soigneurs waiting

in the distance, my collegue the fabulous monsieur okbobo is taking photos. of me i guess.

infernal galibier

bros annecy

it was with a certain amount of melancholia i rushed back into le tour. i had a car accident in italy, and got stuck there with a broken car and a few bruises. i stayed in a pensione in aosta with my friend johannes. he is a strip club dj and the owner of a wonderful personality.

when i made it back to the race, the riders were preparing themselves for a race on their own. contre le montre.

'j'adore'

'i dont know' i said, when she asked me where the russians where.

i followed her around for 30 minutes to see what she was up to.

velodrome sarajevo

on my trip through europe i stayed for 2 weeks in my apartment in sarajevo. from the living room you can see the velodrome. i've had this apartment for 3 years. the velodrome is almost undamaged by the wars. its made from concrete and steel.

saxo astana briancon

mean and cruel

treat me like a fool.

when the peloton eats up a breakaway of hard fighting young riders digging for gold, it kills me a little.

its mean and its cruel. its brutal. i love it.

velo melankolia

this is where it all began.

the classics.

cycling-at-large.

liègè. liègè. liègè.

sun in my eyes

'i had the sun in my eyes' he explained

being asked why he didnt get into the breakaway made him feel like back in school in suburban bilbao.

'toot toot toooot'

from the background, i could hear the sound of a man playing trumpet with his lips. it sounded like some sort of jazz to me.

good to see you!

'hey jakob, good to see you!' he yelled when he arrived in murcia.

i could hear the autofocus on my canon going back and forth, as if it was searching for someone or something to aim at.

on my left, the attaché de presse made sure that nobody did what they were not explicitly told to do.

hillside audience I

hillside audience II

even in spain they come. silently rollin' in, in their campers. they love tom boonen. i love them. the belgians.


two good looking men, partially protected from the burning sun. 36 degrees celsius. spain on a monday.


'hey, the riders are a commin'!'


road side bar. cuba libre. cold beers and 3 men.

my partner in crime

ladies'n'gentlemen. lemme introduce to yall! monsieur okbo. also called monsieur okbobo. tjahbombom.

why you are always around?

damiano asked me with a smile on his pretty face.

'this is what i do' i told him

he shook my hand.

'but' i followed 'why are you always around, mr. pretty locks?'

'i dont know man' he said, now with sort of an empty look in his eyes.

immediately he drove away to his team-bus.

hi speed la vuelta

after etapa 10 of la vuelta 09 i met up with jakob fuglsang at the saxo bus.

'hombre, that was a close one' i said to him.

'you cant imagine how hard it is jakob' he said, and drove away to the hotel on his bike. he didnt even bother to go on the bus.

its so easy

certainly a drink or two makes me think. it even makes me reflect actually. this is what all the photographers are travelling 3.500 km. to get. and its so easy to capture - im telling you the truth here - that i dont even bother. today in la vuelta i got captured behind a line and was not allowed to move from there. my mistake. then i thought that maybe i should get the most from the situation. this is what it left me with.

its not fair

and its really not ok

go baby go

vuelta a espana

saying goodbye this morning wasn't the hardest part of the day. the heat was unbearable. and so was the smell of dead animals and burning rubber.

lil devil

wondering.

whos shoulder is this lil devil's sittin' at this year?