Why the Tour of Flanders is the Holy Grail of Belgium’s Cycling Religion

Beer, Waffles, Chocolate. That’s all the average person knows about my native Belgium. Oh, and we’ve got a pretty decent national football team. And really, apart from that, there isn’t much else to talk about. So you can go back to doomscrolling on social media. Wait, there’s one more thing. There’s cycling.

If you ever get to either of The Low Lands, you’ll notice something. They’re both boringly, monotonously, excruciatingly, flat. Few mountains, if any, and hills worthy of the name are scarce. But we use it as an advantage. Everyone and their grandma rides a bike. People use it for their commutes, to get some exercise before work. It’s also a common means of transport when you’re living too far away from the pub but you want to get drunk on a Saturday night. But if you’ll ask my fellow Belgians about cycling, you’ll see them get starry-eyed about the long-lasting tradition of road bicycle racing in our country. We take it serious around here. Maybe too serious. One could say it’s a religion.

While road cycling is the most renowned discipline, us Belgians love visiting cyclo-cross races. The concept: a couple dozen professional cyclists riding through muddy fields. While we’re not entirely sure about why they are doing this on road racing bikes, we do know why we’re here. The events usually involve a bazillion litres of beer, a big party tent and way too much rain, mud, sometimes even snow. Imagine a couple thousand grown-ups singing carnival songs in broad daylight. The conditions are crappy, sometimes you’re literally freezing your balls off, but I promise you it’s the best thing to do on a cold Winter Sunday.

But we’re here to talk about the Tour of Flanders. Like I said, Flanders is largely flat, so when amateur cyclists need a challenge, they go climb the few hills that grace the area. The Koppenberg, Oude Kwaremont and Muur van Geraardsbergen are probably the most infamous of them all. 364 days a year, the amateurs conquer them. But on an early Sunday in April, they are all included in the biggest one day race in the world.

There’s no total abstinence in this religion though, because De Ronde is another great excuse to go drinking some of the most delicious Belgian beers with your mates. One of them was even named after one of the climbs (De Brabandere Brewery’s Kwaremont). Every year, the race attracts over 600,000 fans, creating mad scenes at the route’s hotspots.

That won’t be an option this year — something with a deadly zombie pandemic if you haven’t heard about it — but watching it on television with a friend or family member is a marvellous option as well.

But back to the heroes of the sport. In this religion, an elite group are the absolute Saints. They are the ones that flutter up these hills effortlessly. The race’s history was built on the rivalries between these legends on wheels. Eddy Merckx, Roger De Vlaeminck, Johan Museeuw, Peter Van Peteghem, Tom Boonen, Fabian Cancellara. They all claimed immortality after conquering the flanks of Flanders’ torturous hills.

Now, new stars have stood up. Belgian Wout Van Aert will try challenge Dutchman, eternal rival and former winner Mathieu Van der Poel, after a nerve-racking duel last year. World Champion Julian Alaphilippe will hope to make up for his crash in the previous edition. Old faithful Greg Van Avermaet and Philippe Gilbert will have a go at their very own Last Dance.

Oh, and I’m just looking forward to my Kwaremont beer…