Lisbon

Our bus ride from Sagres was pretty quiet, lots of people nodded off for naps.  Upon arrival our bus driver decided he didn't want to make the stop to the hotel as well as the airport, so just went to the airport.  He had some schedule to keep and was being a bit of a jerk to the race staff, so when we went on to collect our luggage and stand at the side of the street a bottle of water accidentally found itself spilled on his seat for the next part of his trip.  Such is life.

Rest of us who didn't fly out that afternoon took taxis to the hotel, only €5, so no biggie.

This is the first time in two visits to Portugal that I've spent any time in Lisbon.  The two Trinnies, an El Salvadoran American, a Philipino American and I took two subway lines then walked around to see the sites in the old part of Lisbon, drank little coffees, beers, and ate internationally standard Indian food for dinner to satisfy our spicy cravings.  Good times had by all and neat city to see.

I ended up sharing my hotel room tonight with a fifty something Colorado based rancher, Greg, who had done the race too and hadn't made a reservation.  He's a total character.  Said what he was thinking without much of a filter.  The Portugese race staff all spoke English in varying degrees of fluency from basic understanding to throwing in surprising words like vertigo and ventriloquist... Funny how those two cropped up during the week.  Having said that, Greg created more than one Portugese face that said "did he just say what I think he said?" as their first instinct was to misjudge their translations... Anyway, Greg likes adventures and seems to have an income and free time balance such that he can seek them out, reminds me a little bit of Jack Funk.

I left early for the airport and found Lisbon cabbies to be generally as confused of a group of people as the rest of the world's cabbies, kind of funny how universal that is. 
Leon is a going on 55 year old Dutch guy who's a good mix to aspire to along with guys like Greg.  Leon is a serious cyclist, and has stories from every race around.  The Russian's nicknamed him Yoda as he bears a little resemblance, plus he's old and wise - helped the Russians with some bike basics one evening.  I asked Leon one night at dinner "Leon, have you been bike racing hard your whole life?".

His response in a germanic tone of factuality "No, only the last 45 years." Sweet.  When the lead group of ten would catch him out on the trail he'd jump into the draft right away and say "ahh, the cutthroats are here, let the suffering begin".

Although I thought the race organization was exceptional, I welcomed checking in to the Lufthansa counter this morning.  Speaking to a German airline employee for no more than 30 seconds gives me a comforting feeling that things are going to work out when they're running the show.  If I'm ever booking connections I'll always favour a leg on Lufthansa.