There are very few sporting events where people willingly stand on the side of a mountain for four hours, armed with nothing more than a few litres of Aquarius, a baguette and a litre of Factor 50.
The Tour de France is one of them.
Watching the race on television, it's easy to forget just how much happens before the riders arrive. The helicopters, the anticipation, the roadside picnics and the conversations with strangers from every corner of Europe all disappear into the background. What makes the Tour special isn't just the racing. It's everything around it.
This year we headed to Coll de Toses, the highest climb of Stage 3 and one of the Tour's first proper tests in the Pyrenees.
THE ROAD TO FRANCE (VIA SPAIN)
Stage 3 began in Granollers, just outside Barcelona, before heading north through Catalonia and into France. At just under 196 kilometres, it wasn't the longest day of the race, but with almost 4,000 metres of climbing it marked the first real opportunity for the favourites to test themselves.
The defining obstacle was Coll de Toses.
Climbing to 1,790 metres, the road rises steadily over 9.5km through forests before opening up onto long, exposed sections with spectacular views across the eastern Pyrenees. It's a climb that local riders know well through the Volta a Catalunya, but this year it made its long-awaited Tour de France debut.
It seemed like an excellent place to spend a Monday.
THE WAIT
We parked at around 11:30. The race wasn't due until around 15:30. Four hours might sound excessive, but when we arrived the party was already in full flow.
Families were setting up barbecues. Campers had been parked on the mountain overnight. Danish fans had transformed one particularly steep stretch of road into Jonas HQ. Every few metres another language drifted past.
Nobody seemed remotely bothered that nothing was happening because, somehow, everything was.
THE WORLD'S STRANGEST PARADE
About two hours before the riders arrive comes one of cycling's great traditions: the caravan.
Sponsor vehicles snake their way up the mountain throwing hats, sweets, cheese, polka dot t-shirts and enough Haribo to keep the fans going.
It's loud. It's ridiculous. It's impossible not to smile.
THE PEOPLE MAKE THE RACE
One of the best things about following the Tour is that everyone immediately has something in common. You've all decided that standing on a mountain for most of the day sounded like an excellent use of your time.
We met people from Spain, Belgium, the Netherlands, Germany and France. One French gentleman, Jean-Claude, told us he was following every stage of this year's Tour.
That felt deserving of a Tech Cap. He agreed.
TWENTY SECONDS
Then the helicopters appeared.
The noise went up a notch.
Motorbikes. Police on the receiving end of Mexican waves. Team cars passing within inches of spectators.
And then...
They were there.
A blur of colour climbing through the crowd at impossible speed on gradients steeper than 10%.
Twenty seconds later they'd disappeared over the crest and thousands of people immediately started packing away their chairs in a bid to beat each other off the mountain.
It's completely irrational.
It's also why the Tour remains the greatest sporting event in the world.
WHAT WE PACKED
Aside from the Aquarius and baguettes, we also packed a few of our favourite AP pieces. It would've been rude not to.
Core System Jersey
Lightweight Italian fabrics. Mesh sleeves for ventilation. Three rear pockets to carry the goods.
Tech Cap
Protection from four hours of mountain sun. Light enough to forget you're wearing it. Approved by French Tour veterans.
INSPIRED TO RIDE?
AS YOU SHOULD BE.
