Intending to watch the morning mist rise over the hills, I plopped down with a bad coffee outside the Cafe de la Poste in Robion. Instead I arrived just in time for the morning dew to settle, wetting everything within reach. Tracing a quiet route along the base of the mountains and up the canyon I reached Col du Pointu, greeted by a frigid wind. Despite every attempt to divert in search of the morning’s shelter, it would vex me the remainder of the day. Jenn had mentioned traffic into Aix was unpleasant, so I did my best to choose small roads, double tracks and, as I approached the city, neighborhoods. Coming across a wide, smooth, quiet road through the hills outside town I passed one, another and a third cycling peloton, all with team car in tow. A yellow sign indicated this road would be used for a race tomorrow.
