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We were at Tirreno–Adriatico in March 2015. Oleg wanted us to be pushing every day. We had Alberto Contador as leader, and Oleg wanted us to be challenging Nairo Quintana for leadership of the race at every moment, while Bjarne was all for taking a more cautious approach so early in the season. He gestured to the points jersey that I was wearing and the couple of stages I had won, but basically ignored Oleg. And there is nothing Oleg hates more than being ignored. After one stage, Oleg came to the team hotel in the evening to exert his authority. He was furious to discover that Bjarne had gone out for dinner with friends elsewhere. After kicking lumps out of furniture for a couple of hours, he finally confronted Bjarne, completely oblivious, when he showed up outside the team bus. They had a raging argument right then and there in front of everyone. There were other teams, race officials, and journalists present, you name it.

After the race, I was feeling OK. A bit fatigued, but I figured all this hard work so early in the season was good preparation for the classics. As ever, the first of these would be Milan–San Remo—La Classicissma, La Primavera, and a race I thought I could win—in just a few days, so instead of going back to Monte Carlo, my girlfriend, Katarina, and I went to stay with Bjarne and his family at his place in Switzerland. I was still tired all the time, but it was a great handful of days: riding on hard, clean surfaces, not much traffic, calm guidance from Bjarne, and lovely food at his house in the evening. Plus, because I was with Bjarne, I didn’t have to speak to Bobby every two minutes: “What does your piss smell like today, Peter? Can you count the hairs on your big toe for me, Peter?”