After years of watching Paris Roubaix and Paris Roubaix Femmes from the comfort of the sofa, today, we finally watched the racing from the side of the cobbles, on the Mons-en-Pévèle sector.
Sometimes events fail to meet expectations, yet today blew our expectations out of the water, and left us wondering why it had taken so long to make the journey north, to watch the races in person.
There is always something special about watching a pro-cycle race from the roadside, and last summer we spent the day on Mont Ventoux What an incredible day it was
And the experience is so different to anything you see on TV. There is something about spending a day, surrounded by other cycling fans enjoying the atmosphere that really can’t be matched.
Our day started early, with a walk to the local boulangerie to stock up with supplies for the day. Over the last couple of mornings, the shop has been quiet, yet today there was a queue out of the door with people carrying out arms full of bread, croissants and cakes.
We filled the rucksacks with everything we would need for the day and walked out to the cobbled sector that would be our home for the day.
Walking the course yesterday, it had been relatively quiet, yet overnight the verges had filled with campervans and tents, and even at 10am, as we walked through, parties were already in full-swing.
We found a spot, and set up our chairs, at a spot with a good view in both directions. In fact, we were able to see where the riders entered the pave, and then would be able to watch them take the sharp left hand bend to our right, and head up the hill towards the road. It proved to be a perfect choice.
Of course, we didn’t need to get there quite that early, but there would be 4 races to watch during the day; the U19s, U23s, elite men and elite women, so there was plenty to look forward to.
The other thing is that we always like to be somewhere early, enabling us to settle in and watch the atmosphere build. There is something rather wonderful about watching an area fill with people, and experience the noise, chatter, sights and excitement first-hand. Also, if we hadn’t left early, I would have spent the next couple of hours pacing and being unable to settle on anything, just waiting to leave.
So once installed, we made coffee, munched madeleines and watched a group just around the corner jump into the makeshift hot-tub they had set up by their van. Yes, a foamy hot-tub, by the side of the cobbles …
They were probably slightly warmer than us, as we all waited for the first race to come into sight.
After watching The Paris-Roubaix Challenge yesterday, we had already been surprised at the speed people rode across the cobbles. Yet the U19s seemed to fly across the uneven surface, taking the bumps in their stride, as they powered through the corner.
About an hour later, the U23s came into sight, keeping us entertained for a bit longer. The crowd was starting to build and the encouraging cheers of allez-allez rung out across the fields.
By this time, we were watching the coverage on our phone, yet others were much more organised, with large screens set up in their open-sided tents, enabling small crowds to gather around to watch.
It was already an incredibly exciting race, and as we watched Pogi change bikes, and Van der Poel struggle too, we started to hope that this may be Wout Van Aert’s year. We all have favourites and Wout has to be one of the biggest and most well-loved riders in the field.
We were glued to the screen, watching the race unfold, a they drew closer to us. In fact, we were so engrossed that we almost missed that the Caravane had started coming across the cobbles towards us.
As it passed, the ground we were standing on shook underneath us with the vibrations of the heavier vans rolling across the cobbles. We secured one hat, but missed everything else that was thrown from the promotional trucks.
Then, before long, we were watching the first riders head across the sector, where we had been sitting yesterday, watching the riders take on The Challenge. The helicopter came into sight, above the church in Bersee, and within a couple of minutes, the leading riders entered the Mons-en-Pévèle sector.
It seemed that all of a sudden, the crowd had doubled, and the verges by us were filled with spectators, all of us keen to catch the first sight of the leaders, Pogacar & Van Aert.
In all races, the riders pass by, almost before you can appreciate that they are there, but we yelled and screamed as they flew past, Pogi just ahead, as they hurtled towards the bend.
We had just a moment then, to catch our breath before raising our voices again for the following riders, especially Van der poel, who had somehow ridden himself back into the race, after being over 2mins behind.
It was noisy, dusty, exhilarating and just such fun to watch the rest of the riders hammer past. watching as they continued on up the slight hill to the end of the stage, and listening to the huge wave of noise that followed them.
Understandably, it took a while for all the riders to pass by, every single one being cheered and encouraged on their way. Their faces were black with dust, their lungs must have been full of it too, but their legs were turning as if their lives depended on them.
We then returned to watch the coverage, a sense of excitement building, as the riders cleared the next sectors, with Tadej and Wout entering the iconic Velodrome together, lining up for a final sprint to the line, after over 200km of racing.
The suspense was tangible, with the TVs in the tents drawing large crowds, as everyone started to scream for Van Aert. It was so loud that I feel it may have even carried as far as the Velodrome, and the explosion of noise and joy that erupted when he crossed the line first was something I’ll never forget.
It was a fantastic race, filled with drama, excitement and joy. The riders may have passed us in the blink of an eye, but that didn’t matter. Everyone around us was invested in the event from start to finish and we may not have been at the finish-line, but it felt as if we were.
But the day still wasn’t over, as we still had the women’s race heading in our direction, and that was already shaping up to be a classic too.
For reasons that I don’t understand, a large contingent of the crowd left, before the women’s race came into sight. Why leave, when another race is on its way? The women’s racing is just as exciting, the riders are just as committed and the results are just as important.
But we were there to enjoy it all, and watched the coverage as the women came over the sector before us, and headed our way.
The breakaway came into sight and we raised our voices again, screaming on the riders, as they came past at a blistering pace.
Again, there was a wonderful wave of noise as they headed towards the exit of the sector, and we cheered all the riders through, before turning back to watch the coverage, as they hammered on towards the Velodrome.
We watched the screen, as we walked back to the house, and I nearly walked into at least one lamp-post and maybe a couple of trees, as I watched the final stage unfold. Secretly hoping that Marianne Vos would cross the line first, led out by Pauline Ferrand-Prévot, but sadly she was pipped to the win, by about half a wheel-length, with Franziska Koch claiming the win.
It was another breathless finish, at the end of an incredible day of racing.
I know we would have enjoyed watching it on TV, but being at the roadside, on a 5-star cobbled sector took the race to a whole new level of enjoyment.
Sitting, with a glass of wine this evening, our faces are glowing after a day in the sun and wind; our voices are hoarse, after screaming and yelling; our noses and mouths are filled with dust and grit, and our clothes are grey with it too.
It’s been an amazing weekend, from start to finish. We’ve experienced the ‘Hell of the North’ up close, and it didn’t disappoint.
This may have been our first visit to watch the Paris-Roubaix, but I have a feeling that it won’t be our last.
Postcards from Provence and beyond 