We made our way through the Belgian countryside to our first destination, and this is where a little bit of local knowledge goes a long way. We pulled up in quiet lane, with a rather lonely looking old pub. In we went for the first beer of the day. This is the Belgian way to see the Ronde, so we were told...
Soon we headed back out onto the lane way to walk down another lane that came out at the top of the hill/climb known as the Oude Kwaremont. There were two campervans parked here and amongst the spectators already gathered, the beers were flowing.
Leaving Brugges about an hour before the main race starts is the women's version of the Ronde van Vlaanderen, and this is what we watched come through. They were flying too! Much faster than anyone I saw the day before. Once through, we headed back to that same pub, which had had a small population explosion and was now quite packed. Another beer and we watched the main race unfolding on the tv's in the pub. When the riders reached a certain part of the race, our guides shepherded us outside and down yet another laneway.
It didn't take long to discover that we were actually at the top of another hill known as the Knokteberg. (Don't you love the names!) From here we were to watch the main race come through. They then turned right, then turned left past the pub, and down to the village of Oude Kwaremont before coming up the 1.2kms of cobblestoned hill known as the Oude Kwaremont. We on the other hand had to leg it back towards the pub, past it, and down the laneway where we'd just been to see the ladies race. We made it with little time to spare...
Back to the van after the riders were through, and onwards towards the next section. Not quick enough though, as we got caught in the traffic jam that ensued. Yep, we weren't the only ones with the idea of driving on to another section of the race.
The traffic snarl eventually eased and we were off at something I'm sure was a little above the speed limit. Winding our way through the country lanes and roads of Flanders saw us eventually arrive at Geraardsbergen, the township that contains the Muur-Kapelmuur. Unfortunately, with the way that the course of the race winds its way through Flanders it means that the famous climbs are all quite close together. That is, they're not far enough apart to be able to see the race go by, then move onto another one that's nearby when you add the logistics of traffic and thousands of others wanting to do the same. This is why we found ourselves at the Muur so early. This was a good thing too as you did need some time to get around on it as well as take it all in.
We were parked near the bottom of the township where the course begins to head upwards. Many people were already lining the streets, as well as all the pubs, cafés and hospitality tents obviously making quite a day out of it.
On the way up towards the actual cobbled section that is The Muur, you pass by two town squares, and both were sprawling with people. The higher you went, the more people there were, and the atmosphere was carnival-like. All waiting to see which riders were in the lead and who would be first over the top. Now, I don't want any aspersions cast, but I did manage to find a spot up near the top, that just happened to be right next to a beer tent...
Thankfully, the locals against the barrier just in front of me, could speak English and happily gave me updates on the race from the mobile phone they were listening to. Needless to say, we had a merry old time up there alongside a cobbled street just below a church (see the pic at the very top of this thread. You just have to love the Belgians!
We heard the roar long before we saw the riders, and when they came through, the place erupted. It was expected that last year's winner (the Swiss rider, Fabian Cancellara) would be by himself, but wasn't, so the race was well and truly on. The fact that he was shadowed closely by a member of a Belgian team (Sylvain Chavanel), as well as a Belgian rider (Phillippe Gilbert) being only a few metres back in third, meant that the Belgians were ecstatic. We watched and cheered many of the leading riders, and many spectators stayed to see more of them as they came through in the small chase groups.
I, like many others, was off after about the first thirty were past. Straight back to the higher of the two town squares - the one with the big screen that was showing the live broadcast of the race. Riders were still coming up as we headed down, and I joined thousands of spectators in that square to watch the final 20kms. Just a little odd that the course was going straight through the middle of this square (you can see the archway in the pic below). It meant that while we were watching the leaders on the big screen, the main bunch and any others that were off the pace, would ride through the middle of us.
An amazing finish too, as the Belgian, Gilbert (pronounced "Jhill-bear") attacked on the final helligen (the Bosberg) to take the lead, so you can imagine the crowd's reaction. He was caught a little later with several kilometres to go by a small group. It then kicked off again about 3kms from the finish when Cancellara went for it. Two riders went with him, but the others couldn't. The aforementioned Chavanel, and yet another Belgian, Nick Nuyens.
The three were together with about 500metres to go, and the others behind gaining quickly on them. Again, Cancellara went for it, and again, the other two chased hard behind him. They succeeded in passing him just before the line with Nuyens crossing the line first to send the Belgians in the crowds completely mental.
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