Freewheeling - Farewell Queen Elizabeth II (Elizabeth Mountbatten-Windsor)

Ride in Peace Elizabeth II (Photo: Getty images)

It has been a surreal 10 days or so since the death of the Queen was announced on 8th September. That day is definitely another of those "Where were you when....." moments. 

The news is not quite as shocking as with Princess Diana, when we really didn't see that coming and woke up to the shock news, one Sunday morning in August 1997, of the fatal car crash.

Also, with the Queen being 96, increasingly frail and cancelling more and more engagements you got a sense that the end was coming sooner or later. even if, as Boris Johnson said, people had a child-like belief that she could live forever. Sadly it wasn't to be.

So when I saw Prime Minister Liz Truss and Labour opposition leader Keir Starmer suddenly leave the House of Commons during an important televised debate, I realised there was a serious issue. It was underlined even more by the fact that during the lunchtime news that followed, the BBC News readers wore a black tie and jacket and all television programmes were cancelled as we watched continuous news about Her Majesty. We received updates on various members of the royal family travelling up to Balmoral to be with her - even Prince Andrew and Prince Harry.

Finally, when newsreader Cathy Newman of Channel 4 interrupted the episode of Hollyoaks I was watching, to deliver the solemn news I felt a combination of sadness and loss. It was like we had come to the end of an era. I had only ever known of the Queen as our head of state. As a child, whether it was at school or even at the Brownie Guides we were taught to respect the Queen. I recall as a child loads of fanfare around the Silver Jubilee in 1977. We lived in Nottingham at the time, and I have happy memories of me my mum and my sisters standing and waving at her as she drove past on a visit to our city. 

I must say that she seemed much more of a figurehead for the United Kingdom than any of our Prime Ministers. She always conducted herself with great dignity and correctness, and clearly demonstrated an enormous sense of duty by the way that she always turned up at events come rain or shine - be it to visit a hospital, open a community centre, a supermarket, or presenting folks with their medals - as well as visiting and welcoming heads of states of all hues and characters - from Nelson Mandela to Nicolae Ceauşescu.

I hadn't expected to be as saddened at her passing as I thought I would be. There was a sense of the country being slightly rudderless as we had a new Prime Minister and a departed monarch. 

With Queen Elizabeth II now laid to rest we can begin to get some closure and get used to our new monarch. I fully support Charles III becoming the new sovereign, but the fact is with the best will in the world he can't be like his mother. For a start, given his advanced age when commencing the job he'll do well to get to celebrate a Silver Jubilee. 

Charles is a king for the modern era and with that comes very different styles and ways of doing things. Elizabeth was of that era where things were much more formal, with a strong sense of protocol and duty, and you never really knew exactly what she was thinking. She just got on with what she needed to do, never complaining or explaining.

You couldn't imagine her getting into a strop and shouting "Oh this bloody pen" when signing an official document! It was against protocol to touch the Queen apart from to shake hands. But the King has allowed well-wishers to hug him, and he even let one woman kiss him. So we are already seeing a different type of monarch. 

Looking at the various tributes and stories about the Queen, I have learned how physically active she was. We all know about her love for horses and corgies - it was a sorry sight seeing her pets outside Windsor Castle as her coffin was carried into the Chapel. 

But it was very interested to learn about the other activities she did. She had been a car mechanic, and had learned how to strip down an engine. She learned to ride a motorbike too. There is a photo of her practicing riding around cones on what looked like a Royal Enfield motorbike. Prime Ministers have also told tales of how they clung on for dear life in her Land Rover as she drove them around the grounds of Balmoral like she was in Rally race! And of course she liked to spend hours hiking around Balmoral too.

My favourite picture, has to be this one of the teenage Elizabeth, taken while out cycling with her younger sister Margaret. I must say Elizabeth does look stylish on the bike. She would have looked well at home on one of the Tweed Run rides that is organised around London!

Without being really overt about it, Queen Elizabeth was a bit of a feminist. She was one of the earliest examples of a working mum - becoming Queen while Prince Charles and Princess Anne were toddlers. She ended up spending a lot of time away from them, but by the time Andrew and Edward were born she had got to know the ropes of the job and did take on the role of juggling "stay-at-home" mum while carrying out her duties. 

It was also under Elizabeth's reign that the laws of accession were changed so that women could become the direct heir to the throne, rather than being placed behind the men in the family. So Princess Charlotte (her great grand-daughter) is now third in line to the throne, where previously she would have been placed behind her younger brother Louis. 

I have a lot of admiration for the subtle influence the Queen had on our lives and I will miss having a monarch as dignified as Elizabeth II. 

The Monkey Motorbike Diaries - Episode 2

On Farthing Downs

Having this new type of two-wheeler has been great for getting out and about around London. I feel good about going out to other places. It's true that I can cycle to places, and that's something that I still do. But it's good to have that extra option of being able to ride to somewhere relatively quickly. For example, I can go into central London in half an hour, totally bypassing traffic jams that hold me up when in the car. Also, there's no congestion charge to worry about, and parking is generally free (apart from Westminster where you pay £1 for the day).  

Another use I have found with the motorbike is to get me to other parts of London in order to go running. I have aimed to get to different places each week to do runs. As well as it involving the fun of riding my motorbike, it also gives variety to my runs and keeps them interesting. I have been to Brockwell Park, Tooting Bec Common, Docklands, Peckham Rye, and on this day Farthing Down in South Croydon. It was an early morning start to get over to Coulsdon, and then I did a long run through the woods and was home by 9am in time to start my working day.

I have also used the bike to go to different outdoor swimming venues - to Canary Wharf, Royal Victoria Docks, London Fields, and then to Divers Cove in Surrey as well. 

I really enjoy the combination of getting in the practice on my motorbike, riding on different types of roads, as well as keeping fit.

I am not sure if I am a proper biker type though because it seems that real motorbikers get on their bikes and ride out to a cafe - maybe have a fry-up and then ride on to somewhere else and do another cafe stop. It has to be said that there are quite a lot of riders who are of a larger size. I wonder if all these rides to cafes are a contributory factor. Whether or not that is the case for them, I know for sure that I would definitely be twice the size that I am now if I used my bike to ride out to cafes every weekend. With that in mind it makes me wonder if I should join a motorcycle club if I am reluctant to do these types of cafe ride. Surely a motorbike rideout can be mixed in with say swimming, running or hiking and then the sausages and bacon afterwards, right? I would gladly welcome any suggestions of clubs that focus a little on other outdoor activities aside from motorbike riding. Or maybe that's an unreasonable expectation to think that these sets of lifestyles are not mutually exclusive. I hope that's not the case.

Related posts 

The Monkey Motorbike Diaries - Episode 1

Freewheeling - Keeping away from cycling activists

As someone who is into cycling I have found that my love for the activity has slightly waned of late. It's not that I have gone off cycling. It's more to do with all that swirls around it. 

I have always had a fairly simple relationship with bike riding. I get on my bike, I ride. Sometimes it is for a leisure pootle, sometimes for training, or for racing. Other times it's just to get from A to B. I could be riding in London streets, on country roads, or along off-road trails. 

Normally, whichever sort of bike riding I do, I always enjoy it and find it a pleasant space away from the more humdrum activities of everyday life.

However, in recent times I have noticed that cycling has come very ...politicised. Whether it's folks going on about the safety/lack of safety on Britain's roads, sexism, racism, all other sorts of -isms, sustainability, clothing sizes for women, colours, sponsors of cycle races and teams, even bike brands. Whatever is happening in cycling it just seems to attract some sort of shouty reaction from certain quarters, all aired on Twitter - of course. It's all a bit much for me. 

I just want to ride my bike and not give it too much thought. Apparently, even that puts you at loggerheads with folks. Folks have been known to throw at me the accusatory phrase - "If you don't see a problem then you are part of the problem." I am supposedly meant to feel guilty about this.

Let me elaborate on a couple of things:

Race and cycling

Last year, I was asked by a cycling magazine to write an advertorial for a clothing brand. This would have involved interviewing two black women - one of whom has a large following on social media - and who has been vocal on racial matters in cycling. She set up a group known for women of colour who cycle. I don't particularly agree with such groups forming based purely on race. It is a view I am entitled to, though as a professional journalist my personal views do not influence the way I work. However, I was later informed by the editor of the cycling magazine that I was being removed from the job because the two black women asked not to be interviewed by me. Apparently they didn't approve of my views. 

The advertorial was going to be related to training to cycle 100km - nothing to do with a person's race, but yet I was removed from the job! So suddenly I became the subject of "cancel culture". Ironically, these are the same women who campaign saying "representation matters" and want visibility of black people in various roles, including journalism! Absolute hypocrisy. I must also add that in the 12 years I have been involved in journalism this is the only time an interviewee has asked to not be interviewed by me.

I first became involved in club cycling in 2000. At that time there were hardly any black people who took part in club cycling. There were a few; just not many. Nevertheless I found the cycling community to be very welcoming. Sure it was dominated by white males - maybe even middle-aged, middle class males. I didn't ask them their ages or their class, and even if I could have taken an educated guess, I couldn't really have cared one way or another. I was just interested in being in a friendly environment, and that's how I found the cycling milieu to be. 

Fast forward twenty years and everyone is talking about cycling being racist and that the lack of black people involved in cycling is because we were being excluded. No one ever stopped me from riding a bicycle or taking part in events. 

I am not saying that I don't believe other people who say that they had a negative experience, but I think it's important to realise that people have different experiences in the same situation. When I say that I have had a positive experience I don't see why folks should look at me negatively. It's almost as though I have committed some sort of sacrilege because I am not going out and mouthing off about breaking down barriers. 

In my time I have known many black people (including members of my own family) who are just not interested in cycling, and who even wonder why I do it! That's been my experience, and for me to believe that the lack of black people cycling was down to personal preference rather than racial bias was not an unreasonable conclusion to draw. Because of that, some see me as a pariah for not joining them in their crusade. One black guy who has made his name by hosting an exhibition about Black Cycling Champions and claiming that cycling is a racist sport even blocked me from his Twitter account!

It is interesting how some of these people campaign for inclusivity, but yet their behaviour, by its very nature, is to exclude those who don't share their opinions.  

Militant Cyclists 

I have ridden bicycles around since the 1970s. My time as a commuter cyclist in London began in 2001. Back then, there were make-shift cycle lanes - mainly a line painted along the edge of the road but you weren't separated from traffic at all. I remember the first time I cycled from my home in Crystal Palace all the way to my office at the time, which was in Marylebone, I rode ever so cautiously and was quite nervous. But in fact, it wasn't bad at all. I quite enjoyed the experience and I was happy to continue riding my bike through the London. I have commuted by bicycle ever since. 

Nowadays we have the luxury of segregated cycle superhighways and special cyclist traffic lights to get you across busy junctions. I think these are great additions and have been instrumental in encouraging more people to cycle in London. I think that London is now an even better place to cycle, and its facilities are now comparable to (if not better than) some other major cities around the world. I can confidently say this as I always make sure to ride a bicycle (either my own or a hire bike) whenever I travel abroad. So I have ridden bicycles in cities around Europe, North America, South America, and the Caribbean, in my time.

The thing is, whenever I look at Twitter I see angry messages from various people about how terrible it is to cycle around London. I just don't share that experience with others. Sadly, if you respond on this platform saying that you have had an enjoyable experience people lambast you saying you don't know what you're talking about and asking you to produce statistics.

Campaigning organisations also want to suggest that every other city in Europe has better cycling infrastructure than London. I would take them seriously if the protagonists actually regularly commuted in those countries. Many of them have never cycled abroad - or at least when they cycled abroad it was in a holiday resort within that country as opposed to a city where people get on with daily life. These are not even like for like comparisons, so folks then draw their conclusions based on photographs of cycle lanes in these cities! 

A recently constructed segregated cycle lane in central Paris, running along rue Saint Antoine from Bastille to Chatelet, and on to Rivoli and Concorde has received much praise on social media. Granted it is a very useful cycle lane. But is this segregated lane better than an equivalent one in London? And does it mean that every cycle lane in Paris is in the same style as the one on Rivoli? 

I get astounded by how people take this cycle lane and extrapolate saying the whole of Paris has cycle lanes like this, and life as a cyclist in Paris is much better than in London! Have these people never ridden the Cycle Superhighway from Elephant and Castle to Clerkenwell? Or the path from Tower Bridge through Westminster all the way to the Royal Albert Hall? What is the difference? In fact I would argue that the London segregated paths are better than those in Paris because they are completely closed to motorised traffic. Cycle lanes in Paris still allow space for delivery vans - and the van drivers make the most of that permission! You certainly have to be on your guard when riding in a bike lane.

Then of course there's the "we hate cars" brigade. Activists have even taken to deflating the tyres of SUVs under cover of darkness and leaving notes reprimanding them for owning one. Interestingly, these will be the same people protesting against the regimes of Vladimir Putin of Russia, Kim Jong-un of North Korea or Xi Jinping of China. But yet, these urban rebels feel that it's okay to disrupt the lives of people who don't embrace their beliefs and behaviours.

And let's not forget the countless cyclists who jump the red traffic lights - some with fatal consequences. Campaigners continue to lambast terrible drivers of motorised vehicles. If you dared to question cyclists who flout road traffic laws they give a response along the lines of cyclists don't kill people when they don't jump lights. Some even refuse to acknowledge that this law-breaking occurs.  

I don't understand how they can't see that this brand of self-righteousness, and thinking they are above all other road users just doesn't endear them to the general population. It's not surprising that folks make negative comments about these militants on pushbikes, and display negative behaviour towards them on the roads. Travelling around a town should be about sharing the thoroughfares, not occupying them to the exclusion of others.

And so, in the climate of what I have mentioned above, I find it quite difficult to call myself a cyclist. I get concerned that people may automatically picture me as one of those scary angry folks who jumps red lights and refuses to give way to any other road user. 

These days I prefer to consider myself as a person who likes to travel by bicycle, among other forms of transport. In addition, I like to do club cycling and cycle races, as well as other sporting activities. I think it's better to not let myself get too immersed in the chatter of activists and militants.

It's nice to see that more and more people are taking to push bikes. London has definitely become more of a cycling city, than ever before. Though I must say that I personally don't feel any push to say that everyone should ride bikes, though I wouldn't dissuade it either. And I certainly don't believe that anything in society is discouraging others from getting into bike riding if that's what they want to do.  

Above all, bike riding is always about choice. You make your choice and respect the choices of others. Sadly, I think that what I have said here sounds much too reasonable, and is likely to once again attract the ire of others.

52 Cycling Voices - 34: Evie Richards

When speaking to mountain biker Evie Richards it's like a breath of fresh air, as I found when I interviewed her last year. Even though she is Britain's top female cross-country mountain biker she comes across as very modest and relaxed, with a well-balanced attitude to life. Having said that, when I spoke to her I found that things hadn't always been so easy-going for her, notably a few years ago when she suffered from disordered eating. Things have improved somewhat since then. She has fulfilled a dream of becoming an Olympian, when she competed in the Tokyo Olympics. She has since also become a World Champion, as well as Commonwealth Champion at the Games that took place on a course at Cannock Chase near Birmingham. Well done, Evie!

Evie Richards, aged 25

From: Great Malvern, Worcestershire

Occupation: Cross-country mountain bike racer

I always loved the Olympics. I just dreamt of being in the Olympics. It wasn’t necessarily cycling  when I was younger, that I wanted to get into. I just did every sport until I found one that I could go to the Olympics in. So for me it was the Olympians who inspired me – people like Jess Ennis, Tom Daley who were my true inspirations – or Jonny Wilkinson in rugby – we used to watch a lot of rugby, so it was …so for me it wasn’t until I started racing and I was racing world championships that ….I remember in my first world champs I sat on the side line and my friend was teaching me the names of all the riders. I never really watched cycling as a kid. So it wasn’t that I had an inspiring person in cycling. But now from me racing against different people and watching different races there are so many inspiring people. 

I got into cycling with my friends, and we used to ride around in the local hills. Local riders like Commonwealth Mountain Bike Champion Liam Killeen and World Downhill and Enduro Champion, Tracy Moseley (T-Mo Racing) would do coaching sessions.

Liam is the person who first helped me when I got into riding. He used to do efforts with me and friends on a Tuesday after school. On Thursday we would do Turbo in my friend’s garage and he would lead it for us. It’s funny because after four of five years of cycle racing I went back to him for coaching along with Matt Ellis, a GB coordinator. I also had Katy Curd as a coach. She's a retired downhill rider, and does all my technical coaching. Then there's Tracy. They are all people that I’ve grown up with, and they all live locally. So I feel lucky to have this team of people near to me. 

I feel like we’re probably freaks of nature around here in Malvern. I think from such a young age you don’t really go on the computer, you don’t really have a phone. If you do something you knock on someone’s door and you go up the hill and go adventuring or something. It’s quite cool. It’s like all the boys I went to nursery with are my best friends and if we wanted to see each other we’d just knock on the door and go on an adventure together. So I feel like we’ve always been brought up just being outside, and I feel that that’s probably had something to do with it. 

If you look at the men, like Tom (Pidcock) and Matthew (van der Poel) they can just do everything well. But for me, I prioritised the mountain bike because it was always my dream to go to the Olympics. I raced all the mountain bike races, and then I'd have a short break and use cyclocross races as training over winter. I never feel like I am going very well in the cyclocross races, but it is my favourite way to train. 

I love how crazy cyclocross racing is, and I do think I was born to do that discipline. I think for mountain biking I have to work a lot harder for it – all the skills don’t really come naturally, but I think I’m lucky that I am good in cold temperatures and I like the chaos of it, so I was pleased with my result at the World Cyclocross Championships in Oostende, where I finished 7th.

I love it so much. I think one year I would like to properly race it – be training for cross, and do loads of training on my cross bike and everything. But at the moment I can’t peak for everything like those boys do, so I focus on the mountain bike and use the cross to train through it.

I do put myself under pressure when I race. I’m a worrier and I feel like I always put pressure on myself – it’s not always from external pressure. Like I remember when I watched the Olympics when I was eight, I couldn’t watch the running, all the athletics because I wanted to be there so badly. I couldn’t watch it and I was already putting pressure on myself at the age of eight. 

I think without anyone around I put a lot of pressure on myself. As I grow older, I learn how to deal with that better. I work with an amazing psychologist and he’s taught me how important it is to work out what other people are putting on you, and how much you actually want it. I feel really lucky to have a great psychologist who helps me deal with all the pressure otherwise I’d be a nervous wreck at all the races.

In the past disordered eating and RED-S has been a problem for me. Sometimes you feel you have to grow up very quickly. When you I got into cycling and left school I just wanted to win so badly and I thought the way to do that was to be the lightest I could be.

I don’t think there was anyone to point me in the right direction at that age. I lived on my own and there wasn't anyone to pick up on it and say "You probably should be eating more." So it was actually when I moved back home after three or four years when my mum was like, "Oh my gosh you are so bony; you need to put on some weight." 

I was very lucky to have a very supportive family who caught it at the right time and helped me, and I realised how unhealthy it is for women not to have periods. Before that I remember seeing many doctors and asking if it was okay that I was not having a period. And always, the answer was yeah, that’s fine don’t worry about it. 

When I was growing up there was a lot of disordered eating in sport and you were aspiring to be like someone who wasn’t actually healthy. The difference now is if you go on social media there are so many people talking about their experiences, or encouraging people to fuel their riding. 

I worked with Renée McGregor and she was amazing. She helped me get better and it’s not even a problem anymore. I think it’s so important to educate people about this. Under-fuelling is something that can ruin a young rider and ruin their career from a young age. It can lead to a really short career. 

Covid made things very complicated when going to races because of all the paperwork and it was worrying. You need a Covid test, a letter from British Cycling, a letter from the race organisation saying that you’re racing. You need a higher status letter, so normally one from an Embassy, with an official stamp. There’s loads of other paperwork you need, though those are the three main ones. If you don’t have one of those there’s no chance of you getting across.

We have to travel from Heathrow Airport, which is nearly three hours for us. Once when we got to Heathrow we were told there was no way we would be flying, as we didn't have the right paperwork. So there we were - people who had travelled from all across the UK and we met at the airport -  only to have to go home as the trip was off. Then a few days later, we got a message saying, "Quick - book yourself in for a Covid test! We’re going in a couple of days!" We just about managed to get across to our race in Spain in time. It was so stressful!

I love riding my bike, but I also love non-cycling things. I’m very competitive but I think if you saw me in the street you probably wouldn’t think I was a cyclist. I don’t really like talking about bikes. Bikes are my day job. I don’t want to see my bike or my phone on my day off. I like doing mini holidays. Like me and my mum do a 48-hour retreat on my rest day just after training. 

My friends are really important to me and that’s such a really big part of my life. I like to go and have coffee with them or have barbecues up in the hills and stuff like that. Just doing anything that isn’t cycling with my friends is fun. I’m not really into shopping but I’d rather go to a little market when there aren't huge crowds, and I’m with people I really love seeing.

I do love sport. We’ve grown up doing it, and I love running, love swimming, wild swimming. I also like to play tennis or do anything outdoorsy. 

I think there can be a lot of pressure on young riders very early – whether it’s from parents or teachers or just from themselves. I think with me I was very lucky to have this group of boys and we would ride and have a camp fire or we would ride in winter to some random Tesco ages away and buy ice cream, sit outside on the kerb and eat it. So I think the importance at a young age is just to find a group of friends and just go on adventures, exploring places on your bike. 

I get a lot of messages from parents or kids asking me what training plan should they be doing, but I really think at that age you should just be having fun. If you want to race and do efforts then race each other, but don’t go out and thrash yourself because you feel like you ought to at that age. Find a group of people you can socialise with and make memories together. I think it’s so important because there are a lot of people who are so narrow-minded and all they do is cycling and that can only last so long, so you might as well, at a young age do as many sports as you can and just have fun really." 

Other Cycling Voices

Pauline Ballet

Tracy Moseley

Helen Wyman

Monica and Paola Santini

Janet Birkmyre

Cecilie Uttrup Ludwig

Emily Chappell

Michelle Webster

Caroline Martinez

Maria David

The Monkey Motorbike Diaries - Episode 1

I have become a motor biker - well, kind of. I am still just a learner at the moment. But it is a start. I'm on two-wheels and with a machine. It's not quite in the all leather or hell's angel or even a mod type, but more in the practical sensible bike rider type. 

I guess my motives for motorbike riding are more dowdy and less rock'n'roll than most other bikers. I just wanted a way of getting around London without being heavily reliant on public transport and without having the car stresses of getting stuck in traffic, parking, expensive parking and congestion charge. 

Of course, I like to travel around by pushbike, and that is something I will still continue to do. But it's good to have another option for when you don't want to have to go by using pedal power all the way to North London, or when travelling late in the evening. Or sometimes I just feel tired and want a sedentary way of getting around on two wheels. I'm getting old!

So, after a number of lessons I got through my compulsory basic training (CBT) and now I have the prized D196, which let's me onto public roads, albeit with L-plates and limited to a 125cc motorbike. 

That's handy, as that's what I've got - 125cc Honda Monkey with L-plates on it. 

I picked up my new 2wheeled horse the very next day after doing my CBT. I had had most of my lessons on a Honda MXS 125cc (also known as the Grom), so the Monkey, which has the same construction as the Grom was a good bike to start with in my motorcycle riding journey. However, that still doesn't stop you from being nervous.

The worst moment for me, was after I paid for and picked up the bike from the showroom in Coulsdon, South Croydon, shook hands with the salesman and sat on the bike. which was parked right outside the shop on the main road. I really felt like everyone in the shop was watching me and I felt all the pressure to set off smoothly like I knew what I was doing. Of course I knew what I was doing - I had spent the previous afternoon riding around South London and had shown my instructor what I was capable of riding on public roads. So I really had to remind myself that I would be fine.

Riding through the Croydon traffic at rush hour was fun and games. I stalled the bike a couple of times when pulling away from lights. At least I had the presence of mind to pull into the side of the road, out of the way of traffic, and

 restart the machine and carry on. The busy Wellesley Road which includes many buses pulling out from the bus terminal and traffic coming in from the underpass proved a bit of a challenge. Likewise for Selhurst Road which involved stop-start traffic on an uphill stretch. 

In fact, it wasn't as terrible as I thought it would be. Motorists seemed quite patient, and in any case the traffic was quite slow-moving given that it was rush hour. What I can look forward to is being able to filter through the traffic and leaving behind the four-wheeled vehicles.

Once I reached home at Crystal Palace, I felt like letting out a cheer that I had survived my first unaccompanied motorcycle ride through the London area. When I took my jacket off I realised that I was drenched in sweat - not just because it had been a hot day, but because it was reflective of how nervous I had been.

Well, I had made it home in one piece, and from here on in no other bike ride would be as nerve-wracking and clumsy as this one. So things can only get better. It was just a question of making sure I get out on the bike frequently, so that everything becomes a natural reflex. 

Given how much I like my little cute Monkey I don't think it will be difficult to will myself into getting on the bike.

The Tour de France Femmes est arrivee!

The day finally came for the women's Tour de France, known as the Tour de France Femmes with Zwift. 

After years of campaigning Amaury Sports Organisation finally put on a women's stage race around France, that can become the race of reference for pro women. Also, given that it was happening at the time of the men's Tour de France the women's race had a high profile, media coverage, and hopefully a lot of public interest.

I had a media pass to attend stage 1, which started from the Eiffel Tower and consisted of 8 laps around central Paris, going along the same route that the men use during their customary finish in Paris at the end of the Tour de France each year.

The last time the women's pro peloton raced around the streets of Paris was during the first edition of La Course, 10 years ago. This race was the predecessor event to what ASO are now organising for the women's pro peloton. At the time the event took place first thing on the Sunday morning, with not much of an audience. Granted, the event was televised but then at that time of the morning there would have been a limited audience to see Marianne Vos cross the finish line and do her victory salute.

However, this event was a very different matter. This was the culmination of a lot of campaigning, negotiations and behind the scenes preparation. There had been a lot of publicity in the months running up to the event, and it had been the talk of the town among all cycling fans.

So the day had finally come, and this would be the first day of  a week-long Tour de France Femmes. Although described as a tour of France, the stages were going to be largely in the Alsace and Vosges, just in Eastern France.

On this hot sunny day in July I got on my bicycle and made my way from my lodgings in Vincennes to the press centre, just behind the Champs Elysees. It was my first time going to the press centre for the final day of the Tour de France (and the first day of the Tour de France Femmes) and the thing that struck me most was the number of road closures, even for bicycles.

It is understandable to have heavy security at such a grand scale event in central Paris, but recent unfortunate events such as terrorist attacks and the "gilets jaunes" rioters meant that police presence was omnipresent, complete with machine guns and even CRS (like the UK equivalent of the SAS). All this made it difficult, once I arrived at Concorde to get to the area just across the road from me. My trip involved a real tour of Paris. Then as if that wasn't enough there was a lot of haggling with the ASO staff to get through to the Media Centre. A few other journalists with me also encountered the same difficulties - an officious guy refusing pass down the small avenue to reach the media centre and folks angrily remonstrating. All that added about an hour to my journey and by the time I reached the media centre I was ready for a rest. There was no way I was going to venture across to the start line of the women's race at the Eiffel Tower, and preferred to stay where I was and watch them on the Champs Elysees, as well as on the TV in the media centre.

This was definitely a historic moment, with plenty of spectators watching the first stage in the afternoon sunshine in central Paris. There had been so much build-up to this day - with the various column inches having been written about the history of women's Tour de France races in the past, analysis of the route, pundits views on how will win, and that's before counting all the various initiatives by Zwift, Santini and other sponsors.

In the end, for me, when the big day came, the significance of this moment was forgotten - perhaps because of all the logistical hassle, perhaps not - and it was all about reporting on a women's cycle race and then dashing off to the media centre for the post-race press conference.

I know there were probably people who really were smitten by the occasion, and were quite emotional about it. I can't say why I didn't feel that way. I think that for me, the big moment came when there was the announcement of the race last year and the grand reveal of the route in Autumn in Paris. Thereafter, I wanted to just focus on the job in hand and the racing itself. There's a limit to how much you can say about a historical moment, and when it comes to sport, the engagement comes through exciting racing.

It was a fast-paced race with a couple of crashes during the 82km circuit race around the Champs Elysees, Concorde and Rivoli. Different women went off the front for a spot of limelight under the lenses of the world's media, but the main bunch with the protagonists largely stayed together. In the end the result was decided by a showdown between the most experienced racer, Marianne Vos, and her young compatriot Lorena Wiebes. The youthful pre-race favourite, Wiebes crossed the finish line on the most iconic of avenues and ended up on the podium in the yellow jersey. It would have been good to see Marianne Vos up there, but Wiebes was a very worthy winner. Marianne Vos (possibly the greatest racer of all time) did get to wear the Green Jersey at the end of the 8-stage race. Sadly, Lorena Wiebes, who went on to win a second stage, withdrew from the race on Stage 7 as a result of a crash the previous day. 

The other overall winner, Annemiek Van Vleuten did it in combattive style after having had setbacks during the early stages, including racing with an upset stomach and having stop on the roadside for a poo during the hilly stage to Epernay. On the final stage, with a commanding lead over her second-placed rival, Demi Vollering, Van Vleuten encountered mechanical problems and had to change bike twice. Yet she still found it in her to stay head of everyone on the legendary climb up the Superplanche des Belles Filles.

For me, that is sort of thing that excited me about the Tour de France Femmes. Women now have a stage race of reference. Rather than repeating the "wow women have a Tour de France", I want to move things on and say "Wow, wasn't that an exciting race." And I am glad to have been able to say that about this inaugural Tour de France Femmes.

Rides on the Côte d'Azur: Col de Turini (nearly twice!)

Descending Col de Turini towards Bollène-Vésubie

Col de Turini, which starts 20 miles North of Nice is known among some petrol heads as "the drive of your life". With its dozens of switchbacks over roughly 25km (15 miles), rising up through the Alpes-Maritimes, towering 1,604m over the French Riviera it's not surprising that the climb has this label. It is also pretty popular among cyclists too, and has featured in the Tour de France and Paris-Nice cycle races. 

In all the cycling trips I have done to Nice I have never got round to riding up this climb. Sometimes it was due to a lack of time - you really need a full day to do it and enjoy the landscape. Sometimes it was due to a lack of form and fitness. It's one thing to ride up Col d'Èze, which starts in the heart of Nice, or ride up La Grande Corniche towards Monaco and pick up the Col de Madone de la Gorbio. These would be classed as local rides. But Turini, while still in the region, and easily within the capabilities of a professional cycle racer, is a significant effort for we ordinary folks. It can make for a full-on excursion and you definitely need to have the legs to ride uphill for the best part of three hours.

Turini Take One

Route on Strava

So on my trip to Nice in June, when the weather was getting to its hottest, I decided on the Saturday morning that this would be the day to go.

I had hired a BMC road bike with low enough gears from Bike Trip, packed my bag with energy bars, bananas, biscuits and a few sandwiches and shoved in a Camelback for extra hydration. The sustenance was there, as well as the motivation. The legs just needed to follow.

Setting off from my lodgings near the Saint-Roch part of Nice was straightforward, as I headed towards L'Èscarène from where I would hit an appetiser of a climb - the Col de Braus - which was more like a hearty entrée! My ride up this spectacular col is described in a previous post.

Once I had conquered Braus, I took the left-hand turn at the bottom of the descent to immediately start the climb up the mighty Turini. No rest for the wicked. 

Well, I am not that mean, so I did stop for 20 minutes or so in the shade of a large tree to enjoy a banana and a ham sandwich. I would've loved a chocolate bar too, but it wouldn't have survived the blazing heat. 

The long road up

Col de Turini from Sospel

By this time it was after 2pm and the sun was at its hottest. There I stood, in front of the sign which spelled out what lay ahead - Col de Turini, 24km, average gradient 5%. That would mean around 3 hours of climbing way up high. It was a slightly daunting thought; turning in the opposite direction and riding downhill to Sospel seemed much more appealing. But I was here now, and I reminded myself of all those times I had wished I could attempt the climb.

I calculated that the gradient would be no worse, in fact slightly easier than what I had tackled over the 10km climb up the Col de Braus. A marginally easier gradient over more than double the distance. I was sure I could handle that. I had all afternoon to ride, and once up there it would just be a couple of hours' constant descending back to the coast. Simples! Maybe.....

Starting out on the opening kilometres was quite exciting. Initially the route was under tree cover, which was a blessing at this time of day. There were quite a few other cyclists on this stretch of road - some were going up, though most were flying down. We greeted each other with a certain joviality and glee, like we all had a collective appreciation of this stunning part of the world.

Cyclists weren't the only road users making the most of these famous hairpins. There were various groups of motorcyclists, plus countless cars, often classic cars - convertible old sports cars, minis. There were old Ford Escorts, Ford Capris, BMWs, Porches, vintage Renaults, Mercedes, and other makes. Some cars had race numbers on them. I don't know if this was an organised event taking place, or if it was just proper bucket list stuff. I must admit I too, dream of having the chance to drive a car or ride a motorbike on this road too.

But today, I contented myself with going up at a leisurely pace - the only pace I had in me - and stopping to take photos. Such scenery was well worth a few photos. Within a few switchbacks I had already climbed almost 500m and looking back on the road that I had travelled up made me marvel at the sight of the tarmac snaking up and twisting around through the vegetation and between the hills.

As I stopped to look back, a guy with a Dutch accent rode by and greeted me. "It's amazing isn't it?" I agreed with him. I'm glad he still had the energy to appreciate the landscape, given that he was pouring with sweat and his fair complexion made him a strong candidate for a sunburn or even sunstroke somewhere along the climb.

Soon after this little interaction I began to feel the effects of the heat, as well as a little fatigue. The road surface at the section was slightly rough and made turning the pedals feel like hard work. I stopped again further along the road for more snacks and energy drink. 

Viaduct at Notre Dame de Menour

Knowing that I still had 16km (10 miles) to go made things feel a little demoralising. So my mission was to focus on the beautiful landscape and how dramatic the mountains looked in the distance. Over the next 7km (4 miles) my target was a chapel on a hill. It seemed a random place for a monument to be situated, but it looked like a place that could form a haven and a place for respite, at the half-way mark.

On reaching the chapel, known as Notre Dame de Menour, the building wasn't as pretty as it looked from afar, which was a little disappointing. What I did like though was the nearby viaduct, which gave way to another spot to have a rest, and also see other cyclists. A couple of bikepacking Italian cyclists stopped and asked me if I could film them riding under the viaduct, and then we got chatting. They were on their way to Nice after having set off from Turin a few days earlier. I guess they were doing a variant on the Route des Grandes Alpes. They were planning on getting to Nice, though would be sstaying in Menton that evening. When I suggested that they were near enough to Nice to go directly there that same day they laughed and said "We want to enjoy our ride, and not suffer!" I guess they had a point. Maybe I should have taken a leaf out of their book. After all, I was due to return to Nice that evening. Time was marching on, and I was still only half-way to the summit of Col de Turini! Maybe it was better to just enjoy the sights along the way rather than wreaking myself in a race against the clock to get to the top. 

It was coming up to 4pm and I still had around 10km (6 miles to get to the summit). I passed through a little village called Moulinet and considered stopping there for a drink. It was one of those places that is very small but yet it was still possible to get lost because the main centre consisted of various little alleyways and steps. A friendly villager pointed me in the direction of the shop when I asked. It was less a shop and more a bar with other odds and sods for sale. I had half hoped I could maybe get a Coca Cola to give me a bit of pep to complete the final part of the climb, but I didn't want to feel lured into hanging out in a bar making polite conversation with the locals when time was not on my side. In the end I gave up on that idea of a Coke and put my head down, rejoined the road and pressed on as far as I could. I reassured myself that my own provisions and a bit of adrenaline would give me the wings I needed. 

 

Thinking of an Uber under a threatening sky

Unfortunately, the sun had decided to go in - at least on this section of the climb. The village looked a bit grim and in fact the sky began to display a matching shade. It looked like a storm was coming in, which began to make me feel apprehensive about continuing to gain altitude. At this point I was over 3km (2 miles) north of Moulinet and it looked like I wouldn't see any more sign of life until the summit. 

That would put me on the back foot if I were caught in a thundery shower. I'm not sure I would have the phone coverage to call an Uber, or if anyone would want to come all the way out here. Suddenly all the classic cars and motorbikers, even cyclists had vanished. Did they all know something I didn't know? This was all looking rather ominous and I decided that given that we were approaching late afternoon, it wasn't the time to be taking risks up in the mountains. An Uber would've been ideal

So with that, I decided to turn back and take the quickest route back to Sospel. An Uber would've been great, but I was happy to get on a train back to Nice. This was my second big climb of the day (after Col de Braus) and my old legs were feeling the kilometres. 

Sospel

As I retraced my wheeltracks back through Moulinet I made a quick stop to consult that map and see if there was a quicker way than just going down the Col de Turini. While sitting on a wall in the village centre car park, a local man stopped. "Can I help you, Sir?" he said. I told him I was fine and was just deciding on my route. On hearing my reply not only did he recognise my accent as that of an anglophone, he also realised I wasn't a man. To which point he was quite apologetic. "Oh I'm sorry, it's not that you look like a guy or anything .....I just saw you there in your cycling kit alone and imagined that you were a man.....you don't often see women out cycling.....well not French women.....are you American?" I felt a bit sorry for the guy who was trying to find the right words without potentially causing offence.

I just smiled and told him not to worry. We then struck up a conversation about the local area and he spoke proudly about how great it is for cycling, and how impressed that a young woman from London was out riding up the hills. Well, he didn't kinow that I'm not that young and I didn't want to admit that I had given up my ride up the Col de Turini. I was happy to leave it at that! I asked him if he cycles in the local area, to which he replied, "Oh no, I'm too old to be doing that. I prefer to contemplate the landscape from my car!" [Plus ça change!]

Not finding any quicker alternatives, I zoomed back down to Sospel the way I came up. Although the day was now looking a little grey on this road, once in Sospel the sun reappeared. I must say Sospel is a pretty little town. Its cobbled streets lined with rustic buildings with salmon-coloured façades looked even more attractive in the evening sunshine, and many folks were doing their early evening passegiata along the River Bevera. Nearby, was a political rally going on, ahead of the legislative elections. It all seemed very cordial, though it's worth noting that this area and swathes of the Alpes-Maritimes region (though not Nice) is Marine Le Pen country...

Thank God for SNCF! A train pulled into the station 15 minutes after I arrived and I was effortlessly enjoying the lovely landscape until my stop at Nice-Saint Roch station, 10 minutes from my apartment. It had been long, pleasant day, but I felt that I had unfinished business vis à vis Col de Turini. 

Turini Take Two!

Col de Turini from Luceram

Route on Strava

My original plan had been to ride up Col de Braus and Col de Turini on the Saturday and then do a less epic, more local, but nevertheless beautiful ride around the Gorges du Loup. However, given my failure to reach the summit of the mighty Turini the previous day, I didn't feel right going anywhere else but up to that same peak, and properly getting to photograph myself at the signboard, even getting the T-shirt. 

So once again I left my abode and hit the familiar road to L'Èscarène. Once there, instead of taking the right-hand turn to the Col de Braus, my route took me up the left fork, tracing the 27km directly to the Col de Turini. This route initially led me to another pretty hill-top town, Luceram. While there I came across a few hikers and some runners. This seemed quite a sporty place. One couple who were finishing their run chatted to me and were quite impressed that I was riding all the way to the summit. "We usually go just as far as Peira Cava. But you're really tough going to Turini," they said. I was either tough, or just living in ignorant bliss! 

On the approach to lovely Luceram

Pushing on to Peira Cava

Hearing the locals saying this made me wonder if there was something I should be wary of. In any case I continued up the road through the lush vegetation. It was quite impressive to see how much altitude I gained over a short distance, as Luceram became a small sight in the distance within a short time. Also the landscape changed as I neared the treeline, which gradually gave way to mountains - proper Alpine giants. It was hard to imagine that these peaks were barely 25km (15 miles) from the sea.

This route seemed even more desolate than the way up from Sospel. There were no motorbikes or classic cars. I only saw a handful of cyclists coming down or going up.  Who knows, there were probably more marmots than people around here - all concealed in the undergrowth. 

It was a warm day, though not obscenely hot. I was also glad to be doing this in the morning, rather than worrying about having to battle the afternoon heat, or beat my self-imposed teatime deadline. I must say, as a general rule I try to end my big rides by 6pm. To me, there's something demoralising about still riding your bike when most people are enjoying an early evening snack or aperitif and you're still pedalling away, miles from home after having left the house first thing in the morning. On these trips I do like to have time in the day to do relaxing off-the-bike activities and take in other sights and sounds of a place I visit. 

So the prospect of finishing my bike ride before teatime made me feel comfortable about the challenge. 

Mercantour moutains seen from Peira Cava

After countless twists and turns on a gentle gradient I reached Peira Cava. This place seemed like the place to be. There were various outdoor activity centres and log cabin chalets, with nearby woodland and walking trails. This was the place to get the dramatic vistas of the Mercantour mountains, with the sea further into the distance. I can understand why the couple I'd met earlier on would see it sufficient to come as far as here and then turn back.

Turini, at last!

Being a newbie to this part of the Alpes-Maritimes my curiosity made me carry on up to see what I could see over the mountain. The Col de Turini towers at 1,604m above sea level. However this ride topped out before the col, at around 1,615m. So from Peira Cava the ride sloped slightly downhill, as it twisted further north. 

Finally arrived at the summit

On reaching Col de Turini, I was rewarded with a somewhat less spectacular view of a car park, a cafe, a souvenir shop and a meeting point for cyclists, hikers, motorbikes, and a few motorists. What was lost in dramatic views was compensated for in lots of chit-chat among the various parties about how the route was on their way up. There are three ways up - my successful route up from Luceram, my abandoned route up from Sospel, and the route I'd be coming down, via Bollène-Vésubie. This was the way the Tour de France came up on stage 2 of the 2020 edition. 

Again, I received applause from different people who saw I'd come up by pedal power. One guy did ask if I was sure I didn't have an engine tucked away somewhere on my bike! Then there were various photo opportunities next to the different summit signboards and the chance for a snack. The motorbikers tucked into burger and chips, while I just had a small sandwich and an energy bar to give me a zip to get home. I always find it interesting that the motorbikers would require more sustenance than I for this sort of excursion. It's one of life's great mysteries. 

It would be about 60km (38 miles) before I reached Nice. Really? I was quite surprised to realise how many miles I had left. I was hoping the signboard was wrong. But, on enquiring to one of the motorbikers it was confirmed that the signboard was totally accurate. The good news was that the ride would be practically all downhill. 

View of La Bollène-Vésubie when descending Col de Turini

Heading down to Bollène-Vésubie was a fast, steep descent which required concentration. It wasn't as technical as a Lake District descent, but the beautiful scenery was a distraction on the way down so I took extra care. This village and the nearby Saint Martin de Vésubie looked wonderful from my viewpoint on the switchbacks up above. 

The gorgeous route home

Finally my route took me into the Vésubie valley, where I headed along a never-ending road that was constantly on a descending false flat. After Lantosque came the Gorges de la Vésubie, which was an amazing sight along this main road. 

The irregular erosion in the rock gave a really dramatic effect, especially in the afternoon sunshine. It was one of those roads that is so pleasant you don't want it to end. I thought I was getting a bout of Stendhal Syndrome looking at these wonderful features. The gorge was a work of art! There was the option to climb up a side road to reach the parallel Gorge de la Tinée which would get me back to Nice. But I stuck with what I had, especially as the riding was effortless. You can get too much gorgeous stuff in a day!

The main road back to the coast via the Gorges de la Vésubie

Finally, it all came to an abrupt end when I reached a T-junction and took a left-hand turn to go through a less scenic area that had road works and a deviation that took a round-the-houses hilly route to reach a spot that was right opposite my original  start point at the T-junction - some things never change!

Soon afterwards I was in "home" territory as my route was basically a very long straight segregated cycle path along the River Var down to Saint Laurent du Var. It was a lovely smooth, wide path, alongside the main road, with distance markers from Saint Laurent, and at the half-way point a water fountain, which was getting a lot of use on this warm day.

In the distance were local hills in the Nice area, as well as the regular passing of aeroplanes, indicating the proximity of the airport - a place where I would be in approximately 24 hours' time. It was hard to imagine myself back in London the following day.

For the time being I just wanted to keep the smile on my face and enjoy the moment. It had been a fun-packed day, going up into the higher reaches of the Alpes-Maritimes with its spectacular mountain-top views, then plunging through the most amazing gorges.

Now I was on my way to doing my off-the-bike activity, a dip in the sea at Cagnes-sur-Mer. My legs still felt good and I was very happy to have managed to (at last) ride up the Col de Turini. Great to have ticked it off my list of iconic cols to do, and especially in these lovely conditions. This was definitely not a day to complain about!

Relaxing before taking a swim at Cagnes-sur-Mer

Related posts

Rides on the Côte d'Azur: Col de Braus

Quick spin by Lake Geneva on a hire bike

Cycle route: Eastern suburbs of Paris

Gorgeous Gorges du Verdon