At the pit stop, a tree branch breaks off and lands threateningly on the ground. The Chateau's liability insurer takes a swig off his bottle of brandy. Phil waits at the mat with a mild-looking greeter. Here come Tian and Jaree, fresh from the Fast Forward, and they run up and step on the mat, noting that the Chateau does indeed look just like the puzzle. Welcome, Tian and Jaree, you are team number one. They are happy.
Kelly and BuffJon are having a little trouble navigating to the pit stop. They stop and ask a couple of people, both of whom point and say, "La, la." Rather than assuming that this means "there" in French (or can mean "there," idiomatically), which is what I assumed in spite of my absolute lack of French skills, Jon seems to assume that the people were nutty. "The French are idiots." Man, I'm starting to regret bitching about that twee little "impromptu diplomats" remark so long ago. I could go for a few impromptu diplomats at this point.
The International Society of Clowns and Virgins has been reunited as Millie and Chuck follow Al and ClownJon on the road to the pit stop. The four of them run up to the mat, and Phil actually puts his hands out -- which, as far as I know, is a new defensive maneuver for him -- so that ClownJon doesn't hurl himself into Phil's arms. These teams have tied for second place. Man, can't we do something to get rid of Millie? She is so wearing on me, and she did practically everything on this entire leg wrong, and yet here she is. Bothering me. Go away, Millie.
Next to the mat are an enthusiastic Monica and Sheree. Welcome, Falconettes, you are team number four.
Kelly and BuffJon explain that they got a bum steer to the chateau, which wound up costing them about half an hour. With the teams pretty tightly crammed together, this was -- as BuffJon says -- "all the other teams needed."
Welcome, Chipsters, you are team number five. Oh, ew. Can't we be rid of them, too? The teams I don't like seem destined to have long lives. Welcome, Team Whoooo?, you are team number six.
More of Kelly and BuffJon's hapless driving. More of AirSteve and Dave's hapless driving. Interestingly, after several opportunities for shuffling, these teams that wound up sitting in last place in the Salzburg airport are together again, trailing again. Someone runs up the road to the pit stop, and it's...Jon and Kelly. Welcome, Jon and Kelly, you are team number seven. "Hyeeeaannnh," Jon says unhappily. They are not good navigators, and I fear that is a bad sign.