Leaving the high mountains

After the rest day, a nice ride, laundry, and a ginourmous dinner, we left the high Alps for the old resort city of Aix Les Bains. It is an old resort because somewhere in the city, there are hot springs. We did not find them. Also there is a big casino here. We found that because we stayed right across the street. The photo above is from our 3rd floor balcony at the Savoy.



It was an old family run hotel and just like in books and movies (and TV) the family lives at the hotel with everybody else. When we came back downstairs after dropping off the suitcases, there was Dad, ironing in the dining room (petit dejuener was finished, so the family could have their multipurpose room back). I thought I might like it when we walked in and saw a bike and scooter leaning against the wall by the back door.
The Savoy has seen better days, but our room was large and clean, with the aforementioned balcony, and we those 12 foot ceilings that always seem to be in these places. Worn carpeting didn't detract from it at all.

We owed team HTC Columbia a wheel, so we plugged the address of the team hotel into the GPS, and Jill lead us to a Chateau.
Really.
With their own vineyard.

I don't know whether the teams book their own places or whether the Tour organization does it for them, but the lads were swanking it up. Perfect digs for another day where Cavendish won.
I built a wheel and then we strolled around the grounds:
the lads were still racing, and Jan and Gary (the team mechanics that we know best) practically forced us to go swimming. It felt really good, we saw a thermometer on the way back to our place and it read 38 degrees ( that is pushing 100 in American).

In case you think I am making this up, here are a couple of the Team cars parked around back, were we were working with the team mechanics.
Building the wheel didn't take long, and we had the rest of the late afternoon, so we went for a walk around town before looking for supper. If you have ever been on RAGBRAI with me, then you have stopped into The Office for a refreshing buck-you-uppo. There are more than one bar in small town Iowa named "The Office", as in "hi honey, I'm at the office, and I won't be able to make it home for a little while".
En Francais, "office" is "bureau", and as we strolled the street of Aix-les-Bains, what did I spy across the way but this:


Bon Soir mon cherie, je suis au Bureau. Je nes allez pas pour deux heures. ( i think I got that fairly right, with my limited Francais)

Au Bientot!