After being dropped off at London Stansted airport - where they actually have the unmitigated gall to charge you £2 for the privilege of being let out of your car at the kerb - the journey to Lyon was enlivened only by a humorous chat with the security screener. Him: "Have you got anything sharp on you?" Me: "No...(pause)...except for my wit." Him: "Well, you're at the wrong airport then. These people here are all witless."
The flight passed without major incident, apart from being within coughing distance of a French 2-year old with the worst case of measles I've ever seen.
Driving from Lyon Airport was a dream. French autoroutes are a thing of beauty, despite the occasional toll booth hassle and expense. Smooth, wide carriage ways, pleasant rest stops, great signage - 21st century stuff. (Take note, UK and US!)
After a little detour to photograph the village church, I managed to find the race HQ, and discovered friends Vincent, Nadine and Xavier already encamped outside the salle de fêtes. The temperature is high today and the sun is shining, but rain is in the imminent forecast. Tomorrow I'll score 1 for shabby hotel, zero for small tent camping.
Tomorrow will be a rest day, with pre-race greetings, introductions, instructions and welcome dinner in the evening. Then off to work on Monday with a hilly 52km (32mile) prologue. All good, except for a rather irritating sore throat...c'mon, Strepsils!
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