we dream of jensie... and the peloton in general


bradley wiggins

Me and Wiggo were doing the Olympics in Rio last night, from our base at my house in Scotland. I was all kitted up, fully in the knowledge that my 8hrs a week training would leave me to get “found out” when the flag went down!


adam hansen

On a commuter bus, Adam Hansen is discussing the odd page numbering of his newspaper with the old couple sitting across from him. I’m sitting in the double seat behind the old couple, also facing Hansen. The bus driver, also in his late 50’s, chimes in. Hansen, holding his paper, is turning the pages back and forth, still puzzled about the numbering, while the three people around him are making a mess of trying to explain a Belgian newspaper to Adam Hansen.

I explain that the page number is on the upper left corner of every page, and that the column on the right-hand side of every right-hand page tells you what’s coming up on the next two pages. Every little headline having page and column number next to it.

Disclaimer : Belgian newspapers aren’t at all designed in this way.
They are just like normal newspapers.


edvald boasson hagen

I was trying to have my picture taken with Edvald Boasson Hagen but unfortunately the height difference was proving a problem. He was much smaller than me, and appeared to be getting smaller by the minute. Our photographer was someone I know via twitter (even though we’ve never met in real life and I have no idea what she looks like). We decided we needed to know how tall Edvald actually was, and she kindly offered to look it up in her magazine. While this was happening I decided to kneel down, but Edvald was still getting shorter. My twitter pal handed the magazine to Edvald to see if he could look up his own height, but it fell open on an advertisement about feminine products and Edvald burst out laughing.


alex dowsett

I was cheering him at the end of a race & he smiled at me.


cadel evans

I dreamt that Cadel was my team leader at work. I saw someone shoplifting, so I went to look for him to tell him (the shoplifter was a very big tall man). I looked everywhere but I couldn’t find him. PS I never said it was an interesting dream.


marcel kittel

In a dark room, I was gently woken by Marcel Kittel. From where he stood beside the bed, he leaned across me, placing one hand on the cotton sheets next to my shoulder and moving slowly closer. I stroked his smooth naked back, and curled my palms and fingers around his muscular shoulders with a sigh.

After a few moments, the stillness of the night was broken by his husky whisper in German-accented English.

“Ze toilet in my room… eet ees broken.”

I followed a topless Marcel along the hotel corridor and he led me to his bathroom, where there was a gushing sound as water was constantly running into the toilet bowl. I soon had the cistern lid off, jiggled a few plastic bits, and miraculously fixed the problem. My handsome blond companion shot me a captivating smile and looked immensely impressed.

“I just need to wash my hands”, I grinned seductively, washing and scrubbing my hands thoroughly. I wouldn’t want to transfer any germs onto this fine German now, would I? Especially not in the middle of a Grand Tour.

Marcel had other ideas. “Have a shower instead!”

And there he was, in the shower wearing a clingy white t-shirt and white pyjama shorts with water cascading over every rippling muscle in film star perfection. He nodded for me to join him, which I did. Well, it would have been rude not to?

“I can’t do anything,” he spoke quietly, his voice barely audible over the sound of the shower stream, “it’s a sprint stage tomorrow.”

The next morning, Marcel caught my eye across the hotel lobby and he gave me a subtle sexy wink.

We both knew it wasn’t a sprint stage the following day.


nicolas roche

I dreamt I was working in an office, and Nicolas Roche was my boss. He was wearing a black suit. I looked down, and saw that I was wearing the new fluo Tinkoff-Saxo shorts, but their regular jersey. “We have to get you a new one (jersey)” he said.


chris froome

I dreamt Chris Froome won the Tour de France. And I was so disappointed: “He won again?” 


jens voigt / taylor phinney / bauke mollema / ben swift

I dreamt I was walking around with @heidimo06, @melissagerman and @igster77. Jens Voigt and Taylor Phinney were posing for pictures in front of a big VeloVoices bus. Jens was in the red polka dots. Then Heidi took pictures of a BMC car, and when we looked up, we saw Bauke Mollema looking out a window, and waving at us. Then we spotted Ben Swift, who had snuck in with the Team Sky rider, even if he weren’t supposed to be there. He was wearing a black track suit with small Sky logos. 


tom boonen

I dreamt I was at a barbeque, when I saw Tom Boonen. But he had a belly and a big black moustache. Then some guy was showing him his bike