What does confisquez mean?

I wrote the last post in a sort of tongue in cheek manner when I said I was not disclosing the name of our driver for fear of French legal retribution. Well that was naïve of me apparently, as Thursday morning upon arriving at the finish we were met by a Tour official and learned that our vehicle’s press credential was being revoked and then that the car had been confiscated. Uh….oops.

Roberto and our driver had a bit of a rough day dealing with the Tour officials and we were left with a perplexing problem… short of commandeering bicycles and riding to the next stage, we had no transportation. This is how I came to almost miss stage 18 of Le Tour.

Beth and I were blissfully unaware of the full extent of our transport issues until we arrived at the set with a picnic lunch for everyone, only to find that no one was around. After a while Roberto joined us and filled us in on the happenings of the morning as well as several of his theories as to why they were picking on our group. His most consistent theory is that because of their affiliation with that cyclist from Texas that I mentioned in my last post… certain powers-that-be like messing with them.

Not to in anyway discount Roberto’s theory, but someone (not me of course) might find it possible that racing past about 700 cars including a few police cars, while illegally in the left lane and screaming about the lack of an escort for the press, could possibly, in some small way have contributed. But again, I am naïve in the ways of the Tour and it’s political ins and outs.

Not to fear, Beth and I could surely procure a car after all we were in the bustling metropolis of Saint-Etienne.
The day before Roberto told us that everyone suffers during the tour. Obviously the riders do, and the workers who daily build a village to make the race possible, and not even we, the mooches, are spared it seems. So yesterday Beth and I suffered through Saint-Etienne. We were in our own race. A race to find a rental car in a town where we were told NONE were available and we had between the hours of 1:30 and 5pm to get this done. Miraculously, we completed this task… it was something right out of The Amazing Race and in the end I literally sprinted to the finish the very same moment that Burghardt crossed the line.
Roberto is now forced to ride with me behind the wheel, which is far less adventurous than he is used to. That night we were treated to a fine dinner alfresco with all of the ‘talent’ on the terrace of a lovely chalet where we also spent the night. The drama of the day melted away as we drank bordeaux and enjoyed each other's company.

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