Ten hours til the cameras come on? Dang... well, with any luck I may spend something close to half of those asleep. Dreaming of the big stage, the day you could've circled on your calendar in December. Dreaming of Alberto Contador suffering a hiccup -- nothing drastic or injurious, just a little hunger knock or jour sans that throws this Tour wide open. We are already headed for an incredible showdown for the second and third spots, the white jersey and maybe green too. Wouldn't it just beat all if we could throw the yellow into the blender too?
Anyway, I don't want people wondering where to go for a nice chat overnight (or midday, for you Aussies), so carry on here.