Anyone who knows me knows I love cycling

It’s my escape, my meditation, and my time machine

The moment I’m on a bike, I’m 12 years old again, carefree, curious, and completely in the moment

I’ve always been a big fan of the Tour de France

It’s more than just a race; it’s a travelling spectacle of endurance, strategy, and human spirit

In 2007, I had the chance to witness it live when the Tour passed through Arles in Provence

A friend of mine had local connections in Arles, so we didn’t just visit, we experienced it properly

 We stayed with locals, soaked up the culture, and got a taste of real French life

And then came race day

If you’ve ever been to a cycling race, especially one as grand as the Tour, you’ll know it’s not just about the riders

First come the support vehicles, dozens of cars and vans stacked with spare bikes, wheels, and mechanics

Then the media teams zoom past on motorbikes, cameras poised. And finally, the moment everyone waits for: the peloton

The peloton, an elegant blur of colour and motion, flies by at 20 to 30 miles per hour

If you’re lucky, you might spot a breakaway group fighting to stay ahead

Blink, and it's gone

But the energy stays with you

The night before, we toured the route, trying to pick the best vantage point

We weren’t the only ones

RVs were already lined up along the roadside, chalk messages to favourite riders covered the tarmac, and every hill seemed claimed by fans in folding chairs

The best spot? Always on a climb, because that’s where the riders slow down, even if just slightly, and the drama intensifies
That day in Arles was more than just a sporting event, it was a celebration of passion, community, and the magic of movement

Cycling isn’t just a hobby for me; it’s a reminder that life, like the Tour, is best experienced with wind in your face, good people around you, and a road stretching endlessly ahead