Monti Muri Officine Mattio Lemmas. Finest Italian carbon. Lightweight wheels. SRAM RED eTap electronic gears. When our new fleet of rental bikes have arrived at the café in Nice, we had to give them a test. Luckily we have a tame racing cyclist: French Masters Champion and pro-beater Kong Fùfù, bien sûr. But where? There are long climbs and beautiful climbs in our back yard. But we wanted a sterner challenge, so we took an Officine Mattio home to Italy. In Italy they build roads differently. No messing about: steep ramps, straight up. Walls. In Italian: muri. Just over the Italian border, only 50km from the Café, we found some. Tiny side roads with signs pointing to villages you never heard of. Gradients of over 10% for 15 minutes. Ramps of 30%. Muri. We took our human rocket, gave him the Officine Mattio and pointed him upwards. Let battle commence: on one side gravity; on the other side, physical ability and the strongest of wills. Stomp down on the pedals, go go go. No chance to appreciate the view. The olive groves or the greenhouses or the Mediterranean far below. Just darkening vision, lactic acid, the taste of blood in the mouth. Out of the saddle, en danseuse, it’s almost like he’s running up the climb, rather than cycling. The bike and him are one. It’s an impressive sight. So we take another lick of our gelato. THE FULL LIST OF THE CLIMBS:Ventimiglia - strava Ciaixe - strava Brundetti - strava Airole - strava Strada Ciappe Climb - strava

Les Courses Disparues #1 : Nice Mont-Agel It started with a 500m mark on the road, a little faded perhaps, a little chipped certainly but still there after who knew how long. Further up the climb of Mont Agel, we saw something else. A line this time, a finishing line and confirmation that this now quiet and almost deserted piece of tarmac had once been home to noise and jostling crowds. Where we ride is a high powered training destination, a visiting cyclists' Mecca and a local riders dream. But once upon a time it was also home to a plethora of pro-races. A selection of events that took advantage of the best conditions in Europe but which, despite many having a gloriously storied past, have disappeared into the mists of time, as thick as those which periodically cover the local peaks. They are the ‘lost races’ - Les Courses Disparues - of the Côte D’Azur. Like so many others, the Nice - Mont Agel race was invented by a sports journal. Sometimes known as Monaco-Mont Agel, the exact point of departure varied considerably during its fifty years of existence. Higher than Col de la Madone and with numbered switchbacks à la Alpe d’Huez which are now frustratingly out of bounds, Mont Agel itself was the immoveable constant across that time. The original idea may have been to generate interest and income from an early season race in a glamorous location, and attract the rising stars of a growing sport, but what was created was effectively an uphill group time trial. In simple terms - a brutal war of attrition, from the relative comfort of the lower slopes start to the rocky heights of Mont Agel via the famous Mont des Mules lacets, lying then, as they do now, in the eastern shadows of the neighbouring Tête de Chien. Wars shouldn't be re-fought but wheel tracks can be followed, with a little help from Michel (who actually competed in the last amateur version of the race back in 1984) and Kong Fùfù who can beguile an audience with tales of training on the slopes of Mont Agel alongside pros such as Alexander Blain. The only way was, and still is, up. Sixteen kilometers to the top and as Henri Pélissier said 'It is a question of breathing out everybody, of not letting anyone rest or recover…”. Here speaks a man who should know. Along was his brothers, Henri was an early pioneer of the race and won the first three editions (plus a Milan San-Remo, two Paris-Roubaix and the 1923 Tour de France). 1923 was a dramatic edition, with thick snow and treacherous ice covering the final lacets on the approach to the fort and forcing all but one of the racers to climb on foot. Not a scene you would associate with a French Riviera race. Retracing the route, it's clear that it's once you reach the upper slopes, after a brief dalliance with La Turbie, the Mont Agel test really gets tough. The average gradient increases to 8% for the section between the Route de Peille and Monte-Carlo Golf Club. It remains a lesser-known road for many local and visiting riders but a fine testing for resident pros who litter the top of the Strava leaderboards. The views from the switchbacks cut into the rock over Cap Martin and Monaco are stunning. Unsurprisingly then it’s the super grimpeurs that dot the history books of the event. It was here that the Eagle of Toledo, Féderico Bahamontes – recognised in 2013 as the best climber in the history of the Tour de France – took his first professional victory in 1954. Kong Fùfù may not live in quite such exalted company but he breathes a similar air. On the preceding Mont des Mules section which measures 4.2kms at 6% he has second fastest time of 10:33, 36 seconds behind professional Lieuwe Westra. Not quite an angel but close. The real angels of Agel are those who prospered most on the same strips of hardcore. They weren’t Frenchmen but an Italian, Luigi Barral, and a Spaniard, José Gil. Each took five victories in the race and should have ridden their names into cycling legend but instead lie forgotten to all but a diminishing few. The race eventually disappeared because of the rapid spread of development and the increasing population density. The complications of threading the event through the ensuing chaos providing too much for those charged with finding a way. And when it did the names of the angels of Agel disappeared with it. The lost racers evaporating with their lost race. All that’s left are fading memories for some, just grainy pictures for others. Both conjuring a sense of purity in that hill climb format, a sense of excitement at the combination of the battle against gravity and the one day do-or-die ethic. And the roads themselves. More lonely now perhaps than they once were but still offering the same challenge they always have. A challenge we’re all free to take on in any way we so choose. Read more about the races that gone but not forgotten in our Courses Disparues series.

From sand to snow Yvonne, the old proprietor of the bar at Camp d'Argent ski station is puzzled as to why two cyclists should arrive at her establishment just as the sun is setting and the last of the lessons for the kids on school holidays are finishing. "Where have you come from?" she asked. It was the question Kieran had been waiting for: "The beach in Menton of course!" "Vous êtes fous!" replied Yvonne. Craziness is a matter of perspective: in the cycling world, to ride on the sandy sunny beach in the morning and on the snowy forest trails in the afternoon makes a whole lot of sense. This is a ride of concentrated excellence. We wax lyrical about where we ride. We tell you about our choice of merino products that breathe to regulate temperature but warm when the air bites. Marketing hype? Well, here we are to put our money where our mouths are. And to hurt our legs in the process. The idea for this ride was born a year ago, as we went to watch the world rally cars blast their way over the Col de Turini during the famous Rallye Monte-Carlo. Searching for a spectating spot between the trees we found ourselves walking along a cross-country ski piste and thinking, this could be fun to ride on a bike. Cut to drinking espressos in the Café, shooting the breeze with Kieran, a former professional road racer turned mountain biker, about the possibility of riding that ski piste and the concept snow-balled into a bigger idea to ride from sand to snow. Never shoot the breeze with a mountain biker. They are a different sort. Yes, there is is an overlap of interests between road biking and mountain biking, touring and racing, but is there the perfect ride that can please everyone? If we categorise our cycling, is there an hors catégorie ride that pleases all of the riders, that captures the spirit of why we all ride? Two weeks later and here we are sitting on the sea wall in Menton looking up at the peaks that jut out above the clouds, formed where the sea breeze meets the mountain air, reminding ourselves of the route that will take us from the sand in front of the old town to the snow. Sand, tarmac, gravel, tarmac, gravel, tarmac, gravel, snow, gravel, tarmac, snow. In that exact order. The one simple element of this ride will be that it is up. Ever up, from sea to sky. That's exactly what Stage 16 of the Tour de France did back in 1950 in an era when the grande boucle used to visit these mountains much more than it does today. Stage 16 started in Menton over the Col de Castillon and Col de Turini. But that's pure road racing, la tète dans le guidon, with a focus on the finish line rather than absorbing the beauty of the area. Sure, we want to taste that heritage and, like the more famous climbs of the Tour, imagine the riders of old battling on the very same piece of tarmac that we roll on. But we also have to please the mountain bikers we're riding with. So at Monti, one third of the way up the Col de Castillon, we take a right to attack the first gravel secteur. Climbing on gravel is a novel experience to the road rider, the concentration required to pick the smoothest, fastest line distracting from the sting of the gradient. It's meat and drink to cross-country mountainbikers (and maybe boring to downhill adrenaline junkies), but what it provides for everyone is immersion into the quieter parts of the alpine foothills. And that's something every cyclist loves, no? Between Monti and Col de Braus we head into the wild. Gravel, tarmac, gravel. And cols. Col des Banquettes, Col de Ségra, Col du Farguet and finally Col de Braus; all in a mere 35kms. There is something special about arriving at a col by gravel rather than the traditional route. The smugness factor is high. Over a thousand metres high to be exact. It's February 16th and we are in warm sun, eating lunch in the grass just above the René Vietto memorial. René is known for his punishing and extreme training ethic. We wonder if his disciplined regime ever allowed him to venture off the beaten track. Does every ride have to be hard like René's? Does it have to involve suffering? It is maybe like choosing a favourite album - the genre of your ride really depends on your mood at the time. There is the café ride, the endurance ride, the training intervals ride, the social ride. But if we are looking for the perfect do-it-all ride (do we call it the free ride or the soul ride?) then surely it has to be long enough, high enough, and tough enough with adventure and beautiful scenery to satisfy all the discerning cyclist's desires. Are we in the process of finding that sweet spot of riding? We can't make that judgement with a descent to Sospel and the big climb to Turini and the snow still to come. Turini is our big mountain. It matches any other climb you can find in Europe. A hors catégorie climb for this hors catégorie ride. Classic switchback road porn in the Gorge du Pion before another 90-right onto gravel at the tiny hamlet of Le Moulinet. And here comes the snow. In the shade, in between the trees on the dark side of the mountain. In the belly of the mountain you might say. It's steep, it's cold, and there is little traction. The gravel tyres that dragged on the tarmac are paying back their debt now. Emerging from the forest at Piëra-Cava we are greeted by a snow-lined avenue to the col. The light is fading and dapples through the branches from over our left shoulders. Golden hour has begun and it's pushing us to the summit before the sun dips below the western peaks. Up, ever up. And more up, because the objective is to reach the ski pistes at Camp d'Argent, which is to be found two and a half kilometres above the col itself. But in the end that didn't matter because three hairpins after leaving the col the vista, the sunset light, the cold misty air and the perfect tarmac below make us stop. We have found it. Cycling perfection. (But we went for cake and beer and to boast to Yvonne anyway.) RIDERS' NOTES Discover and download the route HERE

Into the Night "Rage, rage against the dying of the light." Col d'Eze is 2kms away from our home in Nice's Old Port. Did we tell you that already? To say we are familiar with its slopes, its curves and the views from the Grande Corniche would be an understatement. We never get bored of riding King Kelly's Climb, but it can get a tad repetitive during those stolen lunch rides. Step up the darkness. Not many working souls are afforded the professional riders' ability to sleep until their body is ready to rise and shine and then ride on their own agenda through the crisp winter sun. So it's a choice between an indoor trainer session or strapping on the lights and getting out there. If you want to go fast (or long) in the summer, you have to go dark in winter. And it could be said that night riding is the new old. The first edition of the Tour de France required the race's pioneering competitors to pedal through the night to be able to finish the following afternoon, such was their brutal length. The very first stage of the Tour was no less than 467kms long. Ouch. And the last stage was directed to commence at 9pm so that the riders could complete the 471kms and arrive in the suburbs of Paris in daylight. It is little wonder that competitors sought some assistance behind motorcycles or stole a lift in a truck to make the inhuman humanly possible. It takes another level of mental strength to endure the dark and combined with the huge distances it was too much for many. That ultra-endurance approach of the early Tours has come full circle with events such as The Transcontinental Race. And the ever growing TCR starts in the dark at 10pm, as if to rudely reinforce the need for nocturnal pedalling to complete the task at hand . 'The first night and Belgium passed in a blur of darkness' was how it was described to us here. Endurance riders, being the authority on this topic, speak of the beauty of riding at night. Even the fatigue-induced hallucinations can be welcome, according to our two-time Paris-Brest-Paris and multiple Mille du Sud finisher, Michel Icard. 'It's like riding through a Walt Disney film' he told us. Yes the quiet of the night can be haunting but it is simultaneously refreshing. Col d'Eze is a beauty in the summer. But come winter the Grande Corniche is in winter hibernation. Take away the sensory distractions of noise and sight and, like a pilot at the Le Mans 24hr endurance race, the effort is distilled as you follow the narrow tunnel of light through the darkest sections around the back of the Observatory. And as you pass through the famous Quatre Chemins cross-roads you climb up to feel the cold air, hear the silence and see the lights that decorate the coast and surrounding hills like a set of jewels. Embrace the solitude as the nocturnal world becomes comfortably numb and just pedal and breathe. It's enlightening. For our night missions we use the Jacqueline Audax Gilet, the Arlette long sleeve Audax jersey, and the Lucette gilet, which all include high grade retroreflective sections to ensure maximum visibility. Find the Audax Collection here.

Café racers Day in and day out in the Café, our eyes receive a treatment of the latest, the greatest, the stylish, the vintage, the ugly and the odd from the world of the bicycle. It's a matter of taste, sure, but let's be honest; we all love judging (should we say analysing) another cyclist's machine. And actually, as a way of connecting with other cyclists it's a great conversation starter. Frame weight, componentry, gearing, motor in the bottom bracket? All these are important questions that have to be asked of any discerning cyclist and usually, behind every bike there is a story. So here is a selection of some of the many vélos that have rolled into Nice Port and crossed our door this summer, for your critical and ever so unforgiving eyes PETER'S TRAINING BIKE This bike belongs to Peter. Peter prefers to ride mountain bikes and not shave his legs but someone (we think the owners of this bike brand) pays him a lot of money to ride this particular bike (and others the same as it). We were very nervous about handling it but at least we got the valve stems at the bottom and the chain in the big ring. Strict rule-adherents might dislike the saddle bag, but it's a pro's prerogative. The story of this bike? The following week it's rider won the European Road Racing Championships. Will he successfully defend his title at the Worlds in Qatar next month? BADEN'S FACTOR ONEFactor Bikes made a splash when their first ultra-aero race bike offended the UCI's rule book. We asked the rider of this particular bike if we could photograph it, only to realise it was none other than Baden Cooke himself, Tour de France green jersey winner and co-owner of Factor itself. Baden spends half of each year in Monaco and with members of their sponsored One Pro Cycling team living or training on the Côte d'Azur, these bikes are a regular sight on the basse corniche. Black-Inc carbon wheels from Factor's sister company, Dura-Ace Di2 (recharged in the café during Baden's noisette and croissant) and an eye-catching all in one stem-handlebar piece mean this bike looks fast standing still. The following week we met Baden on the road and we can confirm that it looks just as fast disappearing over the hill between Beaulieu and Villefranche. MAX'S STINNER CUSTOM Tested in earnest on our recent Bunker Research Tour, this whole set-up was emphatically declared 'fit for purpose'. Once we get past Max's eye-catching 650b Compass tyres adorning the Jones wheels, we start to notice the beautiful custom Columbus steel frame and Enve CX forks, the Brooks saddle and, of course, the go-to SRAM Force CX1 gearing. The TRP HY/RD cable actuated hydraulic braking system was new to us. We suspect that Revelate luggage is actually full of obscure books about either French mountain goat shepherds, 50's Russian bus-stops, or both but what is for sure is that, with this bike, Max can go deeper into his beloved mountain obsession. REMI'S VICTOIRE CUSTOM VERSUS You've maybe seen this bike somewhere before (like here) - it's our co-founder Rémi's adventure - flying fish bike. It went head to head with Max's Stinner as the best looking adventure bike on the Bunker Research Tour, with minimalist luggage. And it proved to be one of the best equipped machines for the job - 42x42 gearing for steep bits, 40mm WTB tyres for the rough bits, custom rack for the fishing bits. It's such a nice bike we couldn't not include it. And yes, that is a fishing rod poking out of the bag on the rack. Once a river man, always a river man. CYCLE CAMELLINI'S ROLO This bike tipped the scales in our atelier at 5.8kgs with pedals. We worked out that overall this build cost just under 2,500€ per kilogram, or thereabouts. Almost as expensive as class-A drugs, but better for your health. No paint means less weight, carbon in-house Rolo cranks, stem and bars also save the grams meaning you the bike will off-set the calories in your post-ride beer. We did manage to set a PR on the Saint-Laurent d'Eze climb between the basse and moyene corniches on this machine despite what can only be described as two weeks of intensive de-training. We want to say #YOLO Rolo but we probably shouldn't (we'll pass that gem to their marketing team). PETER'S TRAINING BIKEThis bike belongs to Peter. Peter prefers to ride mountain bikes and not shave his legs but someone (we think the owners of this bike brand) pays him a lot of money to ride this particular bike (and others the same as it). We were very nervous about handling it but at least we got the valve stems at the bottom and the chain in the big ring. Strict rule-adherents might dislike the saddle bag, but it's a pro's prerogative. The story of this bike? The following week it's rider won the European Road Racing Championships. Will he successfully defend his title at the Worlds in Qatar next month?

Bunker Research Tour “Unlike the mountains, which speak of an eternity, the bunkers speak of a moment – the instant of a terrible and decisive impact – a moment, moreover, that never arrived ” (Bunker Research) Bunker Research, released earlier this year, is a book by two influential names in cycling : writer, Max Leonard, and photographer, Camille McMillan. It’s a work analysing the hidden history of modernism in the mountains. Those particular mountains happen to be where we ride , which might explain why a few months after publication we’re joining the bunker tour squad (consisting of author Max and touring specialist Stefan from Pannier.cc) in assembling and loading a fine gravel bike fleet with luggage to carry enough essentials for three days of extensive field research. “Once you realise the sheer number of installations crowding the hills, it occurs to you that the road or track you are on which at first seemed innocent, was originally built by the military, that it too has played a part in the drama” (Bunker Research) Those roads and tracks are known in France as Routes Stratégiques - roads built for military purposes to allow the passage of men, armoury, vehicles and all other military supplies required to defend the frontiére. And of course, those required to build the bunkers. For this trip they are our auto-routes, our quickest and our only options to get to the bunkers by bike. And they are mostly gravel. Within 30 minutes of leaving the Café we are on the first route stratégique which climbs the backside of Mont Leuze and Mont Fourche to Col d’Eze. And from there we climb further to Fort de la Revère which pre-dates the bunkers by 50 years - so as historical tours go, we’ve managed (by design, of course….) to start at the beginning of the timeline. But the Fort is big, commanding and obvious. What we’re hunting is an altogether different concrete beast. “Closer to the coast, the remains have been assimilated into the sprawl. They….nestle between the expensive villas of Cap Martin…You might pass them everyday and not give them a second glance” (Bunker Research) We would guess 99.9% of tourists never notice the Gros ouvrage du Cap Martin. Yet it housed 7 officers and 353 men. Looking over the cloche at the sun-bathers packing the beaches along the bay that leads to the Italian border around the next headland is a strange and contrasting experience. It’s ironic that this coastal cloche is one that saw a lot of action during the Battle of Pont Saint-Louis in 1940. “The Secteur Fortifé des Alpes-Maritimes became the most heavily guarded sector of all the Alps. It was also the most varied, reaching almost to the Col de la Bonette….Its architects and engineers had to be more inventive than in the flatlands of the north, where construction was more standardised, and they produced some extravagant forms in response to the challenges of the terrain” (Bunker Research) That engineering involved converting many of the mountain peaks into underground batcave-esque labyrinths. The rounded weathered shapes visible on the surface are but the tips of, for want of a better phrase, a concrete iceberg. The Gros Ouvrage Sainte-Agnés (half-way up our beloved Col de la Madone) with it’s southern and northern facing cloches is a prime example of an installation inside an entire peak. We see it from a distance as we skirt behind Sainte-Agnés to join our next route stratégique across to the Col de Castillon. That particular military route is a great roller-coaster secteur of gravel that starts with a dive down and climb up two opposing sets of lacets traversing the valley between Cime de Bausson and Col de Verroux and then follows the contours of the mountain across to Col de Castillon. “The basin around Sospel, one hump away from the sea, was especially heavily guarded. Here, gun turrets encircle the town, bunkers hide in crannies of rock and cloches stand guard in olive groves” (Bunker Research) The Gros Ouvrage de Castillon looks directly eastwards across the valley, right into the eyes of the Italian fascist threat as it was (or was perceived to be) in the 1920s when the construction of the bunkers commenced. We don’t hang about too long in case the Italians attack (or maybe just in case we don’t get down to Sospel before the super-marche closes.) Sospel has long been a trading town, situated on the Bevéra river with a bridge which was used to levy taxes on those wishing to cross. And it’s where we needed to stock up for the night’s camp on Monte Grosso above. Bread, cheese and, of course, wine. Always wine. “Gradually, you sense the vast empty networks of tunnels below your feet and begin to imagine those deserted places busy with men, humming with life.” (Bunker Research) Our next route stratégique is a cul de sac with one obvious purpose. To serve the huge installation on Monte Grosso which is our accommodation for the night. Kind of. Sleeping on top of a bunker - that was one of the main objectives of this trip. The retractable, rotating, shell-firing turret (that strangely has been raised since Bunker Research last visited the site) provided the ideal sideboard. Sleeping on top is a bit of a cheat when you think of the long days, weeks, months that the soldiers spent underground waiting for the onslaught. The terra firma version of a sub-marine. We breathe the fresh air and only fear the attack of insects borne from the foliage that gradually wraps itself round the concrete. But the atmosphere is filled with the presence of the huge matrix of officers mess, soldiers’ barracks, artillery rooms, lifts and mini-railways for transporting ammunitions that lies beneath. “When you cycle a mountain road it winds like a ribbon, wrapping itself across the contours as it climbs. Bunker research meant approaching the terrain more laterally: finding the sightlines across the hardest points to reach - understanding the Alpes-Maritimes as a military conundrum as well as a sporting playground.” (Bunker Research) And so it was that we hiked our well-packed ‘lightweight touring’ bikes for 3 hours. Up 800m of vertical. The bikes didn’t feel so lightweight by the end. Through forests first, then out onto open peaks, then up through more trees which eventually reveal a vertical wall of long bush grass filled with the entire world’s population of grass hoppers. Antton the photographer eventually confesses his craving for a bucket full of blueberries from his native Finland. But smartly he does so only after we’ve scaled the highest peak. Will we make the Italian refuge on the other side of Col de Tende after this? “Today, the whole of the Roya valley has the air of a no-man’s-land. It is neither France nor Italy, but rather just what it is” (Bunker Research) A bucket full of Finnish blueberries wasn’t on offer in Breil-sur-Roya, so instead immersion in the river was the cure before the drag up the valley before the left turn up towards Casterino. Casterino? Which side of the border are we? Who cares when the climb to the town is so beautiful. It gives a sensation of the high-alps with its trees, silky smooth tarmac, switchbacks and the cascading river which is too much of a temptation to the tenkara fly-fisherman in our midst. He unwraps his rod from his seatpack, picks his spot on the appropriate boulder, and hunts his prey like a sniper in a bunker…. only much much different. We definitely aren’t going to make that Italian refuge. “De Gaulle…used (t)his final assault on the Authion to make a play for the strategic Tende pass and, three days before victory in Europe, he achieved it. Tende became French for the first time in a hundred years only upon the signing of the Paris peace treaties in 1947.” (Bunker Research) Our strategic play for Tende before nightfall was obviously going to fail due to aforesaid hiking and fishing activities. Shelter in Casterino? Not on this busy bank holiday weekend. Instead we find ourselves being greeted by the lovely people at the converted mining village of Vallauria, who insist that we sit down and eat before finding our rooms. Every accommodation should be like this. It’s ironic that for our second night we find ourselves at what was another sub-terranean station, albeit fighting the rocks to mine lead. And it allows us to attack Tende early the next morning via possibly the best gravel road in the world. The loop above Casterino is take your breath away stunning (and unbelievably is still used for cars when the Tende Tunnel is closed). Leaving civilisation, it’s as steep as it is scenic. The cascade is dry which dissapoints our fisherman. As we approach the top of the Casterino valley on the ridge at the Baisse de Peyrefique are Italian bunkers, built by Mussolini’s forces and noticeably different in appearnce from their French counterparts. These are more obviously out in the open, surrounded on this particular day by farmers chasing huge herds of cattle and grass tracks begging us to put our wheels on them. Pourquoi pas. Beyond the ridge, the road flattens and curls itself round the mountain, with the final left turns revealing an epic side profile of Col de Tende as it winds it’s 65 hairpins up the mountain to the huge Fort Central and its surrounding protective bunkers. “Whether you are driving, riding a bicycle or hiking along a marked path, you realise that you are under surveillance. The dead eyes above are tracking your progress, ready to fire down upon you.” (Bunker Research) We arrive at the Col to find hordes of bank holiday tourists, with their cars and their sun visors crowded around the Chalet de Marmotte. People are actually sun-bathing on deck-chairs. At a 1,800m high ski chalet. But we have been places where they have not been and seen things that they have not seen. We are more than aware of the dead eyes above. And the Fort Central is so big, we go riding in and through it. The hugh matrix of empty rooms amplifies the atmosphere created by these abandoned buildings. Their silence, as they say, is deafening. “There are now no longer any soldiers who manned them still alive, so this bunker research captures them poised between memory and oblivion.” (Bunker Research) After descending from the Fort Central, past its protective bunkers below we roll ever so smoothly on the valley floor towards Tende. On this central route between leading to Piedmont we spy an almost Route 66-esque machine gun post turned mini-visitor centre, with garish signs and manequins covered in army uniforms. We share a wry smile as we realise someone else noticed them too, and thought they’d make a few cents. Footnotes: Photography - Antton Miettinen. Text - Max Leonard

What about Joe ? We’d been told there would be no helicopters. That the Mercan’Tour National Park didn’t care if it was the second biggest Grand Tour in the world, that this beautiful landscape only stays that way by not giving in to commercial pressures. We were told wrong. The sudden thump of rotor blades announces the aerial armada from the southern side of the mountain and heads turn upwards to see the single dot in the sky circle the Cime de la Bonette. It's not alone for long. Another appears and then another. The race is close. There may be whirly birds but there is definitely NO caravan on this mountain and with only one bar of 3G, every 15 minutes or so getting information is like pulling teeth. Eventually Twitter tells us that Nieve is 9 minutes up the road with a chasing group between him and the peloton. But what about Joe? The motos arrive first at the deserted military camp below. Then the cars. Will we see that bright green jersey that we're waiting for? A sole rider, obviously Nieve, appears as if from nowhere, inching towards us. We’ve got almost a 10 minute view of the approach to our vantage point 1.5kms before the GPM. That’s good spectating for us and a painful slog for the riders who’ve already climbed 19.5kms from Jausiers. Standing on the 80cms strip of gravel between the remaining snow banks and the road, we still expect a gendarme to tell us to stand back. But this is the Col de la Bonette, and the road has been closed for 3 hours so the crowds are limited. We have our toes on the tarmac as the peloton approaches. What about Joe? It’s the very same tarmac that we rode yesterday with some friends and partners. A bit of local knowledge and forethought had us staying in the Gite de Bousieyas; located on the southern side of the climb, 12kms down from the Col on what will be the penultimate descent of the stage. The objective was to remind ourselves of why we are all in this industry, to use the great leveler of riding mountains together for a shared experience away from daily business life. (It also happened to be good preparation for La Mercan'Tour Café du Cycliste). From London, Copenhagen, Vienna and the Ariege (Pyrenees) the Café du Cycliste Giro team arrived in Nice on Thursday afternoon and were sharing a beer that evening outside the gite whilst Claude, our host, had his binoculars out to observe the deer on the slopes across the valley, as if to make the point that this is no ordinary corporate jolly. Claude and his wife, Laurence, choose to live and operate their business in a commune that is only served by a clear road for 6 months of the year, such is its height halfway up the climb. They serve us a dinner cooked from hand-picked produce, with local wine and washed down by their specialty aperitif - thé de hysope - from the slopes we are here to climb, which hopefully has performance benefits similar to Vincenzo Nibali’s acupuncture treatments….. But what about Joe? Everyone’s legs are tired after yesterday’s efforts. Starting with 8% gradients on a 12kms climb with less oxygen than normal was no easy introduction. The joke from last night’s dinner conversation about your Garmin telling you you’re at 105% of your max heart rate is becoming reality. Fast forward to the other side of Jausiers and the 'smaller' ascent of the Col de Vars. Wise men in the group realize the easy start means the latter half of the climb may have a kick to it. And indeed it did. Was this justification for the 4 course meal including a cheese board in Jausiers prior to the ascent of the northern side of Bonette? Possibly not. Some of us push on the final climb, some enjoy the view – you get what you want from cycling, there is no right or wrong way to ride. And Joe? Joe? More dots appear below us, interspersed with motos and cars. No bright green jersey yet though. A pair of riders, one from IAM Cycling and one from Etixx Quickstep seem to be riding without conviction - a chasse patate perhaps. And then the main breakaway appears with our man on the front. Don’t do too much work Joe! Local knowledge means he’s doing his turn before the wind hits on the final 2km approach to the Col (we hope). We wait anxiously as the group climbs towards us. Max takes another swig of brandy from his hip flask to calm his nerves. He is the most personally invested in Joe’s performance today. The group approaches us at a good consistent pace, working well together at this stage to stay away. And Joe. He looks like he’s on a Sunday ride. So smooth, so relaxed, he pops a two-fingered peace sign to Max with a huge smile on his face as he rides past us. We are immediately convinced he will win the stage. We have to wait for the peloton and pretend we care about them before being able to ride back up past the GPM signs and descend down to the gite to get plugged into the WIFI and live stage coverage. The question still on everyone's mind; ‘What about Joe?’ On the descent we also wonder if Camille got the shots he hiked one hour and many meters up to the fort above the gite for. The life of a photographer is sometimes unenviable - choosing the ideal location, gambling with the weather, adapting to the light - it seemingly has as many variables and chance as it takes to do what Joe was attempting - to win a grand tour stage. Some of the team depart early to make flights home but three of us remain huddled around an iPad on the floor in the dormitory, with the door wedged open to ensure a strong WIFI connection as Joe attacks on the Col de la Lombarde. Now what about Joe? Two days after the finish of the race Joe is in the Café buying his mum birthday presents and sharing thoughts on which Niçois restaurant to take her to. His parents have been in Europe for a week not only cheering on their boy but riding the climbs of the race before him. That’s passion. Of course, he’s disappointed not to have won the stage - he wanted that win badly. But he tells us he had fun on his ‘home’ roads and that it was great that friends and family cheered him on the Bonette and Lombarde climbs. Much like we did with our friends and partners. Same mountains, same sport, same enjoyment, different viewpoints. The beauty of cycling in two days; objective achieved.

The cannibal & the couillole Eddy Merckx, wearing the yellow jersey, rode the Col de la Couillole in 1975 on the way from Nice to Pra-Loup during Stage 15 of that year's Tour. It was a day that went down in Tour history - just as the first edition of La Mercan’Tour Café du Cycliste will take a prominent place in the cycling albums of the 499 lucky riders who tackle the same Col before the finish line in Valberg. The Tour riders had enjoyed a rest day in the sun before they set off, and it was much-needed for Eddy who had been punched in the kidneys by a spectator while chasing an attack on the Puy de Dôme. Meanwhile, Bernard Thévenet, who managed to drop Merckx on the previous stage was obviously condisering another day of courage in the hope of being in yellow for Bastille Day. It’s impossible to say what was going through the mind of the Cannibal as he turned onto the Col de Couillole. Most likely it was his default primary thought – “when will I attack and make them suffer“. But looking in the history books, surely there must have been some doubt - since the Tour had hit the Pyrenees and the climbs of the Massif Central he had been losing time to Thévenet and Zoetemelk. On top of that, during the rest day he’d been forced to consume a concoction of painkillers and, worse, blood thinners as a result of that punch. Riders on La Mercan’Tour may have their own doubts when they exit the Tinée valley to start the 15.9kms climb from Saint-Sauveur-de-Tinée. Look at the profile on Strava and you’ll see one of utter consistency, which after Cols Cayolle and Bonette can only be interpreted as one thing – no breaks. But unlike Merckx and his fellow riders in 1975 who had to face three more major climbs, the Couillole is the final climb of the day on La Mercan’Tour. The experinence of riding it will be defined by the amount of remaining energy reserves of each rider, so like any climb, it’s best to break it down in sections. The first few kilometres are still beside the Tinée valley and can be spent admiring the increasingly higher view of Saint-Sauveur sitting pretty on the elbow of the river below. Track the steep chemins and goat tracks on the other side of the valley and be thankful for the smooth tarmac below you. The second section leaves the Tinée valley behind and winds it’s way up the deep Vionène river valley towards Roubion, which sits tantalisingly on the skyline in the distance. After riding through the rocks and tunnel a few straighter sections might have been where Merckx would have attacked had he been en forme, streaking off in the distance allowing his competitors to see his strength as he left. But not on that day in 1975. Emerging from the gorge-like valley, arrival at Roubion signals that only 5kms of the climb remain. We wonder if Eddy was apprehensive approaching the village, fearing the locals on the roadside might throw another fist. We can imagine him surrounding himself with a wall of domestiques to ensure there was no repeat of the incident. The road hairpins left at the entry of the commune to head into the more open, alpine section of the climb. Meadows, a wider road and signs for the ski slopes signal that the final summit of a big, big day is edging closer. A final effort up through pine trees straightens then kinks before the Col itself. At this stage with the first major climb done maybe Merckx decided he was strong enough to increase the pressure and then attack on the penultimate climb, the Col d’Allos. He would then try and hold on for the uphill finish to Pra-Loup. That attack did, of course, get him a gap and caused chaos behind, with the Bianchi team car crashing off the road and ejecting its mechanic as it tried to keep up. But it also led to the Cannibal's famous défaillance on the final slopes before Pra-Loup. A rare moment of weakness which showed that he was in fact mortal, and is memorable exactly because of his otherwise impenetrable strength. One other lesser known fact from the 1975 Tour – it was the year they introduced the polka dot jersey to increase recognition of the climbers' competition. It took its design from the wrappers of Poulain chocolate, the first sponsors of the jersey. Now there is something every finisher of La Mercan’Tour will deserve – recognition for their climbing heroics. And chocolate. If you need a summer target but prefer to do it away from the maddening crowds of the Marmotte and the Etape du Tour in one of France's most beautiful national parks, within a 1.5 hour drive from the beach, sign up for La Mercan'Tour Café du Cycliste

Giro preparation Every year, we at Café du Cycliste head north, into the backcountry close to Nice, to climb the Col de la Bonette on the first day the road opens. It’s become a tradition that signals the start of summer for us, one which usually happens in mid May. This year we went earlier. The Giro is passing over the Bonette on 28 May, on the penultimate day before its finish in Torino. To get to France it will cross the 2,744m Colle Agnello, the Cima Coppi (the highest point passed by the race this year). At 2,715m, the Bonette col road is scarcely less formidable (there is a little loop that is even higher, that the race is not taking); but, in truth, any pass over 2,000m will be difficult going in May. Think back to infamous Giro stages on the Passo dello Stelvio in 2014 , or the Gavia in 1987, for a picture of what could be to come. So why do it? Glory, for some riders, suffering for others, and beautiful pictures of the Mercantour National Park, where the Bonette is situated, for millions of TV viewers. We travelled in convoy with Didier, Eric, Bernard and Aurelien, the municipal road-clearing crew, driving behind them as they started their day’s work. We stopped while they unlocked the wooden gate barring the road, drove through, stopped again while they locked it again behind us. It was Wednesday 20 April and they had already been working for two weeks. The Friday before, they had reached the col; now, they were going down the other side, and were stuck in deep powder about a kilometre and a half from the top. Just below, marooned in the white sweep of unbroken snow was a large stone barracks, a reminder of why the road existed: until 1860, all of these mountains – and Nice – belonged to Italy. Only then, when Napoleon III took control of the County of Nice, was the Bonette road built, to protect Nice and to hitch the area definitively to France. While Eric and Bernard widened and tidied the work on the south side, Aurelien and Didier’s task was to make progress down towards Jausiers, the first village to the north. First Aurelien, in the fraiseuse à neige – the snowblower – would clear a narrow passage. Where the snow was more than about 1.5m high, that meant rolling up a snow slope made by Didier, who was driving a gigantic digger, to roll on top of unknown depths of snow and make a first pass. After that, Didier would clean up behind, widening the cut and digging down until the black tarmac emerged from underneath its white coat. On a good day, in shallow snow, they could advance a kilometer, Aurelien said. Today, in drifts up to six metres high, they simply couldn’t get going: Aurelien was having difficulty attacking the high wall in front. Finally, after a moment teetering on the edge, the rollers on the front of the snowblower cut into the vertical barrier, and a fine stream of white crystals sprayed high into the blue air, and down the slopes to the left. We were off. What’s the game plan once you get going? “Orient yourself on the snow poles, and aim just above them,” Aurelien said. And hope for the best, he could have added. There was a constant struggle to keep the snow-cutting equipment level as the truck tipped sideways and threatened to fall down the slope. More than once Didier had to take time out from shoveling huge snow boulders to tow the snowblower backwards, out of the crevice in which it had got stuck. Apart from that, accidents are rare, though in case of disaster all the guys wear avalanche beacons. Once the road is clear, the black Tarmac heats in the sun, further melting the snow at the edges – making it safer for riders and spectators at the Giro, as well as the other cyclists, motorcyclists and hikers who use the Route de la Bonette as soon as it is opened. It’s not only important for the Giro: the valleys on either side see a 30% benefit to their economy once they are turned from ‘col de sacs’ into destinations on the tourist route over the highest road in Europe. And after the first big effort, any new snow – even heavy falls – can quickly and easily be cleared by a regular snowplough. The only potential problem for the Giro, predicted Aurelien’s boss, Monsieur Fabron, would be a big storm on the day of the stage itself. By mid afternoon, the newly uncovered road had turned into a slushy stream in the sun, and it was time for the men to stop work. Aurelien left the snowblower at the snow face, headed up to base and drove back down in the snowplough, to refuel his machine. Then we shook hands and they were gone, leaving us on a deserted, silent road above the locked barrier, free to ride our bikes between huge walls of snow as the sun disappeared behind the peaks.

Kong Fùfù: The man, the myth and the unmasking... It was the opening of Café du Cycliste’s new home in the old Port of Nice that drew the mythical Kong Fùfù out of hiding. Or at least we like to think so. But whatever the reason was, when he surfaced for a double espresso recently we couldn’t resist the opportunity to learn more. We were lucky enough to arrange a sortie into his natural habitat and after following him (as best we could) up some lesser known climbs and then taking more than a few moments to draw breath, we sat down and started firing. CdC: It’s hard to believe that an amateur cyclist can beat the pros on the testing cols of the Cóte d’Azur. Surely you must be an ex-pro? No, I’ve never been a pro. I was an elite mountain bike rider between 1998 and 2004 so I rode in teams with riders who went on to become professional road cyclists but I didn’t follow them.CdC: So you were good enough for the pro ranks, you just choose not to take that route? I don’t know if I was good enough, I’ll never know for sure. I have had experience training with pros, racing a few of them on the MTB and obviously the Strava times give an indication, but that’s not the same as actually competing in the pro road racing ranks.CdC: Who did you ride with who went on to go pro? Can you name names? I used to ride a lot with Alexander Blain (who has ridden for Team Cofidis, Endura Racing and Raleigh), we had a lot of fun. I remember riding the Col de la Bonette with him way back in 1999. I had a GT bicycle that weighed about 10kg and the highest gear was a 42x23. We arrived at Bousieyas, and he was very upset. He asked me to go slower but I told him ”I can't, I have a 42 on the front and I'm on the 23 at the back, I can't go slower!”CdC: Now we’re really intrigued, can you drop some more? I entered an endurance MTB race back in 2002 where there were quite a few top riders on the starting line. I remember thinking I had to start fast if I was going to keep up with them and so I followed Jerome Chiotti (ex Festina and 1996 World MTB Champion) and Peter Pouly up the first climb, which went on for about an hour. Eventually after 90 minutes I was caught by Jean-Christophe Peraud! I finished about 15th in that race but remember him coming to congratulate me after the race for the way I rode. CdC: What about road racing, did that ever appeal? Not until about ten years later! By then I was 35 years old but I decided to race in some road races. I finished 4th in the Tour de Corse and during that race placed 2nd behind Antoine Lavieu on the Mont Faron Climb. Antoine was at AVC Aix, and that year he won a stage at the Tour du Val d'Aoste before being signed for the La Pomme Marseille team in 2013, so he was pretty quick. CdC: And so was it after that you decided to go Strava hunting? I didn’t really decide to, in fact it was much more of an accident. A friend of mine told me I should register on Strava but I was riding without any computers and I was not very interested. But he insisted I take his old Garmin and that’s how it started. CdC: Do you remember the first KOM you got? I think the first climb was Côte de Peille (which usually features in the queen stage of Paris-Nice) but actually it was something that happened around the same time that sort of motivated me. It was very hot day in August but I had this crazy thought that I should go and climb Col de la Madone. I must have been crazy that day because I really attacked it from the start and about 3km before St Agnès I saw a guy climbing above me in the distance. I thought he must be as mad as me to climb in this heat but when caught him I saw that he had a Team Sky jersey and a Pinarello. Just as I reached his back wheel I realised that it was Ritchie Porte! I immediately congratulated him for their victory that year in the Tour with Chris Froome. We shared some words but as he seemed to be riding quite slowly and suffering, I wished him a bonne journée, accelerated and continued to climb. CdC: Not every day you leave someone like Porte in your wheel (to say the least), that must have encouraged you to compete with the pros over segments? It gave me a kick for sure. After that I started to share my rides and ride my favourite climbs to see how I would compare. Then about a year later Strava sent me a video of my activities: and I had more than 380 KOMs. CdC: Definite proof you could compete with the pros. Over Strava segments at least! And of course that was another kick and the start of a period when I really raced for KOMs with a few different guys. The two I ‘virtually raced’ regularly with were Ian Boswell and Joe Dombrowski. I knew that some of their followers thought that I was a cheat and were saying that I took the KOMs with a car. But they were great, when we fought for the ‘La Redoute’ segment and I eventually retook it Peter Kenaugh tweeted 'Kong Fufu is going!' CdC: The pros were taking notice but did you ever ride with them? Never. For two years we raced on Strava but I’d never met Joe or Ian. This summer I was at Café du Cycliste when Joe arrived. Of course there was no reason for him to recognise me and he went to speak to Mikael the mechanic. After a few minutes, Mikael asked Joe whether he knew who I was but Joe had no idea. Mikael explained that I was Kong FuFu ad Joe immediately got out his phone to take a photo, as if I was about to disappear! That was really very nice. CdC: But your riding isn’t all about KOMs is it? Not at all, that was just a period. And also I made a decision to run more as well. I love trail running as it really gets you into the wilderness of the mountains and to some very beautiful places. CdC: We’ve seen your Instagram feed, it looks like it shows every nook and cranny of the Alpes—Maritimes and the Mercantour National Park ? Quite a few of them anyway! I love to explore, on my bike and on foot. That’s where the real enjoyment is for me, riding to discover new places and have new adventures. Nowadays I lose more KOMs than I gain, that’s for sure. CdC: Which must bother you a little bit? Not at all. CdC: Just a tiny little bit? No, okay, I admit, I’m curious sometimes. Like when I lost the ‘Mont des Mules’ segment by 20s and then a couple of days later I lost Col de la Madone by 50s to the same guy, his name was Shaky Shake. CdC: Suddenly you knew how other people felt? Exactly. And over the following months I kept getting the Strava emails telling me I’d lost my KOMs to the same guy. Every time I lost another one I wondered who he was and after a while I thought I would have to find out. CdC: And did you manage to? Eventually. I kept checking where he was on his Strava profile, I saw he was in Tenerife during the winter for example, and then I talked to some people I know. Finally I found someone who knew. Shaky Shake is…Lieuwe Westra! CdC: Lieuwe Westra , the new Kong FùFù...there's just one more thing we obviously have to ask, about your name? That's easy, it was my young son mispronouncing a cartoon character, I thought it sounded good so I used it. CdC: We actually meant your real name...your actual name...you must have a real name...where are you going? If you’d like to see how you stack up again the man himself (Kong Fùfù that is), join the Café du Cycliste Strava club.

Lookbook Passoni Titanium steeds in house livery. Now available to rent.

We ride on the moon “Ils on roulé sur la Lune” (‘they rode on the moon’), was journalist Philippe Bouvet’s description of the Grand Boucle’s venture up Col de la Bonette in 1993. In fact, that year the peloton passed over the extension of the Col to the summit, the Cime de la Bonette, which, at 2,802 meters high, is the highest point the Tour has reached in its entire history. While Google encourage employees to spend 20% of their time on personal projects and Amazon apparently still make their desks out of old doors, here at Café du Cycliste we have a few of our own eccentric traditions. One of which, with the village of Saint-Etienne-de-Tinée only 90km away, is to ride the Col de la Bonette as soon as it opens. This year we had to wait what felt like an agonising full five days after the scheduled opening until the snow ploughs were finally able to do their job. We received daily updates from the Valée Ubaye organisation until the Col finally opened on the 13th May and on the 14th, we were there. This is what it looked like. As a result of more snow, the Col closed three days after we rode it so if you plan to go, check with Valée Ubaye before leaving as anything can happen when you are so high above sea level. And don’t forget if you want to come and ride it with us, we are opening our new premises very soon and have some exceedingly special bikes to take you up an equally special road.

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.

Taking a 2CV HC According to legend, the Tour de France's climbs are categorised by the gear that a Citroën 2CV, the iconically French car, had to use to successfully make it to the top. Category 4, the lowest categorisation for the easiest hills, was possible in fourth gear; Category 3 in third gear, and so on. Hors Categorie, or 'beyond categorisation' was reserved for those climbs which a 2CV could not drive up. While it's true that the Deux Chevaux (the name means 'two horses', as in 2hp) was not made for climbing mountains it's probably not true that it was the source of the classifications. The Tour de France categorisations were created in 1947; at first, the mountains were only divided into first- and second-category climbs, and the HC designation was only introduced in 1975. 2CVs, on the other hand, were not manufactured until 1948 and by 1975 had 602hp at their disposal rather than the 375 they were born with post-war – more of a Trois Chevaux you might say. More likely it was a Hotchkiss, the car used for years by Tour founder Henri Desgrange, that would be struggling up the climbs and needing gear selection advice. And Alpe d’Huez has always been an HC climb, yet the road is purpose built so that the biggest, heaviest vehicles can deliver their goods or their people to the popular ski resort above. These days, the classification of an individual climb can change from year to year depending on where it comes and what else is happening in the stage, and its category depends a lot more on how important the organisers want that climb to be in the King of the Mountains competition. For our Autumn/Winter 2014 photoshoot we took a 2CV Fourgonette van into the high mountains.First, we went to the top of the Cime de la Bonette at dawn, to catch the sunrise on the highest paved road in Europe. It's only an hour's drive from Nice but it's cold and wild and barren up there, and only a day or two after our visit the first snow was settling on the peaks around it. Taking the 2CV up that tiny, deserted road was a struggle, and eventually it had to 'rest' to get over its exertions. It was not the road's fault – more the combined weight of the photographer, passengers and several bikes and models that jumped in and out along the way. Let's call it an Hors Catégorie photoshoot.

Saint Jean Cap Ferrat This is one of the easier trail courses that you can find on the Côte d'Azur, its 120 metres of vertical drop provide a playground for novice runners and the experienced athlete alike. How difficult you make it is a matter of what pace you choose to attack, as running downhill at speed is harder (and more dangerous) than it looks. It is possible to get there by train from Nice by getting off at Beaulieu-sur-Mer station. A short kilometre then remains to get to the starting point, where you find yourself in ‘the Bay of Ants’. At the beginning of the 19th century, the place was wild, the waves brought seaweed from the sea which piled up, regularly transforming into enormous anthills. Paloma Beach, the first major crossing point after leaving the village, offers a breath-taking view of the bay. In the summer, getting there early in the morning before the bathing towels touch each other is a wise move, plus the morning light and the surrounding silence magnify the beauty of the place. The route is self-evident, the path follows the coastline sometimes offering steep reliefs, and at other times revealing coves carved into the rock. The natural staircase chiselled into the rock at the level of the signal house, at the tip of the cape, will present the main challenge on this route, and a few passages are a little technical before you arrive by the sea. Attempting this route under the beating sun or at the end of the day is an invitation to swim that will be difficult to resist. MOUNT BORON Beginning at Café du Cycliste, this is the most accessible route if you’re short of time and need to leave your gear somewhere. VIEW MORE THE DOG'S HEAD Somewhat technical trail with an incredible view of Monaco at its peak and finishing at La Mala beach. VIEW MORE ÈZE SEASIDE TO NICE A classic route between beautiful Riviera villas to the village of rock of Eze via Nietzsche Road and back into Nice. VIEW MORE NICE TRAIL RUNNING GUIDE For the visiting runner in Nice, you can take any number of routes and find yourself on terrific terrain with stunning scenery that will make you want to stay forever. VIEW MORE

Èze Seaside – Nice The first edition of our trail running routes is a classic, and if you have nothing against a short train ride to get to a route as breath-taking as it is wild, this itinerary is for you. You will find yourself in shorts and running shoes among the passengers of the Regional Express Train (TER). You board at Nice-Ville and some of them will look at you questioningly, others may gaze enviously at you. Leave the wagon at Èze Bord de Mer station (roughly a 20-minute trip). Descending a few metres from the station you will reach a pebble beach with translucent water, a small detour that is worth a look. But to start running the prescribed route, you must go back up onto the road and cross over it. The Nietzsche path, named after the famous philosopher, weaves its way between the stone walls of beautiful Riviera villas. Make a few round trips on the flat to climb as a warm-up, so as not to be surprised by the coast which immediately faces you. In the next 30 minutes you are not going to stop climbing. As you rise above the sea, the landscape becomes even more grandiose, and after just over 250 meters of elevation, you enter the village of Èze. The rock of Èze has been home to local populations since the Iron Age, around 220 BC but your route around it is not the typical tourist trail. The plot takes the road towards Nice for about a kilometre before starting a new ascent up the mountainside. The path is steep, so don’t be tempted to walk here as the spectacle to come is worth the effort. The Col d'Èze soon comes into view. From here the descent is made by the strategic road, with a remarkable curiosity on the northern flank of Mont Leuze where you can see the four paths leading to the col. Then it’s on to the Parc du Vinaigrier and the atmosphere of the route somehow switches as you arrive between olive trees and old stone walls. And then suddenly, we enter Nice. More Trails THE DOG'S HEAD Somewhat technical trail with an incredible view of Monaco at its peak and finishing at La Mala beach. VIEW MORE SAINT JEAN CAP FERRAT A relatively easy route that winds its way to Paloma Beach for impeccable views and a finish by the sea. VIEW MORE MOUNT BORON Beginning at Café du Cycliste, this is the most accessible route if you’re short of time and need to leave your gear somewhere. VIEW MORE NICE TRAIL RUNNING GUIDE For the visiting runner in Nice, you can take any number of routes and find yourself on terrific terrain with stunning scenery that will make you want to stay forever. VIEW MORE

Cap d'Ail Tête de Chien Here you are, in Cap d'Ail for a trail that will take you straight to one of the most beautiful views of the Principality of Monaco. The Beaverbrook car park is an ideal place to start, and if you are both thrifty and ambitious, take advantage of the free 30 minutes to complete the course. Otherwise, slip a small coin into the machine and go for a longer outing. A few stairs to warm-up will lead you to the first pathway, and quickly, the rooftops of the residential buildings will give way to a clear view of Cap Ferrat. The trails are mostly made up of gravel, but occasionally larger boulders will test your agility. Nothing you can’t handle though. As you push on, one big effort upwards and the summit reaches out its arms to you. Welcome to the Dog’s Head. According to a recent study, 90% of people cannot hold back a ‘wow’ when the view of Monaco is revealed to them. If you have opted for the free 30 minutes, do not waste time standing with your mouth open, start the descent immediately. For those who splashed out, we recommend enjoying a few minutes admiring the ‘wow’. The descent is shorter than the ascent and therefore steeper. The view persists for a couple of hectometres, so don't get distracted, and watch out for a few slippery sections of trail. Back in Cap d'Ail, why not take the opportunity to go for a cool-down swim at La Mala beach just a stone’s throw away. It’s a beautifully preserved cove that deserves a closer look. More Trails SAINT JEAN CAP FERRAT A relatively easy route that winds its way to Paloma Beach for impeccable views and a finish by the sea. VIEW MORE MOUNT BORON Beginning at Café du Cycliste, this is the most accessible route if you’re short of time and need to leave your gear somewhere. VIEW MORE ÈZE SEASIDE TO NICE A classic route between beautiful Riviera villas to the village of rock of Eze via Nietzsche Road and back into Nice. VIEW MORE NICE TRAIL RUNNING GUIDE For the visiting runner in Nice, you can take any number of routes and find yourself on terrific terrain with stunning scenery that will make you want to stay forever. VIEW MORE

Mount Boron This fourth option begins with a coffee at the counter of the Café du Cycliste in the harbour of Nice. The path begins a few hundred meters from here. You can reserve a locker in the cafe's cloakroom to leave your personal belongings there. You will begin your journey when you cross the threshold and finish your light stretches. You glide alongside the port, then past the beach where the coastal path begins. It’s magical on the side of the rock, overlooking the sea. The best time of day to set off on this route is certainly the morning. After three kilometres, you will arrive at the foot of a staircase which is sure to make you wince. This one is reserved for the brave; the objective is to keep running without cracking (good luck). Following the trail towards the sea then begins the ascent of Mont Boron. Nothing too difficult in terms of elevation, at most a good sweat if the sun has already risen in the sky. On Mont Boron and up to the fort, a good part is run in the shade of the pines. The 180º views over the eastern waters will reward your efforts. This is obviously a route not to be missed if you’re staying in Nice. Then it’s a gentle U-turn back to the Café to retrieve any of your personal affects. We highly recommend the homemade lemonade served at the bar. More Trails THE DOG'S HEAD Somewhat technical trail with an incredible view of Monaco at its peak and finishing at La Mala beach. VIEW MORE SAINT JEAN CAP FERRAT A relatively easy route that winds its way to Paloma Beach for impeccable views and a finish by the sea. VIEW MORE ÈZE SEASIDE TO NICE A classic route between beautiful Riviera villas to the village of rock of Eze via Nietzsche Road and back into Nice. VIEW MORE NICE TRAIL RUNNING GUIDE For the visiting runner in Nice, you can take any number of routes and find yourself on terrific terrain with stunning scenery that will make you want to stay forever. VIEW MORE

PARIS POP-UP Come and (re)discover Café du Cycliste in one of Paris most iconic department stores.   Café du Cycliste is setting coordinates for the French capital in 2023, settling at Les Galeries Lafayette Paris Haussmann for a limited time. A diverse selection of signature products and new SS23 collection for road riding and gravel adventures, plus outdoor and lifestyle products will be available. Located on the 2nd floor for Men until September 30th. LOCATION Galeries Lafayette 40, Boulevard Haussmann 75009 PARIS OPENING TIMES Monday: Tuesday: Wednesday: Thursday: Friday: Saturday: Sunday: 10h00-20h30 10h00-20h30 10h00-20h30 10h00-20h30 10h00-20h30 10h00-20h30 11h00-20h30 Galeries Lafayette, Haussmann 2023 Events Just a few of the many reasons to visit Paris and our pop-up. 25 Feb Paris, nous voilà. Café du Cycliste opens in Galeries Lafayette, Haussmann Paris. 05 Mar Paris-Nice Known as the “Race to the Sun”, the first major stage race starts with a prologue in the Paris region and ends in our hometown of Nice. 10 Mar The SS23 Collection Our latest products start to arrive and will be available in store and online. 02 Apr Paris Marathon Europe's biggest marathon descends on Paris once again. 09 Apr Paris-Roubaix The Queen of the Classics heads across the cobbles to Roubaix velodrome. 12 May SS23 Atelier Our latest limited edition Capsule collection arrives in store and online. 23 Jul The Tour de France The most famous stage race in the world finishes on the Champs Élysees. SS23 FIND OUT MORE Le Café á Nice Our flagship store and our beating heart. Visit us in Nice to discover our full range of apparel, premium bike rentals and fresh grounds. VIEW MORE Our Mallorca Store: Palma From one cyclist's playground to another. Our store in the cycling mecca of Mallorca houses our full range of apparel for both men and women. VIEW MORE Échappée Paris. Each neighbourhood has its own energy, you can find what you like by riding from one street to another, from one neighbourhood to another. VIEW MORE Riding With Purpose #2. Cycling the empty streets of Paris to deliver food to those in need, Sophie Gateau documents the capital city during the lockdown. See Sophie’s view from the saddle whilst riding with purpose, 'Pour Eux'. VIEW MORE