L'Enfer du Nord

Paris-Roubaix

My first souvenir of cycling is all about hair and kit.  The first one is Pantani and Chiappucci, both long hair, in the Carrera denim kit on mountain stage in Tour de France. The other one is one a guy with a moustache in a Mapei kit, the lion of Flanders. It would be a lie to say that Paris-Roubaix became my favourite race since then. But with the years, it became.

I've experienced Paris-Roubaix 3 times, in 3 different way.

The first time was in 2013. My dad and I did the #ParisRoubaixChallenge that happen a day before the pro race. It was of course an amazing experience. Even if I had experienced riding on cobble before, the pavés of Paris-Roubaix has nothing to do with the cobbles of Flanders. Fatter, harder, sharper, they shake you like you've never been shaken before. I remember the sounds of the bike. We were sure we broke something but of course we didn't. We spent the day smiling on cobbles, amused and amazed, laughing at the exit of every sector. I loved that day so much that I cried when we enter the velodrome, overwhelmed by the emotion. We just had lived the myth of Paris fucking Roubaix. The day after, we were at the Velodrom, witnessing Fabian Cancellera sprinting for victory. 

The second one, is one that I never thought I will live one day. I've spent 2 years working with IAM Cycling Team. In 2015 I had the chance to be in the race I've love the most. It was an incredible journey running from sector to sector, all over crowded. We just get in time at the Team bus who was parked outside the Vélodrome to watch the final. Martin Elmiger was in the front group.  He finished 5th.  The team did well that year.  Alex Saramotins spent the day in the breakaway. I will never forget his smile.

The last one for now, was 2 years ago. My friend Gilles kindly subscribe me to Ronde Van Vlaanderen Grand Fondo for my birthday. We spent 3 days in Flanders surrounded by the craziness of De Ronde. On Monday, we left Oudernaard for Roubaix. From there we took a taxi that drop us at the beginning of La Trouée d'Arenberg. And so started our journey. The last 100 km of the Hell of The North just for us. The course was already marked. What we had to do was just following the yellow arrows. Again, I was surprised by the roughness of the Pavés. But if feels so good to be back. And writing this makes me wanna ride these roads again. That day was special for many reason and not only because we had to eat hundreds of spéculos in the weirdest place ever. We laughed all day long again. When in the velodrome the emotion was there. Day like this makes me miss my dad even more but also make me feel closer to him. Can't wait to be back !