JOURNAL DE NUIT: PART DEUX
We hand over the reigns to guest columnist Harry, who has provided the finest week 2 recap as the Tour de France hits the Alps.
SECTIONS
STAGE EIGHT
STAGE NINE
STAGE TEN
STAGE ELEVEN
STAGE TWELVE
STAGE THIRTEEN
STAGE FOURTEEN
To catch up on stages 1-7 of the Tour de France as told via Journal de Nuit, click here.
Bonne nuit, buenas noches & buona sera to my fellow luxury sports fans. Je m’appelle Harry, I’ll be taking over from Papa Zuppa for Part Deux of the Journal De Nuit. Strap in for some late-night cranial ramblings that have well and truly made me risk it all on the train ride in to work.
STAGE EIGHT
Saturday 03/07, 9:30pm AEST
OYONNAX → LE GRAND-BORNAND
150.8KM (MOUNTAINS)
One for the skinny bois, 5 categorized climbs, the last 3 of which are 1st category. I swear I could see Cav quietly whisper “Ay, dios mio” to himself on the start line.
Wet, cold, a proper Yorkshire bollocks kind of day. We’ve all been there. Your alarm goes off, you look out your bedroom window at the glisteningly wet street outside, you feign apology as you text your riding buddy, “Sorry, woken up with a headache, I'll have to give this one a miss.” You both know you’re full of shit, and everyone’s okay with that.
My highlight of the stage was Ion Izagirre ending up in some poor Grande mere’s sitting room. I don’t blame him, I imagine most of us probably would have popped in for a cuppa tea on a day like that too.
We then witnessed what we’ve all known was inevitable. The Pog endowed some scintillating attaques upon his comparatively meek GC compatriots. What I can’t wrap my head around is that these fellas are among the best cyclists in the world, finely tuned specimens that can all win big races on their day, and The Pog makes it look like he’s racing Boris Johnson and the bloke behind the counter at your local fish & chip shop. There are levels to this stuff.
Chapeau Dylan Teuns, putting in some big watts to take a very classy stage win.
STAGE NINE
Sunday 04/07, 9:05pm AEST
CLUSES → TIGNES
144.9KM (MOUNTAINS)
I can only imagine the fine folk at the French Federation for French Tourism (FFfFT) are sitting at their French desks in Paris shaking their French heads. An annual event that’s essentially a license to print money for France is being dampened (if you will) by some mighty big rain clouds. It’s not supposed to rain in France, Chateaus aren't waterproof.
Oh well, the race goes on. The oldest man in the pro peloton, Nario Quintana (born. 1943) was up the road with Subiaco native Ben O’Connor putting in some fine work to put some 9 minutes into the Pelo.
This one had me flabbergasted. The pace was cruisey. Everything was in order, and then Brandon McNulty goes and rides into a bush. Thankfully, Brandon got back on his Colnago and continued the stage toute suite. But not before a few head scratches from some confused fans.
Benno O’connor-o went long range, soloing to perhaps the most impressive Australian race win since Hayman’s Roubaix. I’m sure we’re all very excited for what the future holds for Ben, at only 25, he’s in for some big things.
While we’re here. That AG-Deux-Er Citroen jersey is unreal. Is it the best kit in the Pro Pello this year? I’d be keen to hear your thoughts. Those brown bibs are even starting to grow on me after AG2R have worn them for the last 400 years.
STAGE TEN
Tuesday 06/07, 8:55pm AEST
ALBERTVILLE → VALENCE
190.7KM (FLAT)
Stage Dix is upon us, and this one is flat – hella flat. While it is their job and they’re paid handsomely for the pleasure, it must make a rider mildly to moderately sad when their team director asks them to hop in a breakaway on a stage like this. What’s your chance of making it? Pretty much the same chance I have of getting a last-minute call up for England against Italy next week. I’m not even English.
I faded in and out of restful slumber on a relatively uneventful stage, each time awaking to the sultry glances of El Tractor Tim Declerq tapping away at the front of a peloton content to let the big fella do so.
I’m glad i made it to the end of the stage though. Quickstep’s leadouts this year have been an absolute joy to behold. I’m not into Ballet, but watching Asgreen, Ballerini, Morkov & Cav elegantly weave their way through technical finishes, as if they’re going for a Sunday jog, is pure class. It almost makes the self-bestowed ‘Wolfpack’ moniker tolerable.
Almost.
Chapeau gents.
STAGE ELEVEN
Wednesday 07/07, 8:40pm AEST
SORGUES → MALAUCÈNE
198.9KM (MOUNTAINS)
Happy Ventoux day everyone. Each November when the Tour’s Parcours is released, I scan the press release looking for 2 words, Ventoux & D’huez (does the D count as a separate word). Last November I was 50% stoked to see Ventoux on the route. No Alpe D’huez, merde. Not to worry, can’t always have it all. But then I looked at the Ventoux stage profile. Surely a misprint, there’s no way they…my heavens they do it twice.
The sheer gall of Prudhomme to come up with a stage like that. You could just hear Cav quietly whisper to himself for the second time, “Ay, Dios Mio.”
Out of GC contention but ever the spirited rider, Julian “Loulou” Alaphillipe animated the early breakaway, along with a host of talented climbers. How can you not love watching Alaphillipe race?
Wooty Vanooty (sic) joined in the fun, seemingly wishful thinking from a man that wouldn’t look out of place playing centre back for Brugge FC.
Boy was I proven wrong. Wout kept contact with La Tete de la Course over the first passage of the Giant of Provence, only to then ride away from his remaining breakaway compatriots with class & poise, undoubtedly one of the most impressive stage wins we’ve seen in a long time.
This may be premature, and those that know me know I'm one for an outrageous hot take, but Wout may just be the most complete cyclist we’ve seen since Merckx. The man can sprint, he can time trial, he can climb, and to top it all off, he has UNBELIEVABLE hair. He even seems like a super nice guy. It’s just not fair.
STAGE TWELVE
Thursday 08/07, 9:10pm AEST
SAINT-PAUL-TROIS-CHÂTEAUX → NÎMES
159.4KM (FLAT)
Ever look at the number of syllables in a French town name and think, “are they taking the piss?”. Saint-Paul-Trois-Chateau, three hyphens. THREE. Unbelievable. I love it.
It’s like the final boss of Sydney private school barrelled-doubled surnames. You can just see him. James Saint-Paul-Trois-Chateau, he lives in Mosman, Dads a lawyer & Mum a partner at KPMG, and boy will he let you know about it.
It’s always fun watching days where the peloton lets the breakaway do their thing, after some hectic days in the mountains, you can’t blame them.
Great to see another young Australian leaving his mark on the race. Harry Sweeney put in a rider well beyond his years, nearly coming away with a stage win. To make the final cut with Big daddy Stefan Kung & Nils Politt, and not look out of place, very impressive stuff.
Nils Politt’s brilliant facial expressions as he solo’d to a stage win will forever have free real estate in my noggin. Love it.
STAGE THIRTEEN
Friday 09/07, 9:25pm AEST
NÎMES → CARCASSONNE
219.9KM (FLAT)
Can we have a chat real quick? I know this is not new news, and maybe I’m just a bit slow to the party, but it feels wrong to not talk about it.
Whatever Quickstep is paying Michael Morkov.
Double it.
TRIPLE IT.
It doesn’t matter, give him whatever he wants.
The man is a maestro. Picasso on two wheels, the Andre Rieu of bike sports. Watching Michael Morkov in a leadout is like watching Magnus Carlsen play chess. He’s playing Fabiano Caruana in the Chess World Championship final. Caruana is a prodigy himself, a generational talent who’s been a Chess GrandMaster since he was 14. And he might as well not even be there. He doesn’t stand a chance. Such is Carlsen’s prodigious talent, he beats Caruana with such ease, it’s almost magical, a sight to behold.
That’s what watching Morkov do his thing feels like.
Stage 13 was an absolute masterclass in leadout-man shithousery. Without even a sideways glance he knew Cav had lost his wheel to Michael Matthews. Does Morkov panic? Never. He lets Bellerini’s wheel go. As Bellerini sails clear of the charging peloton, Morkov’s face seems to say to the other sprinters “What, you’re going to let that bloke win?” He was always in control.
Nils Eekhoff is forced to the front, Morkov calmly surfs across to his wheel.
Ivan Cortina, no hack in a sprint himself, then has to put in maximal effort to close the gap to Bellerini. What does Morkov do? Same thing, calmly surfs across to his wheel. Dropping Cav off at the Boulangerie’s front door with a touch over 100m to go. They never stood a chance. A sight to behold.
My nan could have won the stage with a lead out like that. I applaud you Michael Morkov. The king of leadout shithousery.
STAGE FOURTEEN
Saturday 10/07, 10:00pm AEST
CARCASSONNE → QUILLAN
183.7KM (HILLY)
Into the Pyrenees. Another day for the breakaway. Today’s break was filled with more climbing talent than you could find at Everest Basecamp. Wout Poels, Guillame Martin, Rusty Woods & Bauke Mollema to name a few. A star-studded cast of one-time GC hopefuls.
Much to the delight of cycling fans everywhere, today’s stage proved that long-range attacks are alive & thriving. With a touch over 42km to go, Bauke attacked on a descent, as his breakaway compatriots were left glaring at each other, watching Mr Mollema sail off into the distance. Ciao Bellas.
And so ends part two of our sleep deprived Tour de France watching experience. We’d like to personally thank Harry for dealing with the highs and lows that come with watching late night bicycle racing and living a normal, healthy life, all in the name of producing this journal. We now hand over the final week to Aaron, who will see us home to Paris over the remaining stages.
À bientôt!