First day at the office
The 34 switchbacks of the small road squeezed between the French and Italian border have brought us to the top of the Col de Tende. The light’s starting to fade, it’s our fourth col of the day, the elevation clock on my Garmin has just ticked past 3,000, the last 3.5kms were gravel and I’ve got a puncture.
From what I can tell as I wrestle with tyre levers, the topic of conversation seems to be whether we now have enough time to hammer the 15kms back to Tende to make our train. A calculation complicated by the fact that no one seems quite sure what time the train actually leaves. It’s the first day of a new job and for a moment there’s only one thought that comes to mind.
How the hell did I get here?
Cause and effect are never the easiest things to pin down but I suppose it started with a throwaway remark from a close friend. ‘You need to get out of your box’, my particular ‘box’ being an office in a Belfast law firm and the repetitive grind that went with it. Working files, reviewing forests of mind-numbing documents and constantly advising clients on the ‘worst case scenario’.
One thing I've learned is that spending too much time advising people on the worst cast scenario probably isn’t good for your psyche and can be equally damaging to your soul. There are, after all, other scenarios available in life.
Inspired by regular trips, the best case scenario for my wife and I gradually revealed itself to be making a life on the Cote d’Azur. Menton was our destination of choice, the last stop on the road before Italy and a town of pastel colours set against a sparkling blue sea. ‘La Perle de France’ sometimes seems like the forgotten dot on this part of the coast and, note to all here, I’m perfectly happy if it stays that way.
On each visit we relaxed more quickly, picking the finest fresh food from the Belle Epoque style covered market, sipping a noisette between sleeps and swims on the beach before enjoying an Aperol Spritz drenched in the evening sun. Lovely as it all was, in truth a sedentary beach life doesn’t much suit me and I spent much of our first visit staring up at the mountains surrounding the bay and wondering.
A year later I brought my bike with us and that, as they say when they can’t think of anything pithy, was quite simply that.
For while Menton is certainly enchanting, it’s deep in the Alpes-Maritimes behind the coast that an exploring or aspiring cyclist can find happiness and perhaps even a Zen like serenity.
Within 1.5km of my front door I found myself tackling 15% gradients on the infamous Col de la Madone, from the sea to the sky in 13 painful kilometers. In that first week alone I passed a shepherd herding his mountain goats (not the lycra clad ones) on the Madone, an elderly couple harvesting thyme at the side of the road on the Col de Braus and a film crew shooting a yellow Citroen ‘Deux Chevaux’ (2CV) in 3D on the Col du Turini.
All mini-dramas in their own way, all memorable extras to sit alongside the epic views and beautiful winding roads that whispered this was where I should be.
And now here I am. After first meeting Remi , co-founder of Café du Cycliste, some three years ago when I dropped into the office to buy a jersey and grilling him sporadically for tips and contacts for the move that I’d mentally almost already made, our paths crossed again a couple of months ago.
We were already on our way by that stage, bags packed and goodbyes said, but when an opportunity arose at the company it seemed like the last piece of a six year puzzle was finally slotting in to place.
So what happens next? I honestly don’t know but first things first. Let’s just see if we can catch that bloody train.
