In output, entertained by some orange touching Asturias, patria querida txistu and the tamboril, happy air of celebration in honor of Samuel, the Tour does not hide his frustration by the storm that does not explode. Looks to the profile of the Aubisque obscured by dark clouds as waiting for a signal, but one of the people, Pau, discourages him: today doesn’t break the storm, perhaps tomorrow, more to the East, on the Plateau de Beille, whose name alone scares. On the Aubisque, so far from the goal of Lourdes, also, indeed, the cloud was diluted in this mist that disorients the cows so much as the passage of the advertising Caravan and pushes them into the asphalt extra work for the sweepers of encouragement, that leave nickel road every day and in an opiate the Europcar tran tran, the team’s leader, Thomas Voeckler, a whose pace, more or less, it is going through the Pyrenees, with what that means. Source of the news:: under the dictatorship of Watts.


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