Days, maybe even weeks,
the anticipation was building
as barriers appeared,
local regulations posted.

On the day, hours were counted,
homes left on time to avoid
the blocked off streets
then, groups of support cars passed by
from teams, organisers, the press;

Finally, in less than 30 seconds
the peloton rode by.

A few days ago, the pro-cycling peloton rode by our house in the second stage of the Paris-Nice race. It's one of the bigger spring classics, early in the season, so there were some big names in the peloton. I really like cycling. I love to watch it, especially the Tour de France. For the amazing shots on tv, for the strategic gameplay, for the epic battles on the mountain sides or the cobbled stones, or the flat and windy roads in The Netherlands and Flanders. But I mostly enjoy them in the moment. I don't plan ahead for it.

Then, barriers started to appear in the street here. Placed for near-future use. A few days later, a notice was attached to them: this road will be closed off, and parking prohibited for the Paris Nice cycling race. Excitement. The peloton passing our house. That's nice. It appeared they would start in the neighbouring town, then drive through our town, across the river and then towards the actual race start. Funny thing in pro cycling: the first kilometers (I estimate this time it was about 15) are a stroll from the virtual start (where they start pedaling) to the actual start line (where they start racing). So, the pack would pass our hous in a stroll, all together. That stroll, by the way, is somewhere between 30 and 40 km/h.

The anticipation rose, and I was home on that day. I waited outside and first saw some police passing by. Then the roads were really closed off. Next came the support vehicles. Cars adorned in team colours, with bikes on their roofs. Each team has more of those than that there are riders in course. They came by in groups. Mixed in the cars of the organisation. Technical support, VIPs, organisers. Also the press. On motorbike, in radiocars. This all in waves of a total duration of about 45 minutes.

More anticipation was building. I could see relatively far down the road. A straight stretch. A bit of electricity in the air: they were coming. Motards of press and police in front. Then the red car of the race director and immediately behind.

And zoom. They were gone. Into the distance. Not yet racing, unrecognisable greats of the sport flashing by.

More support cars followed.

Then the team buses.

And finally the people taking down the signs.

Roads opened again, as if nothing had happened.

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Poésie de la vie

Every year, in June, some crazy Dutch people cycle, run, or hike up the Alpe d'Huez mountain in the French Alps. This year, there will be 5000 of them in the Alpe d'Huzes event. Some go up multiple times. Up to 6 for the cyclists, up to 3 for the hikers and runners. Why they do this? For the personal challenge? Likely, To raise money for cancer research? Definitely. Most participants have lost someone to this disease. And this is a brilliant way of raising funds and awareness for cancer research.