Day 2 -- Bordeaux

 Today was to be a rest day to see the sights of Bordeaux and take in the Fete de Vin, which is one of the largest wine festivals of the country. Lowell spent most of the day calling the airport frequently to try and track down Isabelle (his bike and our only lost piece of luggage.)

 In the afternoon I paired up with Tara, whom I’d just met. A tall, spunky marketing genius from Australia by way of St. Louis, Tara suggested we go to Caurfort, a large mall about 10 miles outside of the city to pick up a tent and other supplies which were in the missing bike bag. I agreed, very happy to explore with a spirited adventurer who spoke enough French to get us by.

 We parked ourselves at the tourism office during the midday break (everything closes from 12:30 – 2:00 then reopens for business) and waited for the office to reopen so we could get advice on the best way to reach our destination. By 2:00, a long line had formed behind us, and the official from the tourism office let out an audible groan as he unlocked his office door. Advise from him lead us to a public transportation office a short walk away, who told us a taxi would be the best bet. So, we hopped in a black minivan taxi, and upon asking “combien?” (How much?) the driver smiled, changed the subject and headed for the expressway. Tara leaned into me and said quietly, “Don’t worry, the fare to get to the city last night was only 30 euro for an hour ride. It shouldn’t be more than 6 or 7 euro.” When we arrived, the driver announced “22 euro.” Tara argued vehemently with the driver, and he argued back; I had no clue what he was saying, he was agitated as he waived his arms in the air and yelled at us. I sat there, baking, melting in the black leather seats while the two of them verbally assaulted one another. Finally, after he threatened to take us back, I put my peacemaker hat on and paid the fare. “No problem” I told him, (this seems to be a universal phrase everyone understands no matter what country of origin) and he seemed relieved as I stuffed his hand with paper bills.

 We were in luck as there was a large sporting goods store in the mall with bikes and gear and tents. I purchased a tent, some Power Bars and took note of the bikes just in case Isabelle didn’t show up by tomorrow morning. Tara gave me a lesson in European marketing tactics as she snapped pictures of fixtures and displays in the largest chain store in the city. This girl was truly passionate about the art of marketing!

 Finding our way back to the hotel proved easier than our arrival, as a concierge called a cab for us. Once back in Bordeaux, I checked in with Lowell. Still no Isabelle and by now it was too late to go back to Caurfort to purchase a bike, and we were starting the ride the next day.

 My anxiety was rising at the thought of having to ride alone the next day.

 The World Cup semi-final was televised and we watched it from a bar near the hotel while eating dinner al fresco in the balmy evening air. Every bar, brasserie and restaurant had a big screen TV outside so their guests could enjoy the game outside where there was a breeze. Air conditioning and ice are nearly nonexistent. The city was charged with energy as the sun set and everyone fixated on the game. 

 One by one, individuals and couples with our tour filtered over to watch the game and Lowell introduced me to the crew and other riders he had ridden with during previous years. Total, we have 19 Australians, 2 English, 6 Americans and 1 Israeli, not including the crew of 5 who were from various locales. Late into the evening, some people had just flown in and we were excited and anxious to start the ride the following morning.

Tara showed up near the end of the soccer match with a single red, white and blue stripe painted on her face signifying the French flag. “Ille les bleus! Ille les bleus” crowds chanted during the final quarter. France won and the city broke lose! The echo of TV commentary throughout the city blocks was replaced with loud music blaring, people dancing in the streets, small cars with too many people to count hanging out the windows waving huge French flags, chanting “Ille les bleus!”

 Around 1:00 AM, we filtered back to the hotel, tired, but too excited to sleep, knowing tomorrow we begin our journey.