So, this wasn’t a normal “55-year-old writer goes on a bike trip to Provence” scenario. I had just come off of my adventures at another job where I completely lost my way as a cyclist and in some ways as a person. And when we were enthusiastically launching Fausto in May I had very little time to train. I think I did 20 rides, none of them over 90 minutes and averaging about 450 feet of climbing per ride. New England, at least where I live, is beautifully flat. Not ideal preparation for climbing Mont Ventoux. But that’s not the important part. The connection to this trip started with Brett Lindstrom, the owner of Mechanism Travel, reaching out about the Fausto launch. We set up a time to talk, and over the course of that chat we hit it off. He was rebuilding his travel company and taking over the reins of Stajvelo in North America at the exact same time we were launching Fausto, and we figured out creative ways to help each other. He was also a fan of Peloton, and we had a lot of similar interests, so I appreciated the call very much.
Sometimes when you start something new and are vulnerable, people appear out of nowhere to help you and encourage you. That was Brett. We continued to chat, and he invited me on this trip where I would also get to meet Thierry Manni, the founder of Stajvelo, in Monaco. After four years of languishing in HR nonsense—rating myself a “3” even though by any stretch of the imagination I’m at least a “5”—the thought of riding bikes in Provence, interviewing an F1 luminary (Thierry is the uncle of Ferrari’s Charles Leclerc) and starting my adventures in Monaco sounded almost too good to be true. (click here for that story)
There’s been attempts to dissuade me from Marseille—‘You don’t want to go there’—and yet I come here. Correct me if I’m wrong: It is a beautiful city. It smells good—you smell the different pastries, the tajine.
— the late Anthony Bourdain
THE ADVENTURE
The trip was based by design out of Marseille, which is sort of a punk-rock decision to begin with. American tourists, unless they are obsessed with Anthony Bourdain (I am), tend to avoid the second largest city in France because it has a history of crime and it’s not perfectly put together and a little rough around the edges. It’s also fantastic and beautiful and the opposite of boring. This intrigued me as I got to my hotel after a long flight and walked around the city waiting for my check-in time. Both Erik and Alex (colleagues of Brett) live in Marseille, so it gave everyone on the trip firsthand knowledge of the districts, the history and the creative power of the city. My first few days were spent in Monaco, where I learned about the Stajvelo business, got to ride e-bikes on the Grand Prix course and meet Thierry’s team. The guests arrived, all of whom were friends from San Diego and all with different ambitions and goals for their trip.
THE EXPERIENCE
For me, and I think for the other guests, this was a trip about firsts. Everyone’s first time to Marseille, first time in Monaco, first time to visit the Stajvelo headquarters, first time riding and wandering through Provence, visiting Saint-Paul-de-Vence, the Verdon Gorge and the lavender fields, riding from Marseille to Cassis for coffee, and confronting the beautiful monster of a mountain, the Ventoux. The trip was also bookmarked by stories from Brett about his years racing bikes in France as a young adult, studying in Aix-en-Provence, choosing to forego a normal college experience in the United States to learn and live and race in France.
I remember seeing tears in the eyes of a mother and father as their 21-year old son made it to the top of Ventoux on his first bike trip—he got there before me.
This area to him was like a homecoming of a time in his life when everything was also a first and it framed the trip perfectly for me. Add that to Erik’s passion, knowledge and love of Provence (and specifically Marseille) gave this trip more of a personal connection rather than just miles and check-listing climbs and rides. Every dinner was planned down to the wine pairings to highlight local cuisine, and at some point Brett and his wife Kelly would reveal the ride for the following day. This was usually after some wine, so guests (including me) could enjoy each other and dinner and not obsess about the mileage or elevation the following day. It was intimate, creative, calm, full of stories and personal journeys, and fueled by food that I still think about.
THE MEMORIES
As I write this, it seems like a long time ago that I was learning pétanque from Erik (and eventually beating him because I had a great teammate in Kelly) or that I was riding Stajvelo e-bikes on the Monaco GP course, eating oysters with Thierry and photographer Nicolas Joly or getting in the van at the top of the Col du Vance with Pam asking me if my face normally gets that red. It was 96 degrees, but I think the red level was understandably shocking.
I remember seeing tears in the eyes of a mother and father as their 21-year old son made it to the top of Ventoux on his first bike trip—he got there before me. I imagine most of his friends at home have no idea what a huge accomplishment that is at any age. Or watching Brett guide a guest who wanted to not only climb Ventoux once, but twice in the same day. He did it. I also remember the gift of a pétanque set on the night of my 27th wedding anniversary from the Mechanism Team knowing that I wasn’t able to celebrate with my wife. I remember dinner at Marseille’s Le Petit Nice Passedat restaurant and seeing chef Gérald Passedat in action, the final dinner and the toasts and stories about the trip, the awards given out to people, the emotional stories when time stopped for a bit, all of us away from home in a hotel lobby, riding bikes until we could barely talk and loving every moment of it.
I can’t seem to shake the trip. It was the company, the kindness of Brett and Kelly and Erik (my forever roommate and pétanque guru), the gritty beauty of Marseille, that ride to Cassis and of course the adventure that was Mont Ventoux. I think, in fact I know, I want to do this trip with these same people every year, and I don’t really care where we are going. I’m thinking next year I won’t have to demure to the e-bike but honestly it made everything possible for me at this stage of my fitness journey and recovery from four years of haphazardly riding my bike while I was stuck in Zoom meetings for eight hours a day. That will never happen again, but I hope another trip does. I might be slow up the climbs and timid on the descents, but I kick ass at dinner and pétanque.
BUY ISSUE 003
