PORTALET, People 
approached me and offered me an energy bar. I did not know anything, but there it was, beside me. I accepted it gladly with a "thank you", containing almost breathing and swallowing. There should be more than 30 years, or so it seemed. Her blonde hair was just dropped to half back, and the wind played among her curls, keeping pace with its elegant pedaling. Go to class! His jersey tops, and shorts set, insinuating her beautiful body. His legs are dark and strong, were the admiration of everyone who passes us. A beautiful girl who, under his sunglasses, I outlined a shy smile. We were about to enter the last mile to crown the Portalet. Maybe he saw something hit me, otherwise normal, at least for me, at this stage of progress. And, as every year, there was, surrounded by thousands of cyclists who like me, fulfilled the dream of seeing us there, riding around this beautiful hill, under the encouragement of hundreds of people, friends and relatives who have settled in ditches, to give us encouragement in these last thousand meters of port, creating a festive atmosphere as if it were the Tour himself. My feelings are the same as ever: to see me there, bringing the Portalet again, but as if no time had passed and there was forever climbing, looking back and contemplating the beauty of the harbor with its beautiful green meadows, creeks, blue sky, and the background the road, plowing through the mountains, with a string of cyclists, both front and back, raising many a weary step, others at a better pace, and some, at least, as true Bikes. In this scenario we all fit. I do not know why but this girl never left my side and several were many times I encouraged her to continue at your own pace, no doubt because it looked like a shot. But always declined the invitation, preferring to Coroners together the port. "Just okay" "he said. An angel, that's what it was, an angel bike ... what style, what elegance, what a beauty ... And I always carry as well, the same development with which he had raised the Marie Blanque ... Passing landmark order by "last mile", I encourage you something else, under a couple of teeth and sit on the bike, hitting some pedaling on "Bailon." I did not know how, but he would not look bad in front of the girl ... And so, at a more cheerful, we were talking, "pushed" by the breath of the crowd, mostly Basques, with its flags flapping in the wind, its colors and their cries ("took the Brit, took the Brit, champions ...") we were fueling the rise. What hobby Basque! Certainly for me, the best in the world. At this point the crowd is impressive port. Motor caravans parked on the roadside, cars, tents, camping chairs and tables, umbrellas ... everything goes to see one of the largest cycling events in the world. Someone approached me and offered me a slice of melon! "No, no, thanks" I tell him kindly, and I still remember the last time you ate melon in a march and then drank water, I spent a week with gastroenteritis low! Now there are a few that are at our side ("took the Brit, took the Brit ..."). Of course if something like the Tour for the bike, certainly find it here. 500 meters and crowned. This year it seems that at this stage we do better. The wind that had punished us both in the rise to Somport, and cold, had been on our side, echándonos a hand in this final stretch, accompanied by a sun that is appreciated, as not too hot. We were at a temperature ideal for cycling, and unlike other years in the Portalet us alive cooked. Despite this, the sun was warm enough for many to leave the air show off their bodies, being red like shrimp, especially some girls in bikinis carrying since I do not know what time palm looking to enjoy many cyclists is entertained with the beautiful view. And so on, my companion and I, collecting many of the offerings of the fans: water, a coca-cola, some Aquarius ... all chilly, what feels good. Some young and not so young, enjoy their particular "bottle", drinking beer, but always shouting and cheering, encouraging ... never tire! "What a show!" The girl said to me, "just enjoy this atmosphere it's worth coming here." And it shows scenes of everything from the cyclist who, lying in the road, make him a massage, from which he stops to greet the family, or to kiss the bride (nice!), the receiving phone calls ("quiet baby, I'm about to crown the Portalet ..."), who, exhausted, tell your bike "look at you well the landscape, it is the last time you pass by here. " Exaggerated ... you when you get home and are looking forward to returning next year. People are still carrying on wings and pushing up, encouraging ever more ("Come, come, two hundred meters and you are", "Come champions," took the Brit, took the Brit ... "" Come brave, there is nothing "... .) People are still offering everything from newspapers to drop, more melons, more water ... Some even want us to "push" literally, "no, no, please ...." Nor do we know the times that we will have today thanks to all those people that inspires us. It's awesome. And indeed, there is nothing, and I'm still the angel beside me is stealing the heart and the jelly people "pretty, pretty! Polita neska! ". 100 meters and above. Already see the end. Cycled by a human corridor, how could it be otherwise, a fine specimen of bearded plans majestically over our heads. Idyllic surroundings. Accelerate, quickened the pace and ... it's over. We crowned. There is a huge crowd. We are at the border. Stop a moment to put on my raincoat because we sense that in the fall will be fresh. I turn to thank my faithful companion in these wonderful thousand feet of ascent, and that had not been the same without your company. I do it to see if it will also entertain or not. I turn and not see it. The look and nothing. It is not. As it appeared has vanished. Will the decline begun? Impossible ... Is there been a mirage? A dream? Any appearance? Or perhaps an angel? Too bad, I wanted to have asked his mobile number and even told me his name.
