Oct. 7: Words of Wisdom

(overheard at a Nigerian Bar from one office mate to another)

"I used to pray to God for a bicycle, but I soon realized that God does not work that way.

So, I stole a bike and prayed for forgiveness instead."

Oct. 5: Precious

Of the many things that I was told to do upon arrival, one of the main things that sticks out in my mind is to hire domestic staff. In fact, my company will not allow me to NOT have a driver. I must be driven everywhere. The traffic is terrible - it is much worse than I-10 on a Saturday during the height of its construction while trying to navigate around Beltway 8. But no worries now - I just let the driver deal with all that while I sit back and read, or sleep, or try to process in my mind what it is that I just saw at the last corner behind me. (I actually do not have my own driver yet, but I am taking the "company taxi" provided for us newbies).

The other important thing is to hire a nanny/maid. Lucky for me, my neighbours recommended someone and she started working for me immediately. She is great! I have absolutely no complaints. The only thing that I wish, is that I could say her name without either laughing or feeling like a creep...her name is Precious. I still feel dirty when I say, "Would you mind washing my underwear Precious?"

At first I was only going to hire her half time - afterall, how dirty can I actually be? (do not answer that). But then I figured that I would splurge that extra 20 euro/month and employ her full time. It is awesome! She sterilizes all of my fruits and vegetables (another post), irons all my clothes (including my underwear, and I am pretty sure my socks, but I have not confirmed that one yet), washes everything, makes my bed like they do at hotels, and pretty much anything else to help out. At first I was apprehensive about moving to Nigeria, but I could get used to this!

As an example of her skillz, here are before and after pictures from when I left for work this morning to when I returned this evening.

Before work:


After Work:


Pretty sweet isn't it?!

(If I tried doing this while Jennie and I were living together I do not think that I would be allowed in the same bed as her at night. Now I can do this AND go sleep in a bed that was "preciously" made for me!)

Oct. 4: Did you Miss Me?!

So, for the last 2 months I had big grandious ideas of uploading blog posts from all the things that I did last summer (yeah, remember, that thing that ended a long time ago?) but life has decided to make things very busy, and when things were not so busy, life decided to take away my internet. I have many posts in "draft" mode, which I will publish one day, but I figured I better get on with the here-'n-now. Otherwise it will be Christmas and I will be trying to remember what I did on Sunday, October 4th. So, without any further delay, let's get reaquainted shall we?

On August 23, 2009 I kissed the Mrs. Goodbye and boarded a plane from Calgary back to Paris. She, being pregnant, was not allowed to come with me on my next square on this boardgame that's called Life. (However, she will be pulling a "Go directly to Lagos, if you pass Go collect $200" card in the spring after the baby is born and ready to travel). Ultimately I was headed to Lagos, Nigeria but I had to stop in Paris first and await my Visa.

What was supposed to be a 3 week pit-stop turned into 4.5 weeks. Surprisingly it was not because I had any immigration issues, but because I had to stay in Paris for some "very important meetings". This was a bit of a blessed curse - you see I was quite looking forward to hanging out in Paris, checking emails, catching up on my blog, and basically being a slacker while I waited for my visa. Instead, the boss-man decided to put me to work and make me earn my pay-check (the nerve!). Although I got to delay my eventual depart for Nigeria, my work kept me quite occupied.

Finally on Sept. 22, 2009 I jumped aboard a 1-way plane to Lagos, Nigeria. The first thing I did, of course, was discover the local beer. A lot of Guiness is drunk here, but I seem to see Star more often. They are served in huge bottles (reminds me of Oktoberfest serving sizes - so sorry Andrew, you probably would not be able to handle yourself over here!). When I am with others we often split the bottle so that we have half-a-chance of at least drinking it while it is still cold.


My first week was spent holed up in a hotel (The Millenium). It was a little depressing. My life was dictated by the schedule of the shuttle that picked me up at 8am for work and dropped me back off again at 6:15 in the evening. The next 5 waking hours I was held prisoner within the small confines of my hotel room. Without a gym, local running route (ha ha), tv (unless you count CNN on a loop as TV), or internet my options were limited to reading and watching TV DVD series that I packed from home. I am currently reading Les Miserables, which I bought at the Calgary airport en route to Paris) and have made it to page 800 (only 400 left) - I owe this progress to my solitary confinement. (As an aside, although I am only 2/3 of the way through (ha ha), this is the best book I have read...it is an amazing read!) If I was not reading, you would see me like this (below) burning out on Friday Night Lights. (I watched all 3 seasons in 2 weeks...I told you I burned out!).


Outside of my solitary confinement, I was "working". Well, trying to get everything in place so that I could work would be a better way of putting it. Although we have been planning for this since the spring, I have learned that nothing is done here unless you are physically here. I am, more or less, up and running now. By all standards my installation was lightening quick. My office mates who arrived 2-4 weeks ahead of me are still waiting for things.

While waiting for things to happen, I got to enjoy this view (below) out of our conference room. In most offices that I have worked in before, the conference room is generally a place where a company likes to show itself off a little. Here we show off the neighborhood. (The reflections from the window are quite bad but, trust me, if you look closely you will find 2 cows down there).


Finally on Sunday, Sept. 27 I moved into my new residence.

I am still awaiting my shipment of goods so I am still living out of my 3 suitcases that I packed so long ago. Practically, what does this mean? Well, I have used my towel as a blanket, rolled up clothes for a pillow, and sometimes have to pull double duty on my underwear to make them last until my next round of laundry. Thankfully, I have some great neighbors who have lent me some bed linens and a pillow that have dramatically improved my nights! They also had me over for dinner on my birthday (oh yeah, that happened somewhere in the mix too - I never knew 31 would be this exotic!).

The first couple of days at my flat were tough since it was given to me in disgusting condition. It was dirty and the workers (i.e. squatters) who were supposed to fix my tub left cigarette butts and ash all over the place. Since I was not yet moved in, I have good reason to believe that these workers and families lived in my place before I arrived. (Yeah - high five to my security for keeping a tight wrap on things like that!). Furthermore, I discovered that I was not given all of my keys - one had magically gone missing. (I am learning that many things "magically" happen here in Nigeria...or "magically" do not happen - whichever is the worst thing for you!). After replacing all the locks, I could start enjoying the sunset view from my dining room a little more.


Being out of the hotel I better opportunity to venture out and start exploring the "city" (well, the little radius of the city that I am allowed to explore anyhow). Future posts, I am sure, will have many adventures to add on this! People are always sitting on the corners, or walking in the traffic trying to sell something - here is a fruit and vegetable stand not far from work.


And, alas, we have arrived to today. I am starting to discover my stride and am learning that although things are very different, you can still enjoy some of the comforts of home. Take my breakfast for example.


And after breakfast, I played a solo game of Le Havre. I have been looking forward to this all week - sort of my weekly reward for making it through the entire week!


Later I went to the store and you will never believe what I saw...!!!


Texas' own right here in Lagos! Now here is a question - how much do you think it cost? If you said 18 euros (~$25) then you win! Needless to say, I never bought any!

There you have it! Welcome to Lagos and welcome to my new life!

Tuesday, July 21: TdF - Day 3

Today everybody woke up a little extra giddy than the past few days. The reason was simple – we were going to watch the Tour de France live and in person today! I thought that it was a little ironic that my first live experience of the TdF would occur in Italy as we were planning on watching the tour somewhere along the ascent of Col du Petit Saint Bernard. Today’s stage started in Switzerland in Martigny, cut through Italy, and ended back in France at Bourg Saint Maurice.

We left our hotel in Les Houches, drove through the Mt Blanc tunnel and arrived in Pre St. Didier, Italy. This allowed me to check off another new country off my list. My impression of Italy so far – it looks just like France.

Today’s ride started in Pre St. Didier, which was also the base of the Category 1 Col de Petite Saint Bernard.

Most riders in the group agreed that it was not the grade of the climb (average = 5.4%) that made it a category 1 but its length (23 km). The objective today was simple – just climb. The elevation profile of the ride clearly illustrates the daunting task ahead.

I started off by myself just spinning and getting into a rythym. Although most of the “good riders” agreed that the gradient of the climb was not steep , I found it plenty steep for me. (Perhaps I am the most out of shape rider in the group? Or perhaps I am the most honest?)
It was quite exciting to be climbing the very road that the best cyclists in the world would be riding just hours later. Near the base of the climb there were spots of people camped out and eagerly waiting the tour. These spots turned to thick throngs of campers, cars, tents and TdF enthusiasts near the summit. The practiced their cheering as I rode past, which made for a sweet experience.

There were many other cyclists on the mountain that were also looking for the same experience. I was surprised by how many cyclists there were – all searching for bragging rights to say they too rode the same climb that would be broadcast worldwide later that day.

All of these thoughts ran through my head as I just concentrated on grinding each mile after mile. I am quite sure that you learn a lot about what kind of person that you are on these types of adventure. Some people like to take their time, stop for pictures, and make the ride up as “relaxing” as possible. Others like to race up against others for bragging rights. Myself, I just wanted to ride from bottom to top without stopping. That was my challenge. I figured I could sight-see on the descent.

3D View of Col du Petit Saint Bernard. The Yellow line is the Italy-French border, which is at the summit.

84 minutes later I crossed under the polka dot banner signifying the top of the climb. I had done it! To make sure that the ride would be a proper challenge I packed up a bottle of champagne and some plastic stemware to have a champagne toast to celebrate. One of the Aussies in the group told me that was something that an Aussie would talk about doing but would be too lazy to actually do it. So he made me an honorary Aussie. He also mentioned that if this is what I would do for this climb he is scared to think about what I will do to celebrate Mt. Ventoux in a couple days.

It seems that most (all?) people think that my bike is really heavy and they think I am crazy for what I pack around in it (i.e. champagne). But none of them seem to mind the champagne toast. And after being one of the first people up the climb (7th in the group), their joking is definitely out of respect.

After the toast I pointed my bike in the opposite direction from which it had been pointed all day and finally let gravity start to work for me. The throngs of people, the fact that the road was still open, and the sure length of the descent did not make it as enjoyable as I had imagined it might have been. I did, however, stop twice for two great photo ops.

The first was with Dido – the ever famous guy that you see on TV every year dressed as the devil. He has the reputation for being overly stinky, but he must have showered recently because I was still able to get quite close without any sensory damage (or perhaps I have gotten used to hanging around stinky French people for the past year and a half?).

The second was with some fellow Canadians. That maple leaf always does my heart good.

Back down in Pre Saint Didier I met back up with Jennie. We positioned ourselves just off the base of the climb to watch the tour. Before the tour comes the caravan, which is really quite an experience in itself. The cars fly by with people just throwing freebies hard down on the road infront of you. It is like being involved in a drive-by shooting but instead of dodging bullets you are diving away from sugar candies, dried sausage, and key chains.

The men of the tour arrived about an hour later. I made the mistake of telling the people that I was with that I got shivers up my spine seeing them go by. They thought that it was funny that men in lycra gave me the shivers…

Team Astana leading the charge. Lance Armstrong is the fifth person back wearing the black helmet. Alberto Contador is in the yellow.

Mark Cavendish (Team Columbia) is in the center. The sprinters like to huddle together for support and security in the mountains. For them it is a matter of survival.

One of the team cars following the riders.

What a great experience – I cannot wait to do it again tomorrow!

People are now just starting to call me “Dangerous”. (I am sure my kid will read through this someday and think, “surely they are not talking about MY dad.”

A+

Monday, July 20: TdF - Day 2

Today’s final destination is Chamonix. Actually, the people who paid full price get to stay in Chamonix - the rest of us are bunking in Les Houches ("Les Hoochies" is what I prefer), just outside of Chamonix. To break up the day, we started by riding the first 50 miles from our hotel in Beaune to Cluny.

The Fonz has nothing on me...Haaaaaaaaaay. Getting Ready to depart.

In Cluny we had lunch, a red neck shower, which consists of squeezing the remaining water from my water bottle over my dirty bits for a little rinse. It is important to clearly distinguish the water bottle from the gatorade bottle BEFORE you start cleaning - you do not need your cheeks sticking to the bus seat for the remaining 4 hour bus ride Les Houches.

The ride is shown on the left in blue (point-to-point from North to South). We drove the remainder to Chamonix (bottom right).

After yesterday’s hammer-fest I decided to start the ride with the “slow group.” It was a beautiful, sunny day for a ride – riding through the French country side with the sun shining down on you is the most fun you can have with lycra on. As Ms. Beckistan would say, “you got to punish the lycra”.

As it turns out, the “fast group” took a wrong turn and had to repass us further down the road. They went from being called the “fast group” to the “development squad” or the "soft tops". When they caught back up I decided to jump on and join them since their new names that we had bestowed upon them were no longer intimidating to me. (Whereas before I had given them nicknames like White Goodman in Dodgeball..."and there riding up front is Blazer, sitting next to him is Lazer, followed by Tazer..."

It was all good until the first crash of the day, which occurred just two bikes ahead of me. We were approaching a climb and, as it appeared to me, when the riders got out of their saddles to start digging into the climb there was a little rubbing of tires. (Sometimes a little rubbing is a good thing, but not in this case...). Two people went down, some flesh was used to patch a few holes in the road and, thankfully, that was about it.

After this incident I figured I better ride with the “slow group”. Perhaps this more casual group would decrease my risk of going ass over tea kettle in the French countryside. Again, all was going smooth until the second crash of the day. I was near the back when suddenly the whole group infront of me slowed in the middle of the track. Everyone was touching their brakes or slowing for some reason. The ripple effect to the back of the group had disasterous consequences. I hit the bike in front of me (who happened to be ridden by the guy who started calling me Dangerous Dave) and got thrown from my bike.

Having been in this precarious situation before I instinctively unclipped my left foot, skied along the pavement with me cleat while unclipping my right foot as my bike hit the pavement and skidded between my legs. Miraculously I ended up on both feet with my bike lying beneath me. Unfortunately the lady behind me did not have quite the same performance on her dismount. When the peloton slows/stops without warning the back of the peloton is definitely put at risk. To avoid these situations tomorrow I think I will just go for the yellow jersey and let all the people behind me worry about the perils of the peloton. The tips of the ladies fingers got chewed up pretty bad...she is now known as "claw".

Was it coincidence that I was at the scene of both accidents in the two different groups? “Dangerous Dave” is really starting to catch on. (But seriously, by all accounts and witnesses, I was not at fault for either accidents…I swear).
It has also been suggested to me that I should have a little scoreboard on my “suitcase” on the back of my bike so people riding around me will be fully aware of the risk they are taking when riding next to me. Since the first accident occurred infront of me, the group on the bus has decided that my score is 1.5.

It is a rest day in the TdF so Astana can perhaps have a little team building after yesterday's "fireworks". Unfortunately for Lance, I think the fireworks came from the wrong person!

View from our hotel room.

Les Houches.

Jennie in Les Houches.

Me in Les Houches.

A+ from Les Houches.

Sunday, July 19: TdF - Day 1

Today my new friends and I left Paris en route to Beaune. Beaune is about a 3 hour bus ride away, which allowed plenty of opportunity to “bus-bond” with everyone.

Loading the bus in Paris.

While it seemed that the front half of the bus was enjoying the quiet tranquility of the French countryside, which lulled them to sleep, we were in the back half of the bus with the more rowdy crowd (led by big Geoff and his crazy toe slippers (shoes?)). I was hoping to catch a bit of a snooze myself but sitting in front of Geoff all but guaranteed that would not happen!

We were dropped off 27 miles from Beaune giving us all the opportunity to “stretch our legs” through the vineyards and country roads into town.

Dave had mentioned to me (later in the tour) that there is always one guy on these tours who rides a really old bike (mine was the oldest - or as I prefer to say, "the most classic") and has not bought new bike gear since the florescent phase. Hmmm...it looks like I am "that guy". Might as well ham it up a bit.

Yep, I am definitely "that guy".

I somehow managed to get caught up with the front guys where, starting with the first climb the hammer was dropped and remained that way all the way into town. The only reason why I was able to keep up was because the really phenomenal climbers who chewed up the first hill decided to descend and reclimb the hill so (in their words) they could “keep warm”.

The first climb seemed to take most people by surprise. - it was a little longer and steeper than "we" (?..or maybe it was just "me"). It was an abrupt reminder that my vacation has now begun...hmmm - something seems wrong with that statement. I am hoping that it awoke some of the deep muscles that have not been used in a long time in time for the alps in a few days!

The countryside was phenomenal! Beaune, being the center of the burgundy wine country, meant that the whole ride rolled through the beautiful surrounding vineyards. A strong headwind motivated me to keep up with the fast guys infront (Brian and Dave) because, although I am used to generating a lot of hot air myself, the last thing that I wanted to do was to battle the wind solo.

A point-to-point ride gauranteed that the wind would always be against us.

I finished the day hoping that every ride will not be like this one! Sure it is great to throw down the hammer from time to time, but with the mountains looming ahead I was not so keen to do it on day one! Either way, it seemed that most people were just trying to figure out the group dynamics. From what I could tell you had two groups:

1. The Tazmanian Devils who were here for training

2. The rest of us.

Jennie stayed on the bus with her new found friends and barely beat us into town. Upon arrival the very next priority was to find a little pub where we could watch the Tour de France. We were all excited to see the stage since Lance promised “fireworks” on his Twitter page. (This information was brought to us by "Team Livestrong" (aka Jim and Angela) in the back of the bus. This was to be the first of many such instantaneous twitter updates.). There were fireworks alright – it looks like the tour has entered a new era – The Contador Era! Finally, the tour is getting exciting…or is it already over?

A few more beers in the beautiful Beaune town square with my new French buddy Francois (who was being overwhelmed by the Australian contingent of our group before I arrived), nice dinner in a cave restaurant, and I was knackered!

Jennie in beautiful Beaune.

Of note, my bike seems to be getting a lot of attention amongst the group. I am still getting a lot of flak for having my “suitcase” (i.e. my “small” saddle bag) tied to the back but they all love my “old school” bike. Glenn told me that I “make uncool cool”. I am pretty sure it was a compliment…but stay tuned!

I have also been given the title of “Dangerous Dave” from Paul. That’s right Ice man…I am dangerous!

A+

July 18: TdF Stage 0 - Prologue

Ok, ok, for those of you that follow the Tour de France (TdF) you are well aware that the tour is well beyond the original prologue stage, which occured in Monico nearly 2 weeks ago. However, today I joined a big group of strangers who have all traveled to Paris to follow the TdF through the Alps. We will catch up with the tour on Tuesday, but in the meantime we are just enjoying riding in France while we travel down to join the tour. Since today was the first "get to know each other" kind of ride and an opportunity for all the travellers to stretch out their kinks I will refer to it as our prologue.

I had a distinct advantage of living in Paris so I was able to ride to the hotel to meet the group. Already they think I am a little strange, whatever - after dealing with frenchies for the past year I am more than used to being the outsider!

I am really excited about the next week. It is really awesome to be around a group of like-minded people who are all totally into the TdF and keen to ride. Right now I am sitting in the hotel bar, watching the tour, hearing everybody discuss the tour and getting excited about it, and drinking a beer with my gal...vacation has indeed started!!

I rode 22 miles from my place to the hotel, which is beside the airport. Jennie joined me later with our bags.

As a group we rode an additional 25 miles around the countryside from the hotel.

Today's ride total: 47 miles

TdF total: 47 miles

A+