Les Grimpeurs

Thursday was a lovely day for a change but I decided to spend it inside a small bar off Leith Walk. It was encouraging to see people waiting outside and a table full of wine, cheese, sausage and bread inside. A very small corner of Edinburgh was En fête. The doors opened late with a disappointed owner who was struggling to get TV reception - a problem I tend to associate only with the decades of my childhood. "who's got a freeview box?" is the twenty first century cry. A group of strangers are given free drink, food and start to chat about tactics on the climb and the crash they heard about before they left the house. Oh - and Sastre is 2 minutes ahead in a break: Topics usually lost on friends.

We wait a quarter of an hour but soon all head to another pub on the corner which changes from it's usual men with whippets and racing posts to 20 cycling enthusiasts. The proprietor is a little thrown by the influx but obviously sees the potential. Soon all 4 screens are showing the strained faces of mountain goats pulling their bikes up the highest climbs in Europe - the screen apparently showing static from the cloud they are cycling through. The picture freezes occasionally - another problem from the eighties I thought we'd have overcome - from the same cloud surrounding the camera motorbikes. It adds to the tension. A few more come in to watch Schlek and Contador stare each other out and a few shouts come out as the two approach the last kilometer. I head back to the Tourmalet with the two Irish fellas I've met as well as Laura and a local, well spoken, soak (of which there are plenty in this town) for post match analysis after Schlek pips the Spaniard to the line and eventually head home satisfied.