Morning of...

Yeah, waking up, that bed sucks. I feel like somebody just beat the shit out of me, kicking my feet out from under me, and repeatedly kicking me in the back until I tapped out.

Went to get the free breakfast and it was a bit of a disappointment. Cafe con leche in a bowl with little packaged croissaints to dip.

Ah, part of the mystery is solved. Some of the cross bars under the thin mattress are missing.

I have to admit that things aren't off the a fabulous start. Yesterday everyone was more or less grumpy. And it's the little team things that are missing, like everyone trickling to breakfast at different times. But then again a lot of the team don't really know each other sometimes. We seem to go through the same cycle every vuelta. Lots of little smalltalk until we have the chance to get to know each other during the long hours spent on the bike and in the hotel room.

But I prefer a cycling team that is able to act like a Spartan army. Well drilled and ready to fight until death.

Things start to get nervous too. You can see all the team cars swarming around, the race officials, the CocaCola tent giving away free stuff, the dozens of police motorcycles... the whole shebang. Gets your blood going a bit, knowing what's ahead.