Set off for Brescia at 7am for the penultimate stage of the Giro to make sure we are there before all the road closures occur. First real sunny day of the trip. Followed by a police car which made the atmosphere a little tense in the Fiat Panda (See last blog entry).
The city was waking up and the barracades being assembled, and after a short stroll I made base camp on the finish line armed with sandwiches and beer. I wasnt the only English speaker on the home straight who was staking their claim to see Cavendish sprint to the Maglia Rosso - A Scottish couple Claire & Neal, couple of younger back packers and an Aussie.
As the day moved on, a cavalcade of promotional trucks bedecked with high heeled promo girls slowly meandered around the streets throwing hats bags and bananas of all things to the crowd. As a natural ginger I was wilting in the Italian sun, but I was determined to see the finish at close quarters. As was a 12 year old child who started to muscle in on my pitch. Her parents were behind me egging her on. If she was a bloke she'd have had a good slap by now, but I stood my ground for a couple of hours before capitulating 12 inches of space at the barrier. As the race neared Brescia, her mother was getting far to up close and personal for my liking, as was her father. I didn't need my google translate app to explain that I was going nowhere - I did it in the good old fashioned "Englishman abroad" way, ie talking loudly and slowly while gesticulating at them like a lunatic.
Well back to the race - while the Italian family clambered all over me the entire pelaton came in as one. With Cavendish at the front! I hoped he realised that there were 7 laps of the city. It was obvious he was trying to stay out of trouble on this highly technical course. Omega team mates eventually got in front of Cav to give him a bit of support and the crowd went wild. A text book lead out ensued and Cav blasted his way to the front on the final straight. No one came near touching him and the celebrations began as soon as crossed the line. As the Italians behind me were Cavendish fans I forgave them for trying to evict me from my pitch, and we were all one happy gang of cycling fanatics.
An emotional Nibali took his trophy and sat resplendent on a gaudy looking pink throne. Cavendish picked up his Maglia Rosso. A fantastic achievement, one of a handful of riders to win the points jersey in all 3 Grande Tours. Possibly the greatest sprinter in ever, we were witnessing history in the making. Nibali was a worthy champion - I take no pleasure in saying this but I really dont think a fit Wiggins would have got near him. Nibali rode with passion, he rode with heart he rode in a manner alien to Wiggins and the Sky team who operate by numbers and playing the percentages. Nothing wrong with that but no where near as entertaining.
If you take a look at the pic of Cav, black tshirt silver watch leaning over barricade - THATS ME!
And now its announced that Wiggo is out of the TDF. Probably for the best, whether he's injured or not. The way that Sky operate, they need a definitive leader and a committed team. Wiggins was a complication they could have done without.
The city was waking up and the barracades being assembled, and after a short stroll I made base camp on the finish line armed with sandwiches and beer. I wasnt the only English speaker on the home straight who was staking their claim to see Cavendish sprint to the Maglia Rosso - A Scottish couple Claire & Neal, couple of younger back packers and an Aussie.
