At 1:30 PM, arriving via the off-course route, the gendarme stationed at the roundabout entrance on the stage route is rather gruff towards the cyclists. Classic sign of crossed arms - and whoever passed has passed. Up there opens a stadium of 600 thousand people.

Chronicles of ordinary Alpe d'Huez, nothing new, yet surprising every time. Etonnante as they say around here. At the start of the climb, at the canonical 13.8 kilometers from the finish, you already sense it, not only because in the end it's an electrifying and catalyzing déjà-vu, but what awaits first the support vehicles and then them, the riders.

Down with the 21 hairpin turns, a procession that has become history, Maurizio from Turin knows this well, positioned with his camper at the fifth hairpin, proud in front of the Sardinian flag that betrays his origins: "my wife stayed with the grandchildren, I'm here almost every time, even when Italians race in a minor key. In Pantani's days I climbed with a motorcycle, today I've wisely switched to electric, which I've also used these days. And anyway, I hope to return to applaud one of ours, aware of Finn's skill".

An enlightened opinion from the not-too-large Italian contingent on the roadside, where we are present, but nothing compared to the golden days. A group of young people 8 kilometers from the finish cheers for Piganzoli, a lady from Cuneo, who also arrived by camper already on Tuesday (after that it would have been impossible to secure the coveted front-row spot) and caught up in the anticipation, even if... "we're running out of supplies". A Mexican couple, at the 5-kilometer mark of the climb, came directly from overseas to support Del Toro and display a beautiful national flag, others will join in that narrow corridor of public already squeezed by the passage of press and team vehicles.

At Alpe d'Huez, a mixture renews itself between cycling enthusiasts and spectators more aligned with a carnival or Oktoberfest model, which makes caravan rental companies smile. One might turn their nose up a bit when the orthodoxy of the true follower is tainted by people dressed as monks, in Hawaiian shirts or as Scots, equipped with kilts and cases of beer. From the loudspeakers comes "Desire", sung in chorus by people of various nationalities, but credit goes to that swarm of Lenny Martinez supporters, who went to cover a computer monitor with a makeshift cardboard to avoid sun glare. Ingenious and interested in understanding how the stage will unfold.

At 5 kilometers to the finish, there's an almost scientific division of the hairpin turns; one for you, say the Dutch, one for me, reply the Danes. The landscape opens up, delivering to view the cycling stadium where, in less than three hours, Pogacar will perfect his fierce comeback over Martinez and Carapaz. The roar for Seixas cannot turn into outright disappointment, call us optimists, but today and tomorrow the prevailing Seixasmania was indeed perceived, complete with impactful giant photographs hung at a "virage". A slight detour to reach the upper part of the village, the 1835 meters: the sight of the crowd at the barriers is even more impressive, with meadows towards Col de La Sarenne in the background, tomorrow's battlefield. Just meters from the finish line, meanwhile, there isn't a square meter of free grass, a profusion of Canadian tents that clashes somewhat with the four stars of the Hotel Pic Blanc, where Visma Lease a Bike is staying. A double Alpe in pure form once again strikes the arrow to the heart of those who love cycling, the rest is always done by him. Tadej from Komenda.