having been sat on the roadside for several minutes swigging on a bottle, “Here.” I offered her my bidon.
Dad got the bikes stowed and we clambered into the Mercedes. We drove up the village a short way before turning onto a narrower road signposted for Casasco before pulling up where the road afforded a view back down to Argegno and glittering in the afternoon sun, the waters of Lago di Como.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 27.06.13
Chapter *30*
Lezzeno
“Right then, how did you think that went?” Caroline asked once we were settled on the grassy bank.
“You mean apart from Drew destroying us?” Mand smirked.
“You need a different technique for climbing on these things,” Geth supplied.
“Yeah, it's like the rear disk doesn't want to go up hill?” Sal observed.
Caroline and Dad exchanged a look.
“Drew?” Caroline enquired, “Any feed back?”
“Like Geth said, you need to sit and spin but Sal's right, the disk feels like a ton weight, maybe we should use standard wheels or even change bikes before the climb gets going too much.”
“Change bikes? A bit radical, what about losing time with that?” Caro queried.
“I reckon it would balance out in our favour still, the bikes are worth what? 10% on the long flat bit but we'll lose that to a road bike on the climb. So say the road bikes take 40 mins for the flat, we do it in 36, the climb is 30 mins on a road, we lose 10% so we end up a minute in hand. If we change bikes we lose maybe a minute but we finish three minutes up.”
“I'll never tell another dumb blonde joke!” Mand pledged .
“We'll have to see if that's allowed.” Dad noted, “So what if we used spoked wheels?”
“Not as much advantage on the flat, not as much disadvantage on the climb.” I offered.
“Could we just do a wheel change for the climb?” Sal put forward.
“Another option,” Caro allowed.
“Maybe we can fit in another go to check out the impact.” Dad suggested.
“Yeah, we'll collar Chris when we get back,” Caroline agreed.
“We should make a move, it's an hour back to the hotel.” Dad advised.
It was a little more in the end, we got held up with traffic in Lenno which meant we just missed the four fifteen ferry so had to wait close on quarter of an hour for the next crossing. We arrived back in Lezzeno just turned quarter to five, surprisingly the others weren't back yet.
“Same as last night guys, dinner at seven, time's yours till then,” Caro told us.
“Great!” Mand enthused. “Meet back here in fifteen?”
“Back to the beach?” Geth queried.
“Could do, or there's shops and stuff the other way,” Mand suggested.
“Okay.” I agreed.
We split up inside the hotel, each of our rooms being in a different floor or direction.
“It's so hot.” Sal complained.
“The others aren't back yet.” Geth observed.
“Maybe they got detention.” Mand offered skipping down the steps to join us.
“Probably missed their ferry too.” I surmised.
“So where to?” Geth queried.
“The town I guess.” Sal allowed.
“Eve said it's that road across the piazza, where it says ‘localité'.”
“Makes sense.” I allowed given that we knew it wasn't the other direction.
It wasn't far, it's not exactly a big place after all, and the shopping isn't exactly H&M, C&A or Debenhams. No it's definitely local shopping, butcher, baker, bank type stuff with one or two like the stationary store stocking a bit of tourist tat, postcards and so on. I selected several cards to send home and for peeps back in England too, I did promise Gran after all.
The shopping options pretty much exhausted we followed a sign for ‘Di Lago', which brought us to a bustling waterfront. We succumbed to the temptation of the multiple gelato vendors, sitting on the quayside to eat our prizes. The activity out on the lake was mesmerizing, we spent best part of the next hour watching the powerboats, yachts and launches criss-crossing the waters of the Lago di Como.
My guess about the ferry was correct, like us the others had just missed their ferry but unlike us where there was no alternative rather than wait they had taken the autostrada to Lecco and the lake road back to the hotel, the only advantage being that they were moving rather than waiting for the ferry. Tonight's gastronomic delight still managed to avoid the expected pasta – chicken and rice, don't get me wrong, it was nice but well, not very Italian.
“So're we going to the beach?” Laura enquired as we prepared to leave the dining facility.
“Can do.” I allowed.
“I want to ring my mum,” Sal stated.
“I think I'll get an early night,” Claire mentioned, “I'm knackered.”
“Mand?”
“Go on then.”
The others were already inside; Eurosport was showing some kick ball match or other.
“Ow!” I span around to find Laura with a grin on her face. “What was that for?”
‘That' was her snapping my bra strap.
“I knew it, you're a girl!”
“Am not!”
“So how come you're wearing a bra?”
“Dur, same reason as you,” Mand offered in my defence.
“So he is a girl.”
Such logic.
“I am not a girl.” I mentioned through gritted teeth.
“If you aren't a girl why are you wearing a bra, I bet you've got knickers on too.”
I started to colour up.
“Don't be so mean Laura!” Mand shouted. “You don't know anything.”
“I don't know why a girl would pretend to be a boy.”
“I'm not.” I muttered as the first tear dripped down my cheek.
“Now look what you've done!”
“Me? Huh, it's not me trying to fool everyone.” Laura spat.
“Well so what if she is, she's the best rider we've got.” Mand stated.
“Mand!”
“Oops, sorry Drew.”
“I bet your name's not even Drew is it?” Laura pressed.
“‘Tis.” I whispered as the eye hose was turned to lots.
“Laur, now look what you've done.” Manda angrily opined, pulling me into a hug.
I sniffled into Mand's shoulder. I thought we were going to the beach so Laura could meet up with Toni, not for her to lay into me like this. I mean it's not like no one would ever find out but I never expected it to be like this, I thought we were friends.
“So if Drew's a girl how'd ‘she' get on the boys team eh?”
“Her Dad's a coach, I'm sure it'd be easy.”
“Tell her.” I snuffled.
“You sure?”
“What choice?” I observed sniffing through the tears.
“Tell me what?” Laura demanded.
“This goes no further Laur.” Mand stated.
“That depends.” Laura demurred.
“Not good enough, promise.” Manda demanded.
“Okay I promise, so just why is this, this girl pretending to be a boy?”
“You sure about this Drew?” Mand enquired again.
“Just tell her, I'm gonna sit over here.”
There was a seat overlooking the still glittering waters of the lake a few metres along the path, I plonked myself down and did my best to pull myself together. This is it I guess, I'm gonna be exposed as a fraud, everything I've been working for is in ruins. Not just that but Dad'll be dragged into it too, it's not his fault I'm a freak.
I couldn't really hear what Mand was saying but they got quite animated a time or two. I adjusted my bra strap – no it's not some frilly lift and separate number, it's a sports bra right! I thought it was doing a reasonable job of keeping these, these things under control but Laura spotted it and if she has who else has? What do I do now? I'll have to give up racing for sure; I'll never be able to show my face at a race again.
“If this gets out Laura we're all gonna look stupid.” Mand stated.
“I guess you're right, honestly Mand until I saw the bra last night I thought he was gay, I mean he always hangs with us girls, he hardly ever talks with the lads or does stuff with them.”
“So you keeping schtum or what?”
“I guess so.”
“Better tell Drew then. Where is he?”
“On that ben..ch.” Laura's gaze fell on the now vacant seat.
“DREW!” Mand shouted.
“DREW where are you?” Laura joined in.
I hunched down against the rock, so okay running away never solved anything but I want ed to be on my own. I wrapped my arms around my knees, resting my teary face against them. Hmm, I've got my wallet, must be a couple of hundred euros in there, should be enough to get back home, I can always get more out once I'm in Germany. What then? Caro's got my passport and ID card so heading to Gran's is out.
The sun dipped behind the mountains almost instantly turning day into night and causing the temperature to drop. Lights popped up across the lake, even from this distance the lights of Lenno looked entrancing, strings of fairy lights along the lake edge, the church tower floodlit. My tears were all cried out, I sat in silence staring out across the waters.
“Amanda?” Dave Bond enquired cracking the bedroom door open.
“We've lost Drew.” She blurted out, clearly distraught.
“Who's we and what do you mean lost him?”
“Laur and me, we were going to the beach and there was an argument and we've searched everywhere.”
“Wait in reception, let me get some clothes on.”
Now what?
“What's up Mr. Bond?” Josh enquired as Dave quickly pulled trousers and a shirt on.
“Drew, he's gone missing, I need to find him.”
“I'll come too, the daft bugger.”
“So what was this argument about?” Dave asked the two frightened girls.
“Drew being a girl.” Mand allowed.
“Oh shite!” Josh intoned.
Shite indeed Dave agreed, he checked his watch, just turned eleven. Drew, what are you up to?
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 30.06.13
Chapter *31*
Rocky End
“Hallo, Toni.”
“Toni, it's Laura, from England?”
“Allo, is a bit late to meet tonight.”
“Sorry ‘bout that, look I well we need your help.”
“‘Ow can I ‘elp?”
“Well you remember last night, the little blonde?”
“Of course, your friend yes?”
Maybe not after tonight Laura noted to herself, “Uh huh, well she's gone missing, we were wondering if you have any ideas where to look.”
“Maybe, where did you last see her?”
“On the er promenade, we were heading for the beach, we've looked everywhere.”
“Toni, he have idea. Keep your phone on eh, Toni will ring, donna worry Laura, she be okay, I sure.”
Laura closed the connection.
“So?” Mand enquired.
“He thinks he might know somewhere, he'll ring back.”
“If there's no sign soon we'll have to let Chris and the others know and get in the Police.” Dave told his companion as they drove towards Bellagio.
“Aye,” Josh agreed, “you don't think he's done anything daft like?”
Dave didn't even want to think about that possibility. “Other than run off? I hope not.” I really hope not.
“You shoulda go back, they are worried for you.”
“What do I care?” Drew allowed, staring out over the water.
“You are hurt, is understandable.” His companion allowed.
“I thought she was my friend.”
The two of them had been sat out here for best part of two hours, Drew hadn't been here for ten minutes before Toni, having seen him scrambling along the lakeside and sensing there was something wrong, arrived and sank down beside him.
“I'm a sure she regret the saying,” Toni suggested.
To be truthful Toni wasn't sure he completely understood what had gone off, as far as he could see, it was something about Laura seeing Drew's bra and calling her on it. Girls, always making the storm in the teapot.
“Is a getting cold.”
“Bit.” Drew agreed with a shiver.
“We go back, eh? Things a look better in a the morning yes?”
“You're probably right.”
“Toni, he a know this is so.”
“Mand?” Josh queried.
“We've found him!”
“Thank the….! Is he okay like?”
“I think so, is Mr Bond there?”
“He's in the ferry office, I'd best let him know.”
“See you when you get back.”
“Aye hen, bout twenty minutes.”
It was more a little after twelve when a relieved Dave Bond found the girls, Drew and a lad he didn't know wordlessly waiting outside of the Hotel Como.
“Why are you stood out here?”
“The um doors locked Mr Bond,” Mand supplied.
‘Bugger' Dave thought, ‘someone else will have to know about this.' He pulled out his phone and dialled up Caroline.
It rang a couple of times before she picked up.
“Lo?”
“Caro, it's Dave.”
“Dave? Wassup?”
“Could you let us in?”
“Jen'd never talk to me again,” she drowsily offered.
“Not your room, the hotel, we've got locked out.”
“Locked out? We?”
“Look, I'll explain when we're inside.”
“Give me a minute.” Caro suggested.
“Cheers.” Dave ended the call, “She'll be down in a minute.” He advised the now shivering teens.
“I go now ok, you take a care Drew.”
“Thanks Toni.” I squeezed his hand, the hand I'd been gripping for the last forty minutes.
“Maybe we see later eh? Ciao Bella.”
Caro opening the hotel's front door diverted my attention, when I turned back he was gone.
“Ciao Toni.”
“Ahm gonna hit the sack like.” Josh noted.
“Thanks Josh, I'll be up shortly.” Dave supplied.
“Night guys.”
“Night Josh.” Drew replied.
“So,” Caro demanded, “what's all this about?”
“You three, sit.” Dave ordered.
Laura sat at one end of the sofa, Mand and Drew the other.
“I'm guessing there's some sort of issue between Laura and the others?” Caro suggested.
“Sort of, from what I can gather when they were at the beach on Sunday Laura noticed Drew's er undershirt, put two and two together and came up with five.”
“Oh.” Caro observed.
“Oh indeed. To compound matters she then blundered into making accusations when the three of them went for a walk after dinner. Drew, at some point after Mand started explaining stuff disappeared.”
“What time was this?”
“As I understand things, about half eight.”
“So I take it you only found him just before you woke me?”
“He turned up about thirty minutes ago.”
“You should've spoken to me earlier.” Caro admonished.
“The girls only told me he was missing about eleven, I went up to Bellagio with Josh to check he hadn't got on a ferry, I was about to call you when he turned up.”
“Hmm. So what do we do with these three? I'll have to tell Chris something.”
“That's your call, I'm in an awkward position here.” Dave admitted.
“We're not gonna sort anything out tonight, let's get these three to bed.”
The adults walked over to where the teens sat nervously waiting.
“Okay we clearly need to get this sorted out but everyone's tired now so we'll do it in the morning. Off to bed, I think you all need a good night's sleep.”
Dismissed, they headed up to their respective beds.
“How do you want to handle this Dave, he is your son after all.”
“More like daughter Caro, this was supposed to be his big chance to prove that he is male but the house of cards is starting to collapse. It might be best if I take him home, I don't want to cause BC any embarrassment.”
“Don't you dare David Bond!” Caroline stated with some vim, “We knew the score before we came out, we've been as blinkered to the potential consequences as anyone. We can work something out, I've no idea what and I'm too tired to think now but taking Drew out will just fan the flames.”
“You're right, you always are.”
“Not always. Come on, I need my bed even if you don't.”
Up in the attic Drew stripped off and got ready for bed. Sleep however was far from his mind, no his mind was full of what ifs and maybe's. What if he had headed for Germany, was that even realistic? He hadn't even seen a railway station since they arrived in Italy and wouldn't the police be looking for him? As for anything more drastic, he didn't have the courage for that, he'd briefly thought of wading out into the lake but Toni had turned up and well, offered a shoulder.
He stared at the ceiling, not so unusual lately, no it's this stupid body – if he was meant to be a girl why wasn't he just born one, why did he have to be a boy for fifteen years first? It just isn't fair. And his current, what did the doc call it? Oh yeah, hermaphroditism – is that even a word, well it sucks big style.
“Laura, Drew, can I have a word please.” Chris suggested after breakfast.
With some reluctance they both followed the boss out into reception.
“In here please.” He ushered them into what seemed to be Giovanni's office, “Take a seat.”
He let them settle down before continuing.
“I've been talking to your coaches and we are all in agreement on this.”
This was it, the moment when they'd both be booted off the squad, Drew tried to keep a stiff upper lip but the tears were already starting to well up in Laura's eyes.
“You've both shown considerable skills not just on the bike but people skills, you get on well with the rest of the squad and they in turn look to the both of you for advice and leadership.”
‘He really is making this hard,' Drew thought to himself, ‘why can't he just get on and tell us?'
“So with that in mind...”
Here it comes.
“…We're making you pair team captains for the girls and lads squads, not just for Switzerland but Roskilde too.”
“Team captains?” I queried.
“Yep, you'll be the ones in charge out on the road, calling the shots, working towards a team win. Obviously in Switzerland you'll all be riding together so I expect the pair of you to co-ordinate our efforts. Steve will take on the position of lads coach, Caroline will be your coach Laura.”
“But…” Laura started.
“No buts, decisions made.” Chris stated.
“Um thanks. I think.” I offered.
“Which brings me to another little issue concerning you two.”
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 03.07.13
Chapter *32*
An Understanding
Well it was never going to be ignored was it? Stunned already by the team captain announcement we both remained mute.
“I'll not beat around the bush, I understand Laura that you are now au fait with Drew's position?”
“Kind of, Mand told me about the gym thing making him grow boo I mean breasts and that like he often gets taken for a girl because of it. Look , Drew, I'm really sorry about what I said, I saw your bra when you were mucking about on the beach and jumped to conclusions. Can you forgive me, please?”
“I guess I kind of over reacted a bit too,” I admitted, “and running off wasn't exactly helpful either.”
“You had us worried sick,” Laura put in.
“Sorry, can we call it quits?”
“Fine by me.”
I can live with her knowing a half-truth for now.
“That's alright as far as it goes, what I don't want is any kind of a repeat with anyone else on the team.” Chris stated firmly .
“I guess.” I agreed.
“So, Drew, what I'm proposing, but it's your call, is that we scotch any further rumours by telling the rest of the team; at least we can deal with things more openly then. Have a think about it, talk with your dad but I'd like to sort this ASAP.”
It seems pretty logical, not that logic has much to do with things and some explanation now might well smooth things a bit in the future. It's my call, I realised last night, sat by the lake with Toni's arm around my shoulders, watching the activity on the lake that I need to face up to things. Nature has dealt me a difficult hand but it's not impossible to win out with it; I just need to grasp my opportunities.
“Okay, let's do it ; it's causing a distraction for everyone.”
“You sure?” Chris confirmed.
“Yep, we've got some races to win and I don't want my bra to get in the way.” I stated.
“Don't you mean your boobs?” Laura put forward.
“What I said, I've used it a time or two in races back home as a team tactic.”
“You mean you…?”
“Hey, if they want to believe I'm something I'm not that's their call.”
“Drew Bond, you minx!”
I tried to look innocent.
“I need to talk to your coaches and your dad Drew but I think we should do this before today's session, okay?” Chris suggested.
Before I change my mind.
“'Kay.”
“Alrighty, you two go get ready to ride, I'll speak to those I need to and we'll get this cleared up.”
In the seclusion of my room I had a chance to reflect on my decision, maybe I should've run last night!
We all assembled in the by now empty dining room, Dad gave me a wink; I caught Caro smiling at me.
“People!” Chris vied for the room's attention.
We quieted down, me a little anxiously I have to admit.
“Now I have everyone's attention, we've a couple of announcements to make before we hit the roads. Firstly would Drew and Laura come up here please?”
Given we were only a couple of metres away we were soon next to Chris facing our teammates.
“These two will be the respective team captains for our World Championship junior road campaign starting from this morning.”
Of course that got some reaction, Chris waited until the congratulations and cat calling died down before continuing.
“We'll be explaining how that works during the day but essentially they will be the ones calling the shots out on the road after discussing each day's tactics with the coaching team. I hope you will all respect their requests out on the road and act accordingly.”
Mark didn't look too happy, nor for that matter did Manda, worth knowing that not everyone would necessarily toe the party line.
“The second item isn't mine to tell but I hope you'll listen and not over react. If you have issues with what you hear you come to me, Steve or Caroline understand?”
There was a round of murmured agreement.
“Okay Drew, the floor is yours.”
Laura returned to where the rest were sat and Chris withdrew leaving me nervously facing everyone on my own. I can still make a break for it, the door's open.
“Hey!” I filled, “This isn't easy for me and some of you might have issues with what I'm gonna say too, all I ask is that you hear me out. Some of you already know about what I'm gonna say, sorry for boring you guys.”
I looked at Josh who cocked an eyebrow. I gave a nod that received a similar response.
“Spit it out,” Mark prompted.
“Here goes then, I've got a medical condition which means I've now got er breasts. It's nothing catching and I'm getting treated but I do need to wear a bra, well a sports bra to stop them er jiggling.” I rushed out barely drawing breath.
“Breasts?” Jamie queried.
“Yeah, kind of like a girl's.” I confirmed. Well exactly like a girl's, actually.
“There's a kid at school got tits, some hormone thingy,” Darren mentioned.
“Yeah, hormones.” I agreed.
“So you wear bra's?” Sal queried.
“Like I said, I need to wear something to stop them er bouncing about.”
“What size are they?” Geth asked straight out.
“Geth!” Laura sanctioned.
“Was only asking.”
“Too big.” I allowed.
There were clearly, by the looks on some faces, other questions but Geth had pre empted some.
“Look guys, I've told you this not so we can discuss the size of my chest but so it doesn't get in the way of our riding. It's not exactly a secret but I'd prefer if you didn't spread it about. It doesn't change how I ride,” much! “And I don't want it to change how we are together.”
“You done Drew?” Chris asked.
“Think so.”
“So people, you all know Drew's situation, I hope you will all be discreet with this information, I don't expect to hear about it from anyone outside of this room, am I understood?”
A collection of yays, nods and other forms of confirmation came from my teamies.
“In that case, out front with your bikes in ten minutes.”
With that we were dismissed.
Dad found me out as I put my road shoes on.
“Well done kiddo.”
“Damage limitation?”
“Smoke and mirrors,” Dad agreed.
“It was the right thing, wasn't it?”
“It was a brave thing to do, at least with some degree of truth out there it's easier to control. I did talk to Chris about this on the way down; I have to admit that I was against letting more people know about this stuff. Congrats on the captaincy by the way, just remember what happened with Roni eh?”
How could I forget, I lost it big style because she didn't let me win. It'll be different this time; I won't play the prima donna.
“Yes Dad.”
“Today should suit you kiddo, bit of climbing.”
Goody – despite what some think my prowess at gaining altitude doesn't mean that I have to like it all the time.
Once again we made our way to Bellagio to catch a ferry, today across to Menaggio as today we are headed for Dongo (yeah, what I thought too) so we can practice some climbing and descending. The day was promising to be another scorcher, a light breeze across the waters of Lago di Como keeping things on the right side of comfortable.
This morning's meetings certainly delayed our departure from Lezzeno a good chunk but by the time we crossed the water and disembarked it was still only quarter to eleven. The northbound road was fairly busy, the Merc and the team bus ran interference with the other traffic, to be honest I was glad to reach Dongo and turn off towards our training circuit. We climbed up out of the town not stopping until we were above the town, even that kilometre causing issues for some of our number.
Steve called for our attention.
“Alrighty, today we are going to concentrate on getting you all safely up and down the mountains. This isn't about racing up as quick as you can but rather it's trying to keep you in contention without killing yourselves. What goes up generally comes down so we'll be looking at how we can descend quicker but safely – fast doesn't always mean you have the advantage.”
And so we started a couple of hours of climbing the hairpins through Stazzona and thence up to Garzeno before descending back to Dongo down the other side of the valley. Each circuit was about seven kilometres and after the first when we all rode together, we were split into smaller groups. It was heading towards two before our tormentors called a halt to the merry go round for lunch.
Unlike yesterday's restaurant stop, today we had a buffet served from the back of the bus, assorted pasta, salad, cold meats and fruit supplied by the hotel. Simple, easy to eat and just as importantly, digest. I loaded my plate and found a spot to sit on the wall overlooking Dongo and beyond, Lake Como.
A body sat beside me and made itself comfortable.
“It was you wasn't it?” Claire suggested.
“Eh?” no one had mentioned my announcement all morning but it looked like Claire was keen to talk.
“The dance last week, I thought it was odd you didn't go, you were pretty enthusiastic before hand. And then that girl Jess turns up with this other girl no one knew.”
“I might have tits, it doesn't mean I have to dress up in girl's clothes.”
I checked to see who else was within earshot, no one apparently.
“I guess it's not compulsory,” she allowed, “it was you though, wasn't it?”
How do I get out of this? She's convinced it was me at the dance, if I deny it she'll no doubt get the others involved – think Drew!
“If I say yes will you let it go?” I asked with more hope than expectation.
“I knew it!” she loudly announced.
“Everything okay over there?” Caro queried.
“Um yeah, just talking about the climb,” I fudged.
Caro didn't look convinced.
“I said to Sal that she looked like you, maybe your evil big boobed twin.”
“If this goes further, I'll be the evil twin,” I promised.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 06.07.13
Chapter *33*
La Romantica Como
“You do make a cute girl Drew.”
“So I'm told.” I allowed with a sigh.
“So do you do it often, dress up that is?”
Of course, at home I've got a full girly wardrobe, I even go to school as a girl.
“I got tricked for the dance right, lost a bet, I don't do it for fun.”
Nope just to survive day to day.
“Pity, she's good fun, your twin, bit of a ditz mind.”
So I'm blond, okay?
“Okay then, let's get you back on the bikes.” Caroline suggested thirty minutes later.
I was feeling quite rested now, Jemma has been at my calves again, not that I'm the only one getting her attention, far from it. I did a few leg stretches before mounting up, can't be too careful. This time we set off on our own, not timed but at about thirty-second intervals, climbing on your own is different to doing it with others you have to set your own pace for starters.
Muggins started on pole, I think to make sure the others had a chance of a fair crack at the job. There might not be a prize but I've got my pride, I took off like a scalded cat only settling down once I was through the first hairpin. The ride up went fine, steady cadence, relaxed on the top of the bars only reaching for the hoods on the couple of steeper sections.
Through the valley and up into Catasco to start the descent, as soon as the road tilted downwards I ramped the gears up. Which was where things went a bit er tits up ward. The first hairpin was barely 300m away and I'm accelerating, something had to give and it was my tyres tenuous grip on the gravely road surface.
Too late I realised that I was going too fast, I was committed to attempting the manoeuvre but certain I'd fail. I so nearly made it but just when I thought I had I lost the front wheel, going down on my right side and sliding across the fortunately , car free road , com ing to a halt with a thump against the low wall that separated me from a drop onto the road , some twenty metres below. A quick check revealed no apparent breakages of limbs so after a quick evaluation of the bike I set off once more , much more cautiously .
Clear of the bends , I picked the pace back up, my shoulder and hip felt like I' d got sunburn – as if. Much slower through the last pair of hairpins then down into Dongo and team HQ. What I hadn't taken on board was that they'd know about my little tarmac loving before I got there.
“I was just coming up to get you,” Dad stated as I pulled to a halt.
“Get me?”
“You came off right?”
“Er yeah.” I admitted.
“A local chap saw you at the side of the road and came and told us,” Jemma added.
“Slipped on a bend,” I told them.
“ Let's have a look then?” Jem requested.
Dad took control of my steed and Jemma of me.
“That's gotta sting,” Josh mentioned a few minutes later.
“He's been lucky, not too much grit, mostly friction burns.” Jemma supplied.
“Lovely.” I observed.
I hadn't really given it much thought when she relieved me of my slightly tattered jersey to tend to my shoulder. By now everyone else was back, sans mishap so I was centre of attention.
“That leg looks nasty,” Mand opined.
“Just a bit of a scrape.”
“He'll be fine in a few days.” Jemma predicted.
“Snap!” Sal exclaimed .
“Eh?”
“You wear the same bras as me.” She grinned.
Can things get any worse?
“Okay people,” Chris mentioned to get our attention, “due to Mr Bond's little mishap we'll cut the session here. Once we get back, we've a little treat for you so I'd like everyone out front of the hotel looking smart for six thirty please. Drew, you're riding the bus back, everyone else, five minutes.”
I can't say that I was sorry not to be riding back, besides which I think I've done something to my gears when I kissed the tarmac. Jemma lent me a top so I wasn't travelling in just bra and torn bib shorts ; not that it bothered me now things are a bit more out in the open. No, it was more to continue some pretence on the squad that I'm a lad with some unwanted extras.
I knocked on Dad and Josh's door.
“‘S'open.” Dad advised.
I pushed it open and stepped inside.
“What's up kiddo, why aren't you ready?”
“I'm gonna have to miss it, I can't get my trousers on with the dressing, if I take it off I'll probably bleed everywhere.”
“You moaning again man?” Josh queried joining us from the bathroom.
“Trousers, leg.” I stated.
“Why not go like that?” he suggested.
I looked down, “I am not going to eat with a towel wrapped around me.”
“I don't think that's what Josh meant.” Dad observed.
“What I meant like was wear a skirt.”
“You have got to be joking!”
“No, serious like, I'm shoo-er one of the girls could lend you one like, it wouldn't be tight on your leg, job sorted.”
“So this morning I spring my boobs on them, tonight I turn up in a skirt. No way José!”
So of course it wasn't even a plain skirt, oh no, when I joined the others on the veranda I was wearing a knee length floral number albeit with a plain white t-shirt. Apparently the only plain ones any of the girls had were tight and no better than trousers for my battered hip. I could hardly wear this girly girly skirt and even think I looked remotely boy so of course Mand had an ‘idea' and so here I am masquerading as a girl again.
“I wouldn't've believed it.” Mark had observed when I made my way out.
“Me either.” I sighed in resignation.
“Well I think he looks cute.” Claire put in.
“Miss Bond?” Chris enquired when he spotted me.
“Er yes sir, look I can just stay here, this wasn't my idea, I don't mind.” I jabbered.
“Your dad did warn me, can't say it's the solution I might have thought of but I guess it works.”
“We are a all a ready, no?” Giovanni suggested as he joined us outside of the hotel.
“I think so,” Chris allowed.
“So we go then, come.”
Our host led the way first heading towards the town centre before turning us down a gennel, which popped us out on the waterfront. Have I really put a skirt on just to have dinner a few metres from the hotel? However we continued past the restaurants and so on for another fifty metres before we came to a halt.
“She 's a beautiful no?” Giovanni offered.
‘She' when I looked over the quayside, was a fairly vintage looking motor launch.
“Come, come, is a plenty * room.”
Well this is different. Of course the lads just clambered aboard but Giovanni insisted on helping all of ‘us' girls including Jemma and Caroline who surprisingly was wearing a nice frock. Don't get me wrong, I'm not bitching but I think I've seen her in a dress like once before and that was for some fancy dinner she and Mum went to years back.
The boat's engine spluttered to life and soon we were heading out across the waters of Lago di Como.
“Where're we going like?” Josh enquired of no one in particular.
“We go to the restaurant of my wife's brother Luigi in a Sala Comancina, he make a you special meal.” Giovanni supplied.
“My money's on spaghetti.” Geth whispered.
“As long as it's not pizza,” Sal opined, “that stuff we had yesterday was like cardboard.”
That's what happens when you export cheese on toast around the world, some like it crispy, others want extra topping; only the name stays the same.
Of course Mand was alright about my sudden sex change, she has after all seen Gaby before but the other girls were clearly not quite so at ease with it. The guys, after a few crass remarks, seemed much more at ease with the whole idea, Josh of course has seen ‘her' before but I was surprised by the others.
The tiny launch chugged out across the lake affording us views along the lake and of Mount Calbiga up above our destination. By the time the distant shore was no longer distant I'd pretty much forgotten about my current attire and I guess as it wasn't mentioned, so had my companions.
“Come on girls, stop dilly dallying.” Steve prompted after we disembarked.
“Drew lost a shoe.” Sal advised.
“Found it?” Steve queried.
“Er yeah, the heel got stuck.” Oh I didn't mention that did I? No one could find any spare shoes could they; apart that is from a pair of one size too big strappy sandals with a five-centimetre heel. Grrr!
“Well come on then, don't want to miss the food,” he chivvied.
Too right, I've not dressed like this to then miss the main event!
La Romantica Como is located maybe twenty metres from the landing stage that Giovanni had landed us at, twenty metres up a set of steps from the lakeside to the already busy restaurant garden.
“Hey Luigi!” Giovanni called out from above.
“Giovanni!”
I'd love to tell you what they said but like my Italian doesn't go much beyond ‘Prego!' whatever, we were herded to a corner where seating for seventeen was accomplished via two tables for six and a third for five. It must be some sort of herd instinct as the lads distributed themselves across two tables, the girls homing in on the other taking me with them. When the dust settled Jemma had joined us as we were on one of the six place tables.
“This is all a bit posh,” Laura noted as she checked out the silverware.
“There probably won't be much chance later, so make the most of it.” Jemma suggested.
“Did we need to dress up?” Sal moaned.
“Not essential,” Jem allowed, “but think of it as a team building exercise, not just the riders but the coaches, mechanics even li'l ole me.”
“Wish I'd known, I'd have brought something better than this.” Claire observed.
“We know now, so we can be prepared next time.” Mand stated.
“You're not saying much Drew,” Jemma observed .
“Just hungry really and like my side and shoulder hurt a bit.”
“You certainly did a number on them.”
“If it's worth doing…” I allowed.
“Even if it means you have to get girlied up?” she questioned.
It's not that I wanted to crash, is it?
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 08.07.13
Chapter *34*
Tested Out
What we actually got to eat was certainly not spaghetti! No indeedy we ended up with like five courses if you include the coffee. After a typical bean salad to start we had the local version of schnitzel, they call it Coteletta alla Milanese (I looked it all up when we got back), it's maybe a little thicker than I'm used to and eaten on its own. Lubrication, at least for the riders, was grape juice; there was minimally one bottle of wine going around the adults.
That was followed by Risotto alla Milanese , there's a pattern here, think of your standard risotto but a brighter colour, proper meat and much tastier. As it was ‘help yourself' for the risotto I had a good plateful, perhaps a little too much. By now the light was going, the lights strung through the vines and trestles supplying our illumination. From where I was sat the distant lights of Lezzeno twinkled at me much as those on this shore had last night.
We finished off with a slice of Panettone , lightly toasted and served with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. This obviously wasn't from one of those horrendous boxed things they have in Lidl but made here at the restaurant. As usual, the coffee was a tiny cup, not exactly a double latte but it finished things off nicely.
Tonight was after all about relaxing, forgetting about bikes for a couple of hours, recharging the batteries so to speak.
Chris stood and gained our attention by tapping his glass with a fork.
“Okay , ladies and gentlemen, much as I'd love to do this every night from now on we need to focus on the reason we are here , namely , to race bicycles. We have one more day here at Lake Como then , on Thursday , we'll be travelling up to our hotel in Lucerne ready for the Helvetia Cup on Saturday.
We've seen today how easy it is to get injured. I don't want to see any more injuries; sometimes we don't have any say in these things but know your limitations. That's what this training camp has been for, to push you all to be better but at the same time safer riders. I'm sure Messrs Cavendish and Bond can regale you with stories of dodgy sprints but I'm sure they'd both agree that they'd rather it was a straight out dash for the line.
The Cup is a big event; there will be a lot of national teams taking part as well as some very good team entries. This is the real McCoy , ladies and gents, service, feeds, crowds – the works. Up until now most of you have only raced domestically, we are dropping you in at the deep end, Drew, Mark and Josh are your lifeboats. Hopefully everything we've done over the last few weeks has had some impact, but it's going to be brutal out there.
Your Captains will have a game plan, so I'll reiterate what I said this morning, please listen to them. We are not expecting to win, it'd be nice but we're realistic, I think, no I know , we can do well on the time trial stage. If our sprinters are in at the last shout and we have two of the best sat here tonight , who knows what will be possible on the road .
The main thing this week is about experience, experience of the racing, the riders and the atmosphere that we can take forward not just to Roskilde but the years ahead. My boss has great plans, we will have a British professional Champion on the road again, we will have a British Tour de France winner, and if he believes it I do to o . You guys, and girls, are part of that. Who knows, we might be talking about young Mr Cavendish winning on the Champs Elyseé or Miss de Vreen pulling on the rainbow jersey.
That's the PR done with, tomorrow, Coach Bond has asked that the TT riders have another session in the morning so the four of you need to be ready to go at eight thirty in the morning. Rest of you, nine thirty.”
Geez, some speech!
It was fully dark by the time we made our way back down to our transport that, like the restaurant above, was illuminated by strings of light bulbs. We set off into the dark; I hope Giovanni knows where he's headed. The put, put, put of the launches engine had a soporific effect on me; I was soon nodding off, my head on the nearest shoulder.
“Drew man, wake up like.” Josh urged .
“Hmmm?”
“We're nearly back like.”
“Back?” not been anywhere.
“Aye, at Lezzeno?”
“Lezano?”
“Lezzeno man, where the hotel is?”
“Hmm, hotel,” I cracked an eye, “dark.”
“Yer facing ma shoulder dumbo.”
Another brief eye opening confirmed that, “Where?”
A change of engine tone finally did what Josh had failed to do and I jerked fully awake to find us less than a decent sprint from the shore and lights of Lezzeno's waterfront. It took a moment for my head to compute how I was seeing that. I clearly wasn't the only drowsy passenger as around me people were stretching and stifling yawns.
The launch nudged against the landing stage, Giovanni shouted to someone I couldn't see up on the quayside, a moment later a dark shape arrived and proceeded to do the boat tying up business.
“Please a be careful on the a landing, the boy, he will a help.” Giovanni told us.
Josh and I were the last to disembark, of course the big lummox instead of just stepping off the boat managed to push down hard which meant that my precarious one foot on the gunwale became even more so as I was pitched forward off the boat.
“Whoa!”
Instead of the expected clash with the landing stage stonework my forward motion was arrested by a pair of hands grabbing me before returning me to a more vertical position. I know those hands.
“Toni?”
“Ah the beeootiful Drew, you are a okay?”
I blushed a little, “Er yeah fine, how come you're here?”
“My uncle, he a ring, he say , Toni, you a come help weeth the boat.”
“Giovanni's your uncle?”
“My mother's brother.”
“Toni, what a you do?” Giovanni queried from the launch.
“Drew, she a fall from the boat, I a save her.”
“Bond, you coming Man?” Josh called down.
“I um, best go.” I suggested.
“Your a friend, hee lacks the patience.” Toni observed.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “maybe see you at the beach after dinner tomorrow?”
“This I would like.”
“Er well um, ciao.”
“Ciao, Bella!”
What the hell am I doing? I've pretty much made a date to meet up with a boy!
“There y'ar like, ah thought yud fallen in like.” Josh mentioned, not that he'd come back to check.
“No thanks to you I didn't.” I huffed.
“What'd I do?”
What's the point?
“Nothing,” I sighed, “nothing.”
I didn't have the most comfortable night, it was warm, my wounds hurt and I couldn't get to sleep, when I did it was to dream about Toni. Uuurgh! Morning of course came far too early, not only that but we've got the extra time trialling session this morning too, deep joy.
The others at least looked better than I felt at breakfast, a meal I ate more out of necessity than desire this morning. Of course Jemma had to inspect and redress my wounds, they look far worse this morning with some bruising behind them. I hate the smell of TCP and now I smell like I've been bathing in the stuff, talk about bleh.
“You ready Drew?” Dad enquired.
“Guess so.”
“Come on then, Chris has only given us a couple of hours.”
Instead of just a car load this morning, Darren & Mike joined us with the truck as we'll be playing around with wheels and stuff. Caro hitched a ride with the guys, which at least meant I got a proper seat in ‘our' car today. We retraced Monday's outward journey, up to Bellagio then the ferry to Griante before using the Villa Carlotta parking area.
The mechs soon had the mobile workshop set up so while they prepped the bikes Dad sat us in some shade to explain what we were going to do.
“Okay everyone, we've got a lot to do and not much time. We've got your time data from Monday but we need a comparison on standard road bikes, they'll have tri bars but that's all. So first off all four of you ride from here to San Fedele to get that base time.
We'll come back down then we'll do some variant testing, different bike and wheel combos. So road bike with disk, tt bike with standard wheels and so on, you won't all do everything, we've not time, it's gonna be tight as it is.
Everyone happy?”
“So how will we know what works?” Mand asked.
“That's where my laptop comes in,” Caroline stated. “We'll take a time check at the bottom of the climb, so once I've put in the results we can do a few calculations and hopefully make some sense of it.”
“I probably don't need to say,” Dad continued, “but we need a 100% effort if the results are to mean anything.”
A road bike with tri bars is completely different to ride to the testing machines, you are sat higher and the position is more stretched. That said, after the first kilo I'd slipped into a good cadence and could concentrate on my effort. Caro was waiting with her stopwatch at the foot of the climb in Argegno, which I swept round onto before attacking the climb.
Much like Monday I attacked the lower, steeper slopes then was on and off the tri bars up through Dizzasco only succumbing to the hoods at Castiglione for the final hairpin strewn kilometres or so. It felt better today but is that the bike or is that me? The others arrived in reasonably short order; I took over as timekeeper while Dad loaded the bikes straight on the car.
Guess who had to give up his seat on the way back so Caroline could ride back? Well who else, still the ride back to Griante didn't take long although the first round had taken an hour in all. We scored some extra recovery time before the second run as the grease monkeys had some wheel changing and so on to do.
“How's the side?” Sal asked as we sprawled in the shade.
“Not too bad as long as I don't touch it.”
“Did you see where we went last night?” Geth enquired.
“Too busy riding.” I observed.
“Was a right meal that.” He continued .
“Certainly different.” Mand allowed.
“Yeah.” I agreed absently.
“You certainly stuffed plenty in those hollow legs.” She added.
“That skirt looked well cute on you,” Sal announced.
That got a snort from Geth and a chuckle from Mand.
“I'd rather forget what I was wearing.” I grumped.
Further discussion was avoided with a shout from Dad.
“Time to hustle people!”
We returned to a motley collection of steeds, well okay there were only actually two set ups, Geth and Sal's standard road bikes now sported aero wheels, Geth's had a disc while Sal had a deep carbon rimmed affair. Mand and I had drawn the lo pro's so I got the matching wheels to Sal and Mand had standard spoked wheels – I hope Caroline's number crunching can make some sense of all this.
“You guys ready?” Dad asked.
“About as ready as we're gonna be.” I re plied.
“Okay then, we'll run reverse order this time, Gethin, you're first up.”
Ooo goody, something to chase!
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 09.07.13
Chapter *35*
Costone
I waited patiently for my turn, Dad having instructed Mike and Darren to set us off at two-minute intervals before whizzing off with Caro.
“Ready , Drew?” Darren asked.
“Oh yeah!” I enthused.
I thought the two minute gaps were a bit unsporting of Dad, I mean there's no way I'll take Geth for six minutes and over this distance four minutes out of Manda won't be easy. However two minutes to Sal should be relatively easy – he says.
“Thirty.” Mike supplied.
I settled myself on the bike, confirmed my shoes were engaged and started some long deep breaths.
“Fifteen.”
A final check.
“Ten.”
Release the brakes.
“Five, four, three, two, one, go.”
We've done this before right? At ‘go' I leave the start like a scalded cat, sprint out of the saddle up to race speed before settling down into a racing tuck. Caroline wanted me to try a slightly different, energy saving approach – a shorter sprint then finish the acceleration once I'm on the tri bars. Sounds good in theory and this is my one go to try it before the Swiss event.
I'd mentally picked the sit down point so at ‘go' I made my usual effort, in what seemed like two pedal revs I reached sit down and the serious work began. Instead of immediately hitting the higher gears I kept revving a lower gear to build up the speed only changing up as I started to over rev. I was already halfway through Tremezzo before I really turned my attention from speed to destination.
Without the familiar rumble of the rear disk wheel the bike was strangely quiet, I could hear the tyres ‘singing' counterpoint to my breathing. I got my first sighting of Sal as I came out of Mezzegra; she was still a considerable way ahead going into Lenno. I snicked up another gear, come to daddy little one, heh, heh, heh!
It was still early enough that the tourists weren't out in any numbers so apart from dodging around a left turning car I got a clear run through the town. Then it was through Ossuccio, down to the waterfront and into Sala Comacina where we had dinner last night. No time for sightseeing today though. I got a glimpse of Sal as the road kinked left, I'm definitely closing the gap – and quite quickly too.
Over the bump in Colonno then its pretty much flat and straight to the Argegno turn. From two minutes at the start I reckon the gap between us was down to about thirty seconds and dropping. Into the town and I was close enough to see Sal preparing to make the turn, it's almost a hairpin so she was giving herself plenty of room.
She zapped right then I needed to set myself up, run wide, drop a gear, dab the brakes then turn! Out of the saddle into the climb, hang on, where's Sal gone? Off the tri bars now, keep it steady around the next hairpin then back into the tuck for the lesser gradient towards turn three.
There she is, going into the next corner, I was now maybe 100 metres behind but whoosh, she accelerated through the corner and disappeared. I ran wide again as it's a right-hander and repeated my actions from the previous corner. Sal might be quicker through these turns but I've got the straights pinned so that I was maybe only fifty metres back at the next turn.
Sal zipped around on her road bike; I'm sure my steed is climbing easier than Monday but compared to the road bike it's shite. I must have lost about thirty metres on that turn but the road climbs more steadily for a while, well apart from the blip at Cavrono. I was pretty much on her wheel by that point, I lost a few metres but less ground than on the previous turns.
I finally took her on the twisty ascent to Dizzasco but by now I'd pretty much given up on the tri bars. It's not a huge distance to the top now, maybe five K but there's barely any let up. Out of the village and, no it can't be but yes it is, Mand was labouring up towards Castiglione less than a kilometre ahead.
Mand disappeared from view as she entered the next village but I was climbing easily with quite a high cadence. I'm sure these wheels are working better on the climb, it certainly doesn't feel so heavy coming up here as on Monday. Then I was in the village myself, there was little chance to see up the road but I felt sure I was gaining nicely.
Six more hairpin bends and a final effort through San Fedele to the finish. I was around the second of the first pair before I spotted Manda again, fighting her bike for every metre. Although the gap was closing quickly we were through the next set of bends before I connected.
“Not,” gasp, “far.” I suggested as I more crept than swept past my friend.
The final hairpins took us up into San Fedele Intelvi; I had a final go on the tri bars but quickly gave up as I could feel my speed dropping away. Not far, keep it going Drew; there's the car, yay! One final effort and bleh, done. Mand lost best part of a minute to me from being caught, enough that Sal was only about thirty seconds from catching her.
“Good effort everyone,” Dad smiled, “we're meeting the others down in Laino so follow the truck down and we'll sort bikes out there.”
If lo pro's are bad at climbing, they are terrible at technical descents so the two kilometres down to Laino and our rendezvous point were slow. There aren't any hairpins but enough tight and narrow turns to keep Mand and I on the brakes most of the way. When we arrived in the village square it was to find the rest of the squad relaxing in as much shade as they could find.
“‘S alright for some.” I suggested coasting to a halt.
“We've had a right ride to get here man.” Josh defended.
“Yeah,” Laura added, “we didn't get a jolly in the car.”
“Some jolly,” Geth observed, “we've climbed the mountain twice already this morning.”
Before things could get too embroiled Chris interrupted.
“Okay folks, while the mechs are sorting out the bikes we might as well grab some food, this afternoon will be a toughie.”
“As if this morning wasn't,” Mark suggested.
“Aye, that first from the lake was a right humdinger.” Jamie agreed as we queued for our snap.
The food that Jemma distributed was another Hotel Como pack up supplemented with an energy bar and a can of cola.
“So what're we doing this afternoon?” I enquired.
“Steve mentioned something about a circuit around some mountain.” Darren offered.
“Not more climbing?” Mand complained.
“I reckon Drew's safest going up.” Claire mentioned.
“P'rhaps we should get him one of those step thru's for the downhill's.” Sal teased .
“For why?” I asked.
“So you can wear your skirt of course,” she retorted.
“That's a bit mean.” Mand remonstrated.
“Bit below the belt like,” Josh agreed.
“Well I think he looked cute last night,” Laura put in.
“I am here you know.” I reminded them.
“It was only a joke,” Sal blushed.
“No a very good one hen.” Jamie observed.
“It wouldn't work anyhow,” I noted, “you can't get 'em with decent brakes.”
“How'd you know that?” Mark queried.
“My friends at school are always complaining about them.” I filled.
“They ride to school?” Claire enquired.
“Most kids do.” I supplied.
“Not at my school.” Mand mentioned.
“Nor mine.” Geth added.
“Right then people,” Chris got our attention, “we'll be making a move in a couple of minutes. We'll be doing two laps around this lump behind the town in a sort of race simulation. You'll be riding as two teams with Drew and Laura in charge; each team will have a designated sprinter and a designated climber.
Lap one is about getting your sprinter to an intermediate sprint point, lap two is about winning at the summit. You'll each score points at each point and the finish, the winning team will have the better overall score so captains, it's as much about marshalling your troops as winning at the two points. Winning team gets to ride the bus back to Lezzeno.
Just as a twist Mike and Darren will tell you who has which title on each team.”
Oh boy, I've got to get Claire to the sprint and Geth to the summit with the further assistance of Manda and Josh. It could be worse, Geth can climb okay and whilst she's not in Mark's league, Claire's sprinting isn't too shabby although she's not a strong climber. Laura's task is no easier of course with Sal as climber and Darren as sprinter – we'll see I guess.
The climb out of Laino is more relentless than steep, the road narrow and twisty as it heads up the slopes of Cma. Costone. I had everyone except Claire marking the others moves; my job was to keep Claire in contention by making sure she wasn't dropped. Laura had, as it happens, taken a more direct attacking approach, which kept my guys on their toes.
We all reached the sprint zone together in the end, Mark found himself boxed in by team Drew which gave me max points although he did break through to take second spot ahead of Josh. The start of the battle for KOM or is that QOM started before we got back to the climb; I sent Josh and Geth off on a long one. The bad news really was that the rest of my riders couldn't contain Laura's counter attack.
I didn't see who got the verdict as I found myself pacing Claire up the climb some distance behind the action. We never did get back to the action although we did collect the other girls, the lads were well gone. By the time we arrived at Laino, Mark was still celebrating his ‘win' although Josh apparently gave him a run for his money.
“Okay everyone,” Steve addressed us, “winners are Laura's team, so bikes to the van then on the bus.”
“We gotta ride back?” Claire queried, “I'm cream crackered.”
“I can't recall Chris saying that.” Steve observed with a grin.
Thinking about it all he said was that the winners got to ride the bus back.
“Go on then, bikes to the mechs – unless you want to ride back?”
No one needed telling a second time, the smug expressions on the victors faces were soon replaced when they realised they had been had.
We got back to the Hotel Como just turned five thirty, tired sweaty and hungry.
“Before you all disappear to shower, remember dinner is earlier tonight, Giovanni wants everyone at table for six thirty okay?” Caroline informed us.
“Sooner the better like, I'm starved.” Josh noted as we headed inside.
“So you need a skirt again tonight Drew?” Laura asked.
“Nah, think I'll live today, it's mostly all scabbed up now.” At any rate I am not doing the skirt thing again.
“What about you Mark?” Manda suggested.
“Think I'll take a rain check.” He replied with a chuckle.
“You guys are no fun!” Sal mentioned.
“Maybe you could wear one like.” Josh put forward.
“It's no fun if we do it.” Claire stated.
“'Tis for us.” Jamie grinned.
“Drew? Come see me when you've showered, I need to check your side.” Jemma called up the staircase.
Looks like I need to shake a leg.
“Er sure, it's a lot better today.”
“I still need to check it, don't want an infection do we.”
Obviously not, “Usual room I guess ? ”
“I've not moved.”
“Half hour then.” I sighed.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 12.07.13
Chapter *36*
Pasta Master
“Hmm, that thigh's a bit weepy.” Jemma noted.
“But it's scabbing up.”
“It needs a bit of air to dry it up.”
“I am not wearing a skirt again!”
“Whoa, calm down, I wasn't even going to suggest that, just go commando in bed tonight?”
“Er sure.” I sighed.
“Let's get some antiseptic on there for now.”
She carefully smeared the cream over my hip causing the occasional wince from my end.
“The skirt thing last night, you've done it before, right?”
“Too often, ouch!”
“Sorry, too often?”
“You know about my um, condition right?”
“Caroline explained.” She agreed.
“Well when I said too often I meant all the time.”
“What do you mean? You're a cross dresser?”
“Not exactly, look this goes no further right?”
“I said on Sunday, nothing's changed.”
“Okay, what if I was to tell you most people think I'm a girl.”
“Well I did first time we met.”
“Yeah but I mean like everyone. When I started school in Germany, well I hadn't been there a week before everyone was treating me as one of the girls – even the teachers.”
“Didn't you put them straight?”
“I tried but when some wag entered me for the local wine queen competition it just seemed easier to go along with it.”
“So what happened, with the competition?”
“I won.” I admitted.
“Didn't your parents say anything?”
“They weren't exactly pleased I'll tell you. I got an ultimatum, honour the prize and embrace girl hood for the year or make everyone look daft for voting for a boy with all the social stigma involved. So okay, I wimped and took the easy out of not rocking the boat.”
“So you've been living as a girl since last year?”
“Sort of, it was a bit of a lark to start with but now, well everyone knows me as Gaby, youngest daughter of Jenny Bond.”
“Gaby?”
“Long story.” I observed.
“But you race as Drew, right?”
“Uh huh, but I still get mistaken as a girl.”
‘Interesting choice of words. ' Jemma mused.
“It's not like I dress like a girl at races or anything.”
“People see what they want to see.” Jem allowed.
My stomach gave a very audible rumble.
“Sounds like someone's hungry.”
“What do you reckon it is tonight?” Claire asked.
“Probably egg and chips.” Darren offered.
“Whatever it is I wish they'd hurry up, I'm starved.” I observed.
Timing eh, at that moment Eve and Lidia arrived with our starters which tonight was actually a light minestrone soup bearing little in common with the stuff you get in tins. Silence descended on our tables as everyone tucked in to the food. Giovanni and Claudio were fighting with something that looked like a cross between a tent and a cake stand – hey, maybe we've got cake for dinner.
We made short work of the soup – well we're hungry! The girls collected our soup bowls and our attention returned to the strange contraption Claudio was still fiddling with.
“I wonder what that's for?” Claire queried.
“Clothes drier?” Sal suggested.
“Why would it be out here?” Mand asked.
“No idea.” Sal admitted.
Giovanni reappeared and came over to the BC enclave.
“Good eve -a-ning laydeez and gentlemen, no a boat trips tonight, my Maria, she prepare a special treat.”
My attention was temporarily taken by activity around the weird contraption, the arrival of several large covered tureens – interesting.
“So a tonight we a have the pasta feast.” Giovanni went on. “Iss a aiuta te stesso, how you say self a service so you can sample the different pasta and sauce. Eat, return, try other, Eve, she a bring a you the plate then you go to the servitoro, so please, enjoy.” He grinned.
Oh boy, a pasta bun fight!
Giovanni went to talk to the adults leaving us chomping at the bit. To be fair Eve arrived in short order with the warm plates which she distributed along with a linen napkin to hold them with.
“Please ladies, go before the boys, eh?” she suggested with a wink.
I guess that includes me as I'm on the same table. The five of us headed to the now fully laden ‘servitoro' as Giovanni called it.
“Oh my god, how much food?” Laura exclaimed.
Indeed there was a ton. The big tureens each contained pretty standard pasta, spaghetti, fusilli, conchigliette and tagliatelli. Smaller dishes were filled with assorted cannelloni, tortellini, ravioli and gnocchi, fresh salad of course and the sauces, Milanese, bolognese, carbonara and a couple more I couldn't immediately put a name to. Pasta feast – no kidding!
It would be easy to pile your plate with spaghetti and a dose of sauce but that would be such a waste.
“What're you having Drew?” Mand asked.
“Bit of this and that.” I supplied helping myself to a meat filled cannelloni.
“What're those little knotted things?” Claire enquired.
“The tortellini?” I brandished the serving spoon at the dish.
“No the other.”
“Gnocchi, probably got some sort of cheese inside, here, try some.” I offered her the spoon.
Somehow I've taken on the position of food expert on this trip, I guess I do take an interest and we do eat a wide variety of stuff at home. I suppose most people know the popular pasta options like spaghetti but let's face it most of the time it comes in either bolognese or carbonara sauce or even a pretty nasty tomato flavoured coating. This here is the real McCoy served how it's supposed to be – a different experience altogether.
I continued loading my plate, a few ravioli, some gnocchi; I passed on the tortellini but shoveled half a spoon of the fusilli on. I went for the Milanese sauce, added some salad leaf, a generous spoon of parmesan et voila I'm ready to munch! The others followed my lead and we were soon tucking in as the lads took their turn at the grub.
“Hmm.” I allowed on discovering the contents of the ravioli to be a bit spicier than I was expecting.
“This is really good.” Mand offered around a fork full of tagliatelli.
“Worth waiting for.” Sal agreed.
I purposely hadn't loaded my plate too much – I rather fancy some spag bol too.
We were all pretty lost in the food for a while, some had enough with one visit, I did get my spag bol but managed to over face myself somewhat. Dessert was a lemon sorbet, just as well it wasn't much more or I might not have managed it! As the girls brought the coffee Chris stood up.
“Okay people, attention please. Some feast eh? Well I'm not going to talk food; rather it's the plan for tomorrow. As you know we'll be travelling up into Switzerland, it's not too long a drive, a couple of hours hopefully so we don't need to leave at the crack of dawn. That doesn't mean there's not a schedule, far from it.
So, breakfast, done and dusted by nine please, bags to reception for nine thirty, depart at ten. No riding tomorrow so once we get to Lucerne the afternoon is all yours for sightseeing etc. or I understand there's a pool if anyone's interested.
Questions?”
There wasn't really anything to query about tomorrow, Mark's question was looking forward.
“What about Friday, we got registration and stuff?”
“We have, I'll sort that all out once we get to our hotel tomorrow, I'll let you know the schedule at dinner. Anything else?”
There being nothing further the briefing ended and we were turned free.
“Anyone fancy the beach again?” Sal queried.
“I guess.” I allowed, my very vague arrangement with Toni in the back of my mind.
“Swimmies?” Claire suggested.
“You betcha!” Mand agreed.
“Guys? Beach?” Laura called across to the other table.
“Sounds good like,” Josh opined.
“Aye count me in,” Jamie added.
“Fifteen minutes?” Claire put forward.
“Anyone not here will have to catch us up.” Mand stated.
With my physique boy's swim shorts are out and let's face it, I am not a girl with a supply of bikinis at my disposal – that would be like so wrong and anyhow with my scrapes and bruises it's not exactly a good idea to get in the lake. I trooped upstairs though, well I'm not going out in a t shirt with Bolognese all over it am I?
I should let Toni know we're coming, I sort of owe him an ice cream from the other night, he did stay with me for like three hours or something. I flicked my handy open, T for Toni, one entry. I hit the dial button.
It rang several times before being answered.
“Hallo, is a Toni here.”
“I know that Dumbo.” I giggled. Okay so I giggle a bit.
“Everything, it ees okay?”
“Very okay, look we're all heading around to the beach in a few minutes, wondered if you and your friends'll be about?”
“I have the chores to do but maybe in a thirty minutes?”
“Thirty minutes is good.”
“We'll see you soon, ciao bella.”
“Yeah ciao.”
I closed my phone. It's not a date, we're just meeting up, I mean everyone else will be there too. Damn, these shorts are rubbing a bit.
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 14.07.13
Chapter *37*
Mixed Feelings
I cautiously made my way outside, good the others have gone. Dad and the coaching team were another matter, I have to go right past where they're sat talking to get to the beach path. Hmm, what to do? Disguise, that's what I need. I glanced around reception for looking for inspiration, my reflection caught my attention then it struck me – hair.
You know my hair is a bit long, it's sort of a trademark but also fuelled by peer pressure – all my school friends have fairly long hair, the girls that is, and I kinda like it. Well I've been wearing it in a low ponytail whilst with BC, keeps it out of the way and I don't think braids or anything else would help fitting in as a boy! I know, I'll wear it down.
A quick release of the hair tie, shake it out, hmm maybe it does need a trim, getting a bit ratty. Then inspiration got me, they'd used some checked ribbon on a dried flower arrangement, checking no one was about I purloined said ribbon. A minute later I had it tied in place with a floppy bow sitting atop my head, yup definitely more Gaby than Drew.
I checked outside again, the adults were laughing at something, time to go. Out the door, across the veranda and onto the road way, the on shore breeze had me pushing my skirt down, oh yeah, I'm wearing that skirt again, well my shorts were rubbing and Jemma did say I should let some air at my wound. No one took any notice as I hurried past, my pace not slowing until the path turned from sight.
‘That looked like Gaby,' Dave observed as the little blonde slipped past their table, “what's that kid up to now?” no one else seemed to have noticed the girl which was good, he took a pull on his beer, returning his attention to Darren's bawdy tale.
Drew paused to get his heart rate back down, it having become elevated during his subterfuge. ‘What the heck am I doing?' he thought to himself as he looked out over Lake Como, ‘ This is madness.'
“Drew?”
Too late for second thoughts, “Toni?”
The youth quickly covered the distance between them.
“You a look a- very pretty.”
“Er thanks.” Well it's better than cute I guess.
“We a go to the beach?”
“In a minute.”
I'm not sure who was most surprised when I pulled his head down and planted my lips over his. Any reticence on his part soon disappeared, my spur of the moment action turning into an extended lip lock. Oh boy. We eventually separated, my heart rate having climbed once more.
“Now we go the beach.” I stated with a grin taking his hand.
We were nearly at the beach before it occurred to me that my current appearance and erm, closeness to Toni would not look good to the others. Raging hormones or not I've been protesting my manliness the last couple of days and arriving with Toni looking like loves lost dream will likely kill any chance of getting my relationship with the others fully squared away.
“Um, Toni, we don't have to go straight to the beach do we?”
“You wanna go a- somewhere else?”
“Where you found me the other night?” I suggested with a level of coyness I never imagined I had.
I think he got my meaning as he grabbed my hand and led the way onto the rocky promontory.
“I think that's my phone,” Mand mentioned.
“Well answer it then.” Claire suggested.
“Hello de Vreen.”
“Hey Mand, Drew.”
“Where are you?”
“I um got a bit sidetracked, look anyway I bumped into that lad, you know from Monday?”
“Toni?”
“Yeah, that's him, so like he suggested we bring ice cream?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“You wanna check who wants what.”
I thought it was a cunning ruse.
“That everything?” I enquired a couple of minutes later.
“Think so.”
“There's one thing before we get there, Jemma suggested I get some air to my gravel rash so I'm er wearing the skirt, could you just sort of warn the others?”
“I guess,“ she agreed, so like what? Ten minutes?”
“More like fifteen.” I suggested as Toni's tongue explored places no other has ever been.
“Laters.”
“Yeah, lai-ters.” I squeaked before ending the call.
“Give over Tone.” I told him off with a gentle shove.
“But you a- like it so a much.”
“Never said I didn't but I need to get tidied up and we need to go to your cousin's gelaterie.”
“One a last kiss?”
How could I deny him? After all I was at least as hungry for it! Several minutes later we parted somewhat breathless and dishevelled, I suppose we do have to go meet the others. I did a quick job of putting my hair in a tail and reluctantly allowed Toni to lead me back to civilisation.
The gelato order required more carrying than four hands, especially as several cans of cola and lemonade had been requested too.
“You a bringa the pail back in the morning, Toni.”
“Si Giulia.”
“She a nice girl Toni, you a treat good, eh?”
“Sure, ciao cousin.”
“Ciao Toni.”
“She's nice.” I allowed as we headed towards the squeals and good-natured shouting on the beach.
“She like a you too.” He supplied.
“There you are, we thought you'd got lost like.” Josh mentioned taking the bag of soft drinks out of my hand.
“Yeah well this lot didn't just buy itself?” I pointed out.
“We should head back.” Laura suggested as the sun dropped behind the self same ‘mountain' we were racing around earlier.
“Yeah, we should go pack I guess.” Mark agreed.
And so the die was cast. We collected our stuff; made our goodbyes with the locals with whom we'd spent the evening.
I could hardly get up close and personal with Tone, not with everyone else around.
“G'nite Toni,” I mentioned with a smile, adding soundlessly ‘five minutes' before following my teammates off the beach.
“So what was that all about?” Manda asked as I caught up.
“All what?”
“You know damned well what Gaby Bond!”
“Mand!” I shushed her, hopefully no one else heard her.
“So, spill.”
“There's nothing to tell, I bumped into him on the way is all.”
“Ah, so you know who I meant.”
“Well it was hardly a secret.”
“From the looks he was giving you all evening I'd wager there's a lot more to it.”
“Well there's not alright.” I made a show of looking in my bag, “You see what I did with my wallet?”
“I thought you put it in there.” She motioned towards my bag.
“Sugar, it must've dropped out on the beach, I'd best go back to find it.”
“I'll come too.” Mand offered.
“No need, I think I know where it'll be, see you back at the hotel.”
“If you're sure.”
“No sweat, won't be long.”
It wasn't far back to the beach, I had a few minutes before Mand would smell a rat, and a jog would extend that by a minute or two.
“Drew,” a voice hissed from the shadows as I reached the tiny cove.
“Geez Toni, you frightened me.”
He pulled me into a um rather close embrace.
“I told Mand that I'd dropped my purse so we've got like five minutes.”
“Let's a not waste eet then.” He proposed before clamping his lips to mine.
‘Gaby Bond, you little hussy!' Mand grinned to herself. She'd followed the Wunderkind back to the cove, the missing wallet seemed a little too convenient, especially after the looks the pair had been exchanging since they arrived. Looks like Miss Bond has the hots for a certain Italian Stallion!
“You know we're leaving tomorrow?” I queried once the initial ardour had been spent.
“My uncle, he a tell this last night.”
“I've really enjoyed tonight.” I allowed.
“Me also.”
“We can text and stuff.” I hopefully suggested.
“This I think I like, Fraulein Bond.”
For some reason that made me feel a little gooey inside.
“I should go before I'm missed.”
“Si.” Tone agreed before planting a kiss on my forehead.
I gave him a last hug, well and peck on the lips before leaving the shadows and heading back towards the Hotel Como.
I felt all sort of squidgy inside, a feeling I've never had before. Does this mean I'm gay? I mean I don't make a habit of snogging lads but I can't say I've had the urge like this around girls either. It was nice though, even when I checked the second and third times it was just as nice.
I nearly walked into Manda.
“Finally.”
“Thought you were going on.”
“Well I decided to wait, what took you so long?” apart from Toni. Mand queried.
“Took me longer than I thought to find it?”
‘Didn't seem to take that long,' Mand mused, ‘not long at all.'
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 15.07.13
Chapter 38*
Vierwaldstattersee
“Nite Dad, nite everyone.”
“G'nite Drew, Amanda.” Dave replied.
“Don't be late in the morning.” Caro added.
“We won't.” Drew chirped before following Manda inside.
“Someone's happy.” Chris suggested.
“Indeed,” Dave agreed thoughtfully, ‘indeed.'
Once up in my room all thoughts of packing were forgotten, I kicked off my sandals and dropped onto the bed. What an evening. I think it's fair to say however that it wasn't the pasta feast or particularly mucking about on the beach that captured my thoughts, no it was a certain individual of local extraction .
All of my insides seem to go gooey at the mere thought of him and when I remember the er kissing, mama mia! And we're leaving tomorrow, maybe I can come visit? Or he could come to Germany? No, not a good idea, the girls'll try to nick him off me, no I'll come here, I can probably fly to Milan and ride up here.
My thoughts returned to our earlier passion, at some point I must've dropped off as the next conscious thought was focused on the sounds of a refuse truck clanging and beeping somewhere nearby. My alarm joined the cacophony, sugar, seven thirty!
I wasn't the last to reach the breakfast room in fact none of the girls were there so I plonked myself down with Darren.
“Yo.”
“Unlike you to be so early.” He observed.
“Packing didn't take too long.” I noted before taking a good pull of my coffee cup.
“I wouldn't mind coming here again. It's been pretty cool even with all the riding.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “the place certainly has its attractions.” One metre seventy-five, brown hair, lips like hmm wine.
“You listening?”
“Sorry.”
“I was just saying, the food's been brill, I thought it'd be all pasta.”
“They probably think you only eat roast beef in England.”
“Never thought of it like that.”
The others drifted in over the next few minutes; we wouldn't be waiting for anyone this morning. Not needing to rush meant we could linger over an extra coffee before our nine o'clock evacuation. Having got pretty much everything packed before breakfast I only needed another ten minutes to clear the room and finish the job.
I plonked my bags down with the rest.
“Leg better this morning?” Jemma enquired.
“Bit itchy.”
“That's good, means it's healing.”
“Still annoying.”
“You put the cream on this morning?”
“Er yeah.” I hedged.
“Drew.”
“Well I finished packing before I remembered.”
“Promise me you'll do it once we get to Lucerne.”
“I promise.” I sighed.
It was easier to keep out of the way than try to help with the loading so I drifted over to the waterfront where Mand was gazing over the lake.
“Wotcha.”
“Hmm.” She allowed.
“Been nice here.”
“Not much entertainment.”
“Oh I don't know, the beach was alright. What's up Mand, you've hardly said a word all morning.”
“Nothing.” Except the pretty blonde gets the man again.
“So you want to hit the shops when we get to Luzern?” Drew suggested.
‘Why did it have to be you?'
“I guess.”
The mini convoy left the Hotel Como and with it Lezzeno shortly before Chris' ten o'clock deadline but instead of heading towards the ferries at Bellagio they turned south towards the town that gave the lake its name, Como. It seemed a bit illogical to spend half an hour going south when they were headed north but they quickly joined the E35 northbound almost immediately crossing into Switzerland. They were soon past Lugano and approaching Bellinzona by eleven o'clock and the start of the long approach to the Gotthard Pass.
It's a long climb to the tunnel, seventy kilometres, seventy kilometres filled with seemingly every truck in Europe wanting to travel up through Switzerland to Germany, France and beyond. Somewhere around Biasca the truck fell behind, the incessant grade having taken its toll. The tunnel was open today so they used the twenty-kilometre shortcut under Andermatt that spat them out after a dark and noisy climb into the Reustal.
Somehow there seemed to be less traffic as they dropped towards Altdorf where they caught a brief glimpse of Vierwaldstattersee before entering the Seelisberg Tunnel, another dozen kilometres underground. Once at the northern end it was barely thirty minutes to the Luzern Centre turn off although fifteen minutes more to reach their accommodation, a small but fairly modern affair behind the Altstadt.
“Bit different to Lezzeno.” Claire noted as we climbed down from the bus, stiff from almost three hours non-stop traveling.
“No kidding.” I agreed as a trolleybus trundled past.
Italy, well the tiny bit we've been in, was fairly parched, the lights different here, colours look more solid, trees greener. Not only that but gauging from our short transit of the city, it's a hell of a lot busier, I know you'd expect that but it was a jolt after the Lombardy countryside.
“Inside you lot.” Caro dictated.
We made our way inside to where Jemma was waiting with a tray of keys.
“Right then, same allocations as Lezzeno, the truck should be here in a couple of minutes with your bags but I'll give you your keys in a moment. Once you've got your bags in your rooms the afternoon is yours. If you want to eat this evening, seven o'clock sharp here in reception, there's no restaurant here so we'll be using a place in the old town.
"Okay then, Josh and Drew – room 416.”
Unlike the Hotel Como this place, the Löwenplatz Plaza Hotel is somewhat less involved and who sleeps with whom was of no interest.
“You go open the room, I'll bring the bags.” Josh told me once we'd located our domicile on the hotel plan.
“You sure?”
“Aye man, it's only a small lift, easier with less bodies like.”
“If you say so.”
As you might guess from our room number our accommodation is on the fourth floor so I used the lift myself to reach it. We are halfway along the corridor; I opened the door into what is pretty much a standard layout room. Toilet / shower by the door, two single beds taking up most of the main room, wardrobe, desk, a pair of easy chairs, wall mounted telly and big double glazed window – yup pretty standard.
I claimed the bed closest to the door before checking out the view. Ha, that's a laugh, the window looks out over the roofs of downtown Luzern and not much else, well you can see the top of some mountain in the distance but certainly not the lake.
“Drew? Open up man.”
Door! I bounded over to said portal and let a much laden Mr. Waugh into our temporary abode. He dropped the bags before collapsing into one of the chairs.
“There's too many steps.” He wheezed.
“I thought you were using the lift?”
“The girls beat me to it so I used the stairs.” He explained.
“You alright with the window?” I hinted.
“Aye, it's a bed like. You okay with this, sharing with me like?”
We've been here before of course.
“You've not got anything I've not seen before,” I grinned.
“You know what I mean man.”
“I'll change in the bathroom okay and I promise not to walk round in just my bra and frilly panties.”
“Bra?”
“Josh, I was joking, but seriously, are you okay with it?”
He hesitated slightly before replying, “Aye, I'll be able to boast that I've slept with the hottest chick on the team.”
“You getting it on with Mand?”
“Mand? No you yer daft bugger.” He chuckled.
I started to blush, “Just don't use the ‘c' word and I might let you live.”
“So what's the plan for this afternoon like?”
“Not entirely sure, explore the town I guess.”
“Mark and the guys are on about going to this Lido place?” Josh offered.
“Think I'll give that a miss, it's not like I can hit the pool.”
His face dropped; clearly the pool was his preferred afternoon entertainment.
“You don't have to nursemaid me, we're only sharing a room.” I pointed out.
“If you're sure like?”
“I'm sure. If we don't shake a leg we won't be doing anything, you need the bathroom?”
“It's all yours.”
“I just need to put this cream on my leg then I'm off.”
“How is it?”
“Better but still sore, the shoulder's not so bad,” I pulled my t-shirt off to show him, “See?”
“Um Drew, er bra?” it was Josh's turn to blush.
“Bra? Oops sorry.” I giggled before skipping into the bathroom.
“This us?” I enquired.
“Think so,” Claire agreed, “Lor and Sal are going to the pool place with Mark and co, Mand mumbled something about meeting us later?”
“Whatever.” She's been a bit off all day.
“I've got a town plan, so where first? Shops or gawking?”
“Probably both if we go to the Altstadt.” I suggested.
“Camera?”
“Check.”
“Wallet?”
“Check.”
“Let's do it!”
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 17.07.13
Chapter 39*
Hairy Fit
I mentioned before that everything looked different from Lake Como; well the air even tastes different! Once we'd got our bearings with the tourist map it only took five minutes to reach the old town which today was buzzing with tourists from around the globe.
"Hey look Drew, there's a poster for the race." Claire pointed to one of those advertising things outside of the shop we were perusing.
"You wouldn't see that in Swindon." I offered.
"I don't think I've ever done a race with advertising before."
"Most of the stuff in Germany gets at least posters round the course."
"I don't suppose we'd get much attention if we painted ourselves orange and raced naked back home," she lamented.
"Oh I don't know, I think I'd pay to see that."
"Drew, you are a one," she playfully slapped my shoulder.
"Ow!" of course it had to be my sore one.
"Oo, sorry Drew, you alright?"
"I'll live." I allowed carefully rubbing the hurt.
"Mand said one of the girls on your team got selected for the Worlds?" Claire suggested as we tried to get a grockle free photo of the painted house fronts.
"Three of them actually."
"Wow," she paused as she did the calculations, "there's only five on your team?"
"Last time I checked."
"So everyone on your team is going to Denmark?"
"I guess so." I admitted.
"No wonder Caroline and Steve keep asking your dad's opinion, he's like super coach," she enthused before adding, "We're not in the same league are we?"
"Well we'll soon find out, they're riding the Cup too." Hmm, wonder when they'll get here?
We had finally got our pics and were sat on a seat by the Alte Rathaus.
"Be honest Drew, do you think we've got much chance? Mand's quite good but the rest of us, we're gonna be shelled out as soon as it goes uphill."
"Who says the other teams are any better? Come on, let's go look at these bridges."
We wandered through the old town to the first of the famous bridges which is called according to the sign the Spreuerbrücke. Well it's picturesque I suppose , but not the most famous, we had a ten minute walk towards the lake before finding the one on all the postcards, the Kapelbrücke. It's twice as long, twice as busy and with all the painted plaques inside, twice as interesting.
Bzzzt, bzzzt! My handy signalled an incoming call.
“Bond.”
“Gaby?”
“Ron?”
“Who else blondie?”
“Coulda be loadsa people.” I mentioned.
“So where are you?”
“Luzern.”
“I know that dummy, we saw your Dad's car at the race HQ.”
“So you guys are here too? Dur, of course you are. I'm with Claire; we're just getting some eis by the lake.”
“Aha, so it is you I can see?”
“Where're you? Gret and Tali with you?”
“We got here this morning, look over by the pleasure boats.”
I glanced over and spotted three figures bouncing about waving their arms around.
“We'll come over, er remember that I'm on the boy's team so it's Drew?”
“Sure.”
“Two minutes.” I shut the call off and stowed my phone in a pocket.
“Here,” Claire handed me my ice cream, “wish I could speak a foreign language that well.”
“Well you can start practicing, that was Roni, and you are just about to meet the German team.”
“Eh?”
“Come on, they're only the other side of the bridge.” I told her starting to head in the right direction.
“But...”
“They won't bite and they do speak some English,” I smirked.
I nearly lost my ice cream when I was mugged by the girls.
“Yay!”
“What's up dynamo?” Gret enquired backing off a bit.
“I've got some gravel rash, fell off in Italy,” I admitted.
“So who's your friend?” Tali enquired.
“Claire, she only has English.”
“Ello Claire, nice to meet with you.” Tali offered.
“Um hi.”
“I'm Roni and Godzilla here is Greta.”
They exchanged handshakes.
“I've er seen you guys racing with Drew, do you really beat the boys?”
“Only when they have a bad day.” Roni grinned.
“Which is every day we ride!” Gret stated.
“You can exaggerate.” Tali allowed, “So you guys have been doing the sights?”
“Yeah, we've been round the Altstadt, seen the bridges.”
“Looked in the spielhaus?” Roni suggested.
“There's one here?” I excitedly asked.
“Up near the Rathaus” Tali grinned.
“Come on wunderkind!” Roni encouraged.
“What's a speelhorse?” Claire asked as we were whisked along by my other teamies.
“Spielhaus, it's a erm toyshop.” I told her.
“Toyshop? What do you want to go there for?”
“The wunderkind, she collects the model autos.” Gret supplied.
“The what?”
“Er model cars.” I sheepishly admitted.
“I thought you were going to say dolls .” Claire smirked.
“I'm a big girl now so I've moved on.” I joked.
Roni led the way and in short order we were at the shop in question.
“We must have walked right past it,” Claire observed.
“He can be hours in these places, we'll go get a coffee eh?” Roni suggested.
“We'll be in the square.” Gret advised me.
Having got as far as the door it would be impolite to not go and take a look at least. We might be in a different country but they do a passable German around here and the Swiss obsession with railways includes the miniature ones and the peripherals too. I found the modelleisenbahn department up on the second floor and started to peruse their wares.
My handy started to buzz, I'm popular this afternoon!
“Bond.”
“Gab, it's Amanda.”
“Feeling better?”
“Sort of, so where are you guys, I'll come and meet you.”
“I'm in the model shop, Claire's with the girls getting coffee.”
“I thought Lor and Sal went swimming.”
“They did, no Roni, Gret and Tali, they're here to ride the Cup, we kinda bumped into each other.”
“The girls you ride with for Apollinaris?”
“The same.”
“You won't want me then, I'd best not come.” Her voice sagged at the other end of the line.
“Don't be so daft, I'm sure they'd like to meet you and anyway there's still some shops me an' Claire haven't done.”
“If you're sure?”
“Course I am, meet me outside here in ten minutes.”
I gave her directions from the hotel before getting back into model car mode. To be honest they were mostly the same stuff I can get in Bonn or Koblenz but somewhat more expensive – can't see the point in buying just because they're here. Then I spotted a shelf away from the standard releases and a shelf ticket, ‘Schweizer Speciale' – their spelling not mine!
So alright I spent a chunk, they took Euros which was handy, so I left the store clutching a bag with half a dozen Swiss edition models and not much change out of a hundred euros. Most of them are Swiss Post vehicles, in the famous yellow and white colours but there's one that's painted for Swiss TV and a Mercedes van for Milka chocolate, you know the one with purple cows? Now then, where's Mand?
There were a few people about but no sign of Mand, hang on that girls wearing the same t shirt she had on this morning, not Manda though, wrong colour hair. She should be here by now, it's not that far from the hotel and I'm sure I've been more than ten minutes.
“There you are,” Mand observed from behind me.
“Yeah sorry, was just buy…ing.” I only then saw her as I finished turning. “What the heck have you done to your hair?”
“I er fancied a bit of a change?” she mumbled looking at the floor.
“Mand, that's not a bit, that's a lot!”
I don't think even a lot really covers it, gone were her light brown tresses replaced with a head of almost white locks, she'd even done her eyebrows which made her look almost albino.
“I didn't think it would come out like this, I can't do anything right, I shouldn't've come.” She made to run off but I caught her arm which caused her to turn into my embrace.
“We can get something to tone it down.” I suggested.
“It says you shouldn't recolour within forty eight hours.” She sniffed.
“Why'd you do it, I liked your hair colour.”
“Blondes have more fun?”
“I'd dispute that. Come on let's see if the others have got any ideas.”
“Others?”
“I told you, my teamies from Germany.”
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 17.07.13
Chapter 40*
Alpine Maid
“Drew! Über hier!” Ron yelled out.
“Not exactly shrinking violets.” I mentioned to Mand.
“Wish I was right now.” She whispered.
We crossed to where Claire, Gret, Ron and Tali occupied a table.
“Guys, this is Mand, Mand meet Roni, Talia and Greta.”
“Nice to meet you.” Mand offered.
By this time Claire's jaw was nearly on the floor.
My German friends were unaware there was anything amiss of course having never met Mand before.
“We've er had a little hair dye incident.” I mumbled .
“It was only meant to be a couple of shades!” Mand groaned .
“The Boss is gonna go ballistic.” Claire finally got out.
“Not helpful,” I observed, “we can't dye it darker for a couple of days, any ideas?”
“I thought perhaps you were albino,” Ron considered.
“How about one of those highlighter sprays?” Tali suggested.
“Isn't that going the wrong way?” Gret queried, “We need darker not lighter.”
“They do them for dark hair, a few shades lighter than your natural.” Tal seemed to know plenty about this stuff.
“Sounds good, what do you reckon Mand?”
“‘S worth a try,” she shrugged.
“There's a store just up the street, I'll see if they've got some if you like?” Tal offered.
“I'll come with you,” Mand stated, “I need some dye anyhow.”
“We'll wait here, you want coffee Claire?”
“Cappuccino please.”
Tal led Miss White off down the street.
“What was she thinking?” Claire enquired.
“She said she wanted a change.” I supplied.
“It's certainly that!”
“Don't go on about it eh? She's bound to get an ear bashing anyhow.” I pressed.
When they returned, Mand's hair, whilst still very blonde did at least have some colour to it and she had eyebrows again – a definite improvement.
“The assistant,” Tali mentioned, “she thinks better to wait longer before the new colour.”
At least Manda looked more like herself than an anti Goth, a definite improvement. We finished our coffee and prepared to move on.
“What's the time?” Claire asked.
“Er, just turned five.” I supplied having spotted the Rathaus clock.
“We need to be back and changed for seven,” she noted.
“You guys are out on the town tonight?” Gret queried.
“Nah, the hotel is a garni so we have to eat in town somewhere.”
“We are staying in student accommodation, we'll be enjoying the canteen,” Roni sighed.
That could've been me if BC hadn't got me first.
We wandered along the street to the Reuss then back towards the lake.
“So who else is on Team Deutschland?”
“Just us three on the girls,” Tali advised, “there should've been another but she had to pull out.”
“What about the boys?”
“You know most of them Drew, I think maybe Paul Innerthausen not, he rides mostly in the former east.”
“Doesn't ring any bells.” I agreed. “Did you know Dad's here?”
“With you?” Gret clarified.
“With the team, he's been in Italy with us too.”
“Pah, no slacking then ladies.” Roni grinned.
All too soon it was time for us to go our separate ways, Claire, Mand and I were nearly back to the Löwenplatz Plaza before I realised why it felt strange. Normally if I'm with Ron and co we're staying in the same place – and racing on the same team. Racing against them is gonna take some getting used to.
Dinner was unremarkable, we used a place on the Weinmarkt, everyone having the set menu of tomato soup followed by pork medallions with the trimmings – even that was twenty quid a head. The conversation was mostly about what the others got up to at the Lido and the big museum they'd passed to get there, some sort of railway collection – Mand's hair was surprisingly not mentioned. As usual Chris stood to give us tomorrow's programme.
“I hope you all had a good afternoon, it's back to the bikes tomorrow! So after breakfast we'll go down to the event HQ to get you signed in and get your race numbers etc. then we'll be doing a steady ride straight from there. We'll have a team conference before we go to dinner – there's a reception for all the teams in the town hall so make sure your smart gear is er smart.
That's it, I suggest an early night is in order, questions?”
There being none, he sat to finish his drink while we all started making departure moves.
“Amanda? Could I see you before you leave please?” Caro requested .
I guess the fan and excrement combination was inevitable.
“Drew, Jamie, a moment please.” Chris requested after we'd done with the formal signing on business next morning.
“Sure Boss, what's up?” I can't believe I've finally got here, riding for BC in a proper international race.
“The race organisers want to borrow you two for some publicity stuff this afternoon so after our ride Mr Bond will bring you both back along here.”
Maybe we'll get a chance to look around the museum, that'd be cool.
“You both okay with that? I think they've asked for a couple of riders from all the bigger squads.”
“I guess it goes with the job,” Jamie noted.
“Maybe we can get a sponsorship deal with Swiss cheese.” I grinned.
As we were at the Verkehrshaus, the Swiss transport museum, our training ride quite sensibly headed east from there to Zugersee, which we then circled before looping around the airport towards Rothenburg. From there it was back into Luzern, it was a little over a hundred kilometres, not at race speed but not hanging about too much either. I think we were all feeling quite good and the coaching team looked pretty happy too.
It wasn't the hardest ride or the most difficult terrain; in fact it was pretty level for most of the time. Compared to our time in Italy it had certainly been much easier terrain but I think we were still all quite happy to stop.
“Jamie, Drew, quick shower back here in fifteen minutes please.” Chris instructed, “rest of you thirty minutes.
“Come on you two, we were supposed to be there ten minutes ago,” Dad chivvied.
“We got to ride?” I queried noting the bikes on the Mercedes' roof.
“I doubt it,” Dad supplied pulling out into the traffic, “most likely just standing with them.”
“Ah think even ah can manage that.” Jamie offered.
“So what are the others doing this afternoon?”
“I think they're having a boat ride,” Dad mentioned.
Once on the lakeside road it didn't take long to cover the couple of K to the Swiss Transport Museum, Dad parked us up opposite and we were soon pushing our steeds through a side entrance into the complex.
“Abend, Team GB.” Dad told the pleasant looking woman with the clipboard who greeted us
“Gut, you are the last to arrive.”
“Sorry we got a bit lost on our training ride , ” Dave supplied.
“Come, they are just setting up.”
We followed her out into the main courtyard where another couple of dozen of our fellow riders waited their turn to be ‘arranged'.”
“Please the race jerseys.” Our guide gave instruction – in German, as that's how Dad had addressed her.
“What's going on Drew?” Jamie queried.
“She wants us in our race kit.”
Dad held the bikes while we stripped down to our riding kit before we were all ‘artfully' arranged for a group photograph.
“Wonder why they didna e have one o' the girls, most of the other teams have a lassie here.” Jamie observed.
I hadn't really thought about it, Tali was here with some long streak I vaguely recognised but I presumed the organisers had chosen randomly.
“No idea, maybe they picked the best looking.” I joked.
Once the group stuff was done with we had ‘per team' photos - which I wrongly assumed would be the end of it.
“What now Dad?” we had found a bench to sit on out of the direct glare of the sun.
“No idea kiddo, oh looks like our minder is back.”
“Hallo,” she greeted in German once again, “would it be possible to borrow the small one for a while, the tourist office would like some extra pictures, you two gents can explore the museum.”
“You okay with that , Drew?” Dave asked his offspring .
“I guess.”
“Great, if you bring your bike.”
“What's happening , Mr Bond?” Jamie asked.
“We, young man get to explore the museum, Drew's doing more photos.”
“Ha, wheedled the ugly ones out of the running,” he grinned.
“Guess I'll see you later.” I noted as my guide led me off.
“Later,” Jamie allowed.
“So, Drew, yes? I'm Adelheid.”
“Nice name.”
“Too long,” she moaned, “most people call me Heidi, you too eh.”
“So what am I doing now, Heidi?”
“I think they have some traditions costume, they don't tell us so much.”
“Like lederhosen and stuff?”
“I think yes, it is Schweiz, it is expected.” She observed.
Well I guess I'll survive wearing the leather, done a lot worse after all.
Another girl took me into a makeshift changing area where an assortment of clothing was hung in bags waiting for wearers.
“You have worn the dirndl before?”
Dirndl? What is she on about?
“Er no.”
“Not even for the Heimatfest? Ah well, please your cycle clothing remove.”
I was half undressed when a familiar voice broke into my thoughts.
“Drew? That you?” Tali queried.
“In the er flesh so to speak.” I allowed, “Where are you?”
“The other side, so they got you too eh?”
“Looks like it, what've they got you wearing?”
“The full landeskleidung, I'm just waiting for someone to do my hair I think, what about you?”
“Lederhosen I guess, the girl from the tourist people muttered something about shoes and disappeared.”
Of course at that moment she reappeared.
“Not you too, do none of you wear proper underwear? Obviously not.”
What is she on about; oops I forgot about my erm, vest.
She started rooting around in a box and after an ‘aha!' and ‘these'll do' she returned to where I was trying to cover myself up sat in just my skivvies.
“Here we go, hurry up now, we've a lot to do and not so much time.” She advised handing me a couple of bags of – you've got to be kidding.
“But I'm a..”
“Come on, we haven't time to discuss things,” she insisted.
I should've smelt a rat earlier when Heidi referred to me as ‘the small one' and dur, my tormentor here was on about dirndl's – that's like the landeskleidung that Tali said she's wearing – sugar, they think I'm a girl.
“Please hurry, the boys are waiting.”
“Tali?”
“Go with it girl, no one's gonna recognise you.” She'd obviously been listening in.
“But?”
“Got Drew, it's not like you don't wear dresses at home.”
“Yeah but…”
“You think I'm overjoyed either?”
Fifteen minutes later, my hair braided and pinned, exposing more chest than is really necessary, my skirts swirling about my knees, I followed Tali and our dresser across into the main railway hall to start the photo shoot. Apparently my costume is typical of Graubünden, which is southeast Switzerland, Tali has the Valais variation, the difference mostly being the headgear and lace patterns. I felt a right prawn wearing this stuff and especially here and in this context.
We met up with the rest of the ‘models', a French lad called something Roland and Czech kid who's grasp of German was on the level of ‘ja' and French no better. The ‘artistic director' soon had us posing in groups, singly, with bikes, without bikes, on locomotives, in carriages. Tali kept pulling silly faces, which had me giggling and totally forgetting that I'm not a girl, and should not be dressed as some sort of Alpine Lolita posing around a museum.
After exhausting the opportunities in the rail halls we moved to another building where we repeated the process with an assortment of cable car gondolas and other bits of tourist moving equipment. Of course the museum is open to normal visitors so we often had a bit of an audience, we'd just moved outside where an old post bus awaited the photographic treatment when I spotted Dad and Jamie.
“Looks like Tali got nabbed too.” Dave observed watching the photographic shenanigans.
“Tali?” Jamie queried.
“The dark haired girl, one of my other charges on the Apollinaris squad, she's riding for the German Federation this week.”
“Ah, one of the girls Manda and Claire were talking about last night.”
“Can't see Drew there.” Dave noted.
“He'll be hiding somewhere, the other girl's a bit of a looker, if she rides a bike as well as she looks in that outfit we'll all be beat before we start,” Jamie chuckled.
Dave gave the smaller girl a bit more attention – no, it can't be, but it must be, how the… “I er guess we'll find out tomorrow.” What the hell is the kid up to? First there was Wednesday night, creeping around in Gaby mode then returning like the cat with the cream and now this.
“Hey look, it's your dad, with the red haired boy.” Tali observed, “Mr Bond!” she waved at Dad who waved back.
“That's Jamie, he comes from Schottland .” I supplied.
“Please, your attention ladies!” the AD snapped.
“Er sorry,” Tali apologised .
“We are nearly done, one more set outside of the museum then we are finished.”
Goody.
It was closing on five when we returned to the dressing room to change out of our landeskleidung and back into our own stuff. By now, after something like three hours I'd completely forgotten that I was supposed to be in boy mode. I have seen most of the museum for free and it was sort of fun in the end.
“Tal, do us a favour, take a picture on my phone?”
“Sure.”
She took several and I did the same for her.
“So who you sending that to?” she enquired as I fiddled with my handy after getting out of the costume.
“Just Mum, she'll get a kick out of it.”
“Yes I think so too.” Tal agreed.
My fingers flew over the keys:
Hi Toni, missing you, tht u'd lk this pic, H&K, D
I pressed send before Tali could see the message.
“You going like that?” Tali suggested as I gathered my stuff.
Our borrowed underwear had been ‘given' to us so I hadn't bothered changing my BH or undoing my hair from the twin pretzels I'd worn most of the afternoon.
“Why not?”
“I thought you said it was Drew you were being for this racing? It is most certainly Gaby I see before me.”
Oh bugger! I' d been that carried away that I'd forgotten about it .
“Ah Drew,” Heidi got my attention before I could take any action, “your manager has taken your bike, he said to meet at the Mercedes?”
“Er yes, um okay, thanks Heidi.”
“I need to get on, thanks for doing this today, I'll see you girls at the start tomorrow.”
“Yeah, bye Heidi,” Tal agreed.
“Bye Heidi,” I added.
Sugar! Even more complications.
“Tal, help!”
“Your mess Gaby.” She smirked.
“Please?” I begged.
“Nope.”
“You know I'd help you.” I whined.
“Ha, gotcha!”
“Meanie.”
“So what am I doing?”
“Talk to Dad while I sort myself out, we'll give you a lift back.” I offered, she'd been left to find her own way back into Luzern as the rest of the German squad were training this afternoon.
“Okay, you got me.”
“Thanks Tal.”
When I got back to room 416 Josh was lying on his bed with the TV on, looked like the local evening news.
“You were a long time like.”
“Er yeah, lots of pictures and we got to go around the museum?”
“Whatever, we've been out on the lake and up that big mountain, Piltus or something, awesome or what, you can see right over the lake from up the-are man.”
To be honest I wouldn't've minded doing that myself.
“I'd best shake a leg,” I allowed.
“Aye, the Boss wants us doonstairs in like ten minutes,” Josh supplied.
I was halfway through re-dressing for this reception thing when my handy started buzzing at me with a message. I flipped it open and hit read.
Bella thx 4 the pic, u lk mor buty thn evr. Is pic of Toni eh! Ciao Bella, Toni
The picture was one of those cheesy self portraits, not exactly straight, odd expression, the whole nine yards but it was a picture of Toni, my Toni – I started to get squidgy.
“Hey Drew, they've got a piece on the race man.” Josh called towards the bathroom.
“Coming.” I replied pulling my shirt closed over my chest as I sank onto my bed to watch.
‘Tomorrow sees the start of the eighth edition of the Helvetica Cup from the Verkehrshaus here in Luzern. Over the next five days some of the top junior riders from around Europe will pit their bike handling skills against the testing terrain of the Mitteland.'
The picture changed from the studio to what appeared to be footage from this afternoon.
‘This afternoon some of the stars of tomorrow posed for photographs at the Verkehrshaus with some really getting into the Swiss experience by donning local costumes.'
Oh sugar with extra erm, sugar! How comes I hadn't seen the TV crew? There I was, on screen with Tali, in a flippin' dress mugging for the cameras as we sat on the old post bus.
‘We'll be following the progress of these girls and the other competitors with daily bulletins and live coverage of Sunday's mountain time trial. And now the weather.'
“That was Tali!” Josh exclaimed.
“Well I did tell you we saw the girls yesterday.”
“But you didn't mention you saw her today.”
“Didn't think about it,” I admitted.
In case you've missed it, Josh and Tali are sort of an item. But did he recognise me ?
“She looks a fair bonny lass in that dress like.”
“Er yeah.” I agreed crossing my fingers behind my back, “We should get to this meeting thing.”
“Aye.” He agreed silencing the idiot box, “Don't wanna be late.”
He didn't recognise me, he didn't recognise me. I repeated as a silent mantra.
“Not that your dress wasn't nice, man,” he added after a brief pause.
I'm dead, everyone'll know, it's not like you dress like that by accident is it?
to be continued....
© Maddy Bell 19.07.13