Things changed towards the end of the 80s, the accrual of race points became far more important to the teams and riders. Suddenly, these races became very serious as riders struggled to rise in the rankings.  From race one, early Feb, if you were not race fit, it would be a struggle to hang on. Race averages were no longer in the 30s but creeping  towards 50kph. Approaching the 91 season, I was to lead the newly formed Motorola outfit and had to try something new. I began training a month earlier, in mid-Nov. I had 6000kms in the legs by the time I headed to the team’s camp in California by mid-Jan. Even though most of these kms were spent within at a steady state heart frequency, this gave my season a jump start to my season. By the end of February, I had a bunch of wins on the board, including the Tours of Sicily and Mediterranean. My results changed the way the peleton trained through the following seasons.

Training strategies have changed again since the turn of the millennium. Where I would once build up a large base before the season, and use the team training camp and early races for intensity training, riders now are tending to have less of a km base, but beginning early on with more intensity training. The international season begins a month earlier with the TDU or that North African race Fasso? Though the season is longer, the trend is for riders to be racing less days in a season. A typical season for me would be 100-120 days of racing in the 1980s and 90s. Now a heavy season would be 80 days. Lance would have raced less than 50 days in each of his seasons.

When joining a new team, nothing speaks better than early season results. Even for the seasoned pro, the saying you are only as good as your last result, holds true. If early results are achieved, then team support is assured. Training here in Australia with our summer conditions gave me a great advantage over my European colleagues. While I was out doing 5 + hour rides, many of my team mates were snow bound and still on ergo’s or in the gym.

Of course peaking in January can be detrimental considering the length of the season in the 80′s. No point winning 5 races in the early stages of the season, only to disappear once the premier races began. It can be difficult holding early form for too long, so careful blocks of training and racing have to be planned from the outset, so your peaks arrive at the time where it counts most on the race calendar.

Team leaders are given more latitude when it comes to planning their season. We all saw Jan Ullrich arrive at his first races a little overweight and without his July form, but he stuck to a formula which worked well for him. Lance on the other hand had a specifically designed training program which built him up gradually through the season which also included test events where he could measure his progress to achieving his tour goals.

There is a great deal more to early season preparation than simply getting on the bike and hammering out the kms. For myself and any rider, whether for club events or international competition the key is to set your season’s goals.

The racing in Italy was always quite predictable, the Italian’s would not have it any other way. A rider always had time to warm up in this race, the pace slowly building throughout the day, to a crescendo finish.  There would always be a hectic sprint for the line, a frantic Italian finale.

Not unsurprisingly, one of the best things about racing in Italy was the coffee and the food.  Teams didn’t need to provide their own chef’s in Italy, oh no.  There are not sufficient superlatives to describe the wonders of freshly made pasta and wonders of Italian cuisine for a cyclist.  Heaven, and of course there were the pastries.

In the spring of 89, TVM team-mate Johan Van der Velde introduced me to one of Sicily’s finest pastries. To this day I am constantly searching for the best canoli in the cake shops of Carlton, the Italian quarter of Melbourne.

I recall flying from my home in Belgium a couple of days prior to my first Giro start, and sitting with a new Dutch team mate Johan. He had raced for the past few years on the strong Jolly Scarpa squadra team and lived in Italy. I asked what he most liked about Italy, and he replied “cannoli”. He explained that we were in fact very fortunate, because this sweet pastry had its origins in this southern Isle where we were headed. He said he would show me as soon as we got off the plane, and he didn’t disappoint.

While we were waiting for our luggage to arrive off the belt at Palermo international, I followed him over to the cafe stand and he bought me my first canoli. I tasted a freshly made cone, not unlike a Peters Drumstick cone, but open at both ends and then filled with freshly made custardy sweet cream cheese filling. I bought the next round, and in-fact, bought all that the guy had on his counter for the boys to share on the way to the hotel. Johan politely informed me that these were nothing special, probably a day old and that you really had to experience canola fresh.

That evening after dinner, half a dozen of the TVM boys hopped into a team car  and headed into town in search of the perfect cannoli. The village looked asleep but we found a gelati place open. Velde (pronounced  Veld-a) asked for the freshest supply of cannoli, and the gentleman said that his neighbour was famous for hers. He went and hammered on her door until she answered. After a little explanation, she insisted we have a coffee while she whipped a few up. Grandma came down to assist and was in charge of baking the wafer cones while the shop owner made the up custard. Oh what a delicious beginning to my Giro. I probably began the giro a couple of kg’s overweight that year…not a bad thing.

Johan Van der Velde didn’t finish the giro that year, but that is another quintessentially Italian story and part of my own Giro folk lore. I guess through circumstances Johan, despite being a pastry expert and a great rider was indebted to his ex-team’s sponsor, Jolly Scarpa. This company made  shoes and Johan put forward a proposal to sell shoes in his home-country to clear his debt.  After taking a delivery of a container load of shoes his buyer backed out and my team-mate was left with 50000 pairs of girls sandals to dispose of and of course his debt.

Despite his best efforts the lanky Dutchman couldn’t sell them, the season had come and gone and he owed Jolly a substantial amount of money.  One night at dinner, about half-way through the Giro that year, Velde’s seat was empty and the mechanic was sent to look for him.  Not in his room, not in the bar (he enjoyed a beer) not even in the cannoli shop over road. No one had seen him since arriving at the hotel.

During dinner a couple of heavy-set blokes in suits arrived at our table asking for our Dutchman. They stood at the door while we finished our meal eventually retreating to their van parked out front for the evening.  Johan didn’t front for breakfast and the mechanics didn’t know whether to take his bike to the race. It was the talk of the peleton that day and was news headlines that night. There were rumours of sightings of Velde amongst the crowd beside the road at the first intermediate sprint. TV crews were waiting for him at all the airports and at his home, but he had vanished. About a week later, he held an exclusive interview regarding the Jolly Scarpa (nee cannoli) affair. I guess the TV appearance paid his debt to the ailing shoe manufacturer.

The 89 Giro was pretty kind to me for a couple of reasons. In stage 17 from Sondrio to Meda I attacked a breakaway of Fondriest, Bugno, and Argentine in the final two kilometres to win by 5 seconds, and I was introduced to cannoli.

Of course the training regime today isn’t quite as intense as it was when I was riding for Peugeot. For the past 12 years I’ve been lucky enough to guide small groups cycling enthusiasts through France on a cultural, culinary and cycling tour-de-force.  In year 1 we tried to follow all 21 stages to see as much cycling as possible, but the pace was a bit intense so we pulled it back and over the years we’ve refined to a perfect blend that takes in all the essential elements of the Tour, with ample time for our guests to experience the magic of France at the height of summer.

A lot has changed at Le Tour since I first got my hands on the yellow jersey.  Back then you were condemned for speaking English; French was the only language spoken and respected.  Now the commentators and teams speak in both English and French.  In 1981 I was one of a handful of riders from outside Western Europe whereas now we have riders from as far as Colombia, Australia and Uzbekistan.  Back then there weren’t many ways for fans to really experience the Tour from a rider’s point of view. That’s how we got started; by using our racing contacts to put tours together. We wanted to give enthusiasts a way to experience the Tour the way we experienced it.

Today our tours usually begin with a welcome dinner where we all share a few laughs and swap stories over a couple of glasses of the local produce. Of course we all pretend to have the knowledge and experience of Phil Liggett or Mike Tomalaris as we discuss the teams’ strategies and try and share our expert opinions about who’ll be this year’s winner.  This is one of my favourite parts of the tour; sharing and talking about the excitement ahead of us is even more intoxicating than the wine.

On the first morning we rise early for a ride to get the blood flowing and take in the beautiful surrounds of France.  My team is brilliant at accommodating all levels of fitness and knows that there are usually a few who like to ride faster and few that like to enjoy the rolling hills at an easier pace.  I spend my time rolling up and down the groups listening to everyone share stories as the camaraderie between us grows.  Last year we rode between 80 and 100km on the first day and slowly extended our rides throughout the tour and took in some of the great climbs like the Col du Tourmalet, Alpe d’Huez, Col de Galibier and Most Ventoux.

Our first ride generally takes in part of a Tour stage.  It may be a stage finish where we secure ourselves a good position and cheer the sprinters home to see who takes the stage win, or we may head to the start and experience the hustle and bustle before the riders roll off.  This year we’re excited about seeing the finish of Stage 16 in Gap, a stage that will surely affect the final standings.

For a stage finish we will get to our place at least two hours before the riders come through. The time flies by as we watch the caravan roll through, pick up some free gear from the sponsors and hang out with cycling enthusiasts from all over the world.  In the past few years we’ve been lucky enough to run into some of my mates from the 80′s and jump the fence to the VIP areas.  This is always a treat.

After watching the jersey presentations we grab our belongings and ride back to the hotel with a bit of a spring in our peddles after the excitement of watching a stage finish.  The guys are a bit tired when we get back so my team and I wash all of the bikes, check the oil on the chain and make sure that bikes are secure for the next day.

Taking a leaf out of the book of our European hosts, our group rests during the late afternoon and some of us take the opportunity to get some shut eye.  I always get teased for my afternoon ‘nanna naps’ but it is amazing the difference they make after a long first day.  We don’t like to have anything formal planned for dinner on most of nights; this way our guests don’t feel pressured to meet deadlines.  Normally though a group of about 10 to 12 of us head to dinner together to chat about the day and further analyse the tour standings.  The guys love to hear some of my war stories and I have to admit it’s fun to dig them out over great French food and wine; this is what the Tour’s all about.

Days vary but we try and cater for everyone’s needs and stay flexible.  We’ll always take in the key elements from Le Tour including a stage start, finish, climb, sprint and flat.  We’ll get on the bike almost every day and tackle the roads either before or after the pros roll through.  The rest is an opportunity to make life-long friends, share stories and enjoy the magic of the greatest cycling event in the world.