Fascinated by the race starting to unfold, we stick with the big screen and watch what happens next while standing in between a big crowd. The six appear to lead the peloton by over four minutes. Tommy Danielson proves me right soon enough: He's by far the best climber in the group and goes for the solo on the ascend of the Monachil. His lead is shrinking fast however, as Gomez Marchante attacks early on the climb. He's accompanied by Kashechkin, yesterday's big loser. From what I saw on the Calar Alto, Di Luca has it bad and has to forfait in the lead group, just as expected.

The other big guns start to chase the lead riders as they threaten some of the lead positions. One thing is different in this chase, the 'Orange-men' of Euskaltel were brilliant yesterday, but nowhere to be seen today. They seem to have missed the break this time. We won't even get in to the 'other orange' of Rabobank.

The peloton is slowly reducing to a small group with favorites. I get a tap on my arm, look to the left and hear a Spanish staccato. I get the general drift of what is meant: "What's the meaning of this race? What's the purpose?", i understand. A little surprised about the apparent ignorance of the Spanish people (Spain's main sports are soccer and basketball), I explain in my best Spanish that it's the Tour of Spain. "Are these local teams and riders then?" is the second question. "No" I answer, "this is a global sport, this is the elite in cycling." "Ah" and a nod of the head acknowledges that it's understood. Still another question about the age of the riders. After checking with Marc I learn that 'vente' is twenty, so I answer "between twenty and forty" because my Spanish doesn't allow for more explanation.

We start trying to find a perfect spot to be able to see the finish. It's quite busy at four thirty, all space seems to be filled up along the barriers. Marc is able to squeeze into a position at forty meters behind the finishline. Someone leaves, so there's room for two now. He beckones me to join him. The only disadvantage is that we can't see the screen from that position. Peter comes back from scouting the finish-zone, he's found a spot from where he can film the finish. The sun's come out and starts to burn on our heads now, as soon as Peter is back we change places. I want to see what happens next on the big screen.

I quicky learn that Danielson is only left with one minute advantage on the chasers, while Vinokourov attacks in the background. He makes up the twenty seconds to his teammate very quickly, Valverde and Sastre can't follow for the first time. Could this be the decision in the Vuelta?The differences remain small though. In the last kilometer Vino attacks again, losing both Marchante and Kashechkin. I can see Danielson reaching the summit first and less than a minute later Vinokourov rides through the arch. The descent brings the two together and they work well together in their quest for keeping the advantage, as they enter the tunnel. As soon as they come out of the tunnel, the image changes to Valverde, who's just entering. I now know exactly what the advantage is: 1.100 meters, the total length of the tunnel. Marc has joined me and asks me how I know. "Well, the road book told me `Túnel illuminado' with the distance. You tend to remember these things when writing and translating the road descriptions."

Don't know how I missed it, but Samuel Sanchez must have ridden a fine climb and a scorching downhill when he comes out of the tunnel in third place with four kilometers to go, even before Valverde and Sastre! I hurry back to Marc and squeeze myself through the crowd to get to the barrier. The first cars start arriving already and park right in front of our position. Marc hopes that that's it, because it will be hard to get good shots now. It's a pity that we're just a little too far behind the finishline for good pictures. The image of the ecstatic Tom Danielson is burnt on my retina, he's really celebrating the 'sprint' win over Vinokourov. Not a minute later we see Sanchez arriving and Marc shouts: "Where did he come from?" Sanchez stops right in front of us, a big smile on his face. He must feel morally good, like the winner.

Celebrating

A standing ovation for Tom Danielson when he's on the podium first. His entrance through the door is like a kid on a 'skippy-ball', bouncing onto the podium, tongue hanging out of his mouth and punching that imaginary hole in the air with his fist. Marc's camera is hindered by raised hands clapping, but that exact photo is in most Spanish newspapers the next day. Meanwhile, we're having a good laugh about Tommy's mannerisms on the podium. He's having the time of his life, receiving the cup, the flowers, smiling, jumping and waving to the crowd. Of course he gets the kisses and completely forgets to walk OFF the podium, probably rejoycing the moment and embracing the best win of his career so far. The organisers need to keep a tight scedule so Tom's gently forced off the stage, but not without Tommy turning around and waving goodbye to the crown again... three times! Riders keep coming across the line, oblivious to what's happening on the podium.

We had a hunch this could happen, and it proves to be the case: The alliance between Danielson and Vinokourov payed off. Vino is the new leader in the Vuelta, the bonus seconds help Alexandre. The buffer to Alejandro is nine seconds now, so Valverde parts with the 'amarillo'. Vino gets the new jersey on the podium and he looks happy too. The Spanish reporter pushes the microphone under his nose and asks questions. My Spanish suddenly seems to have improved considerably when I listen to Vinokourov. The Kazakh rider mutters "Bueno, good for my team". A new question is asked but gets the exact same answer, so the reporter gives up. Applause.

Valverde seems to be still happy when receiving the white jersey, but he can't act differently here; He's cheered on by hundreds of people when coming on the stage, a heartwarming welcome. On asked about his views of the Vuelta he replies: "Oh well, tomorrow's another day and there's only seconds between me and Vino." While he answers he looks very confident still and smiles.
Egoi Martinez comes on to get his orange mountain jersey. We're a little surprised by that, because we're still under the impression that Caucchioli was the leader in that classification. The 'fish' jersey (points) is routinely being collected by big Thor Hushovd again. By now, we've had enough. We're very thirsty from standing in the sun without drinks and decide to find a nice terrace to sit and replenish ourselves. First we 'scout' the departure zone for the next day though, that area is about five hundred meters from our apartment. Time for a drink. Peter shows us the recording of the finish, we enjoy this very fulfilling day.

Internet

While we're at the terrace, Marc spots a tourist information centre. After paying for the drinks we decide to see if it's still open and we're lucky. I wait outside, while Marc and Peter inquire after internet cafe's in Granada. It takes them quite some time to come back out again. When they do, they're accompanied by an English couple, all are laughing. Marc explains the laughter; "The couple wanted to know what route the Vuelta would take the following day, but didn't get anywhere with the lady's information. So Peter asks for a pen and marks the route into the map of the couple in a matter of seconds."After the good deed of the day we part with the English couple wishing them a pleasant stay, and try and find an internet cafe. There are two in the vicinity, we're looking for the closest one of course.

We don't even have to walk far and find the place quickly. Some computers are vacant so we get going straight away. While Peter starts mailing stuff, Marc has some helpdesk activities for the cycling site, the newsfeed doesn't seem to work anymore. I check the result in the competition; bad score. Internal mail from Frank that i'm eighth in the stage the day before. I answer, but it takes me a long time to find the right key strokes on this Spanish keyboard. Onto the chatroom and annoy Wicky a little (all fun though) and instruct Maurice on the German competiton in which I play also, and Email the homefront. Before I know it an hour has passed. Outside, we wipe the sweat off our foreheads, it was pretty hot inside the cafe.On our way home we walk past tomorrow's neutral zone and take a picture. At night we make our plans for the next day, to complete our cycling-party.