bicycles are so damn beautiful.

I don’t know whether you’ve seen the TV images of men, with all the rain, wind, huge puddles, mud and trash on the road. So we rode too. Women are not spared, there is nobody with an umbrella driving next to us to ensure that we don’t get a dirty little face. We do not get blanket around us to protect us from the cold.


I had some time to think. My main thought was: Why am I doing this? And once back there I thought things like: It’s horrible, with all that mud in my eyes, ears and mouth. It is cold and wet. Also, I thought: I really need to pee. Shall I just do it? Then I’d get some heat, at least for a moment. And, I’m hungry, but my fingers are numb from the cold, so I can not find my bars. And then I found one, but couldn’t open it.

I do not feel like waiting for the alarm. My muscles are stiff and sore, but my body is restless. I wave my stiff legs over the edge of the bed and go and brush my teeth. I see red eyes in the mirror. A weary head. Today we torture ourselves again during the exploration of the Tour of Flanders route. Cycling is still great. I hate it. I want no more pain. It’s delicious. On to the next course!