Flanders
If there is one pilgrimage any cyclist should make in their lifetime, it is to experience the Ronde van Vlaanderen firsthand.
No other weekend encapsulates or celebrates cycling better. The heritage of the sport, the passion of the fans and the absurdity of the course all combine to create a festival of cycling like no other on the globe.
My first trip to ‘The Ronde’ was in 2019, and outside of the Covid years, I have gone back religiously each year. I will never forget the first year I went, and how taken aback I was at how cycling could unify a country and be a populist sport that everyone knew about and celebrated.
My itinerary for the trip has become refined over the years to the point where it is almost cut-and-paste. Why ruin a good thing, after all? To embrace Belgian culture and not be too far away from the action, I book accommodation in Ghent.
The incredible old city is full of character and history, with plenty of choice for amazing places to drink and eat that are frequented by students, locals and tourists alike. It’s the perfect roaming ground for sampling the local beers and cuisine (mainly frittes) in copious quantities.
To fully submerge oneself in the Flanders experience, riding the We Ride Flanders sportive on the Saturday is a must. Personally, I’m not a huge fan of Sportives, however to ride the course which the pros will the following day, whilst all the hoarding boards are up and the locals are in full festival mode, is truly an amazing experience.
It’s humbling to cycle up famous climbs like the Koppenberg and Paterberg, and doing so really elevates your respect for the racers. Tackling these steep, cobbled ascents somehow makes you feel like you have common ground with the greats of the sport, like Eddy Merckx and Johan Museeuw.
This year, as with last year, we experienced typical Flemish spring weather, with rain for the majority of the day. This might sound slightly masochistic, but riding an already difficult parcours in adverse weather, as seen in some of the iconic editions of the race, makes it feel even more special.
Being plastered in Belgian mud, sliding over cobbles whilst overtaking people and fighting for traction on the climbs, makes the ride so much more exciting. Some sun would be nice next year, though…
The following day is race day, and driving towards Oudenaard from Ghent feels like being part of a travelling circus. Nearly every car is filled with cycling fans, dispersing to different points on the circuit to watch the race, whilst team cars and buses move from their various locations, heading towards the finish line.
In general, road racing isn’t that spectator friendly. Most races or stages are point to point, which means spectators can wait hours for the peloton to come past, all for it to be over in a matter of seconds.
That being the case, the almost amphitheatre-like qualities of the final circuit add to the magic of Flanders. The final 80km stay within a condensed area around Oudenaarde, going up and down the many hills that surround the town. It means that, if you plan your route correctly, you can see the race come past multiple times throughout the day.
Every year, watching the riders hit the Oude Kwaremont is a must and usually fits in nicely with the day’s schedule. The atmosphere is something unique, and fortunately they hit it relatively early, so you can move on if you wish to do so.
After the Kwaremont, the Paterberg was our choice of destination, just a short walk over a few fields. This was the first time either of us had watched the race from this iconic climb. Walking towards it and seeing the hospitality tents and flags lining the climb is quite intimidating and really gives a sense of just how steep it is.
Considering the dire conditions, the crowd on the Paterberg was something to behold. The festival was in full flow, with Flanders flags, beer, barbecues, fancy dress and the cycling devotees out in force.
The race ascended the steep climb three times (men and women combined), with the unrelenting climb bringing the best racers in the world to an almost walking pace, as they rode with palpable pain on their faces, partly concealed behind the Flemish mud. It was incredible to witness, and for me made these heroes more relatable than ever.
Once the race was over, celebrations in Ghent continued (any excuse), along with the reflections and the repeating of stories from the past few days.
Before the drive home on the Monday, it has become a ritual to jump back on the bikes and ride from Oudenaarde to taste some of the famous climbs once again. It’s always amazing to see how quickly the accompanying circus of the event dissolves in front of your eyes.
There are parts of the circuit which, only the day before, resembled stadiums, with hordes of excited fans almost worshipping the cobbles before them, and suddenly they’re transformed back to humble farmers’ fields and cobbled lanes, used merely for convenience.
Fortunately, the Spring Classics campaign will last a little longer, so we can continue to witness riders battling it out in Belgium. However, the countdown to the next visit to the Ronde is already on.