From Barcelona to Paris, from Gaudí's Sagrada Familia to the restored Notre Dame and the reconfirmed Basilica of Montmartre: the 2026 Grande Boucle is pushing Italian purists to console themselves with a feast of masterpieces of sacred architecture. In other words, for us devotees of historic cycling, this time we're looking at the Tour of France with greater interest than the competitive Tour of France. But we're not giving up: it would be like snubbing the World Cup in Mexico-Canada-USA simply because Gennaro Gattuso's Azzurri are on the beach instead of in America.
As the images of the presentation of the 23 teams at the start of the 113th Tour de France scroll by—the cycling event par excellence that renews itself year after year—we are inevitably forced to highlight the paucity of Italian participation in cycling's elite: just 12 riders out of a total of 184 protagonists.
That's 6,5 percent of the entire squad. And many of them are destined to play manual labor roles, entirely at the behest of contemporary architects of bicycle-painting masterpieces: Tadej Pagacar (Slovenia), Jonas Vingegaard (Denmark), Remco Evenepoel (Belgium), Mathieu Van Der Poel (Netherlands). And then we get to the stage hunters, the vocational lieutenants, the "directors" who, in cycling, closely resemble the midfielders of old in football.
At the start are Edoardo Affini, Davide Piganzoli, Lorenzo Germani, Antonio Tiberi, Damiano Caruso, Simone Velasco, Davide Ballerini, Marco Frigo, Stefano Oldani, Mattia Cattaneo, Matteo Trentin and Filippo “Top” Ganna, who could convince his teammates to escort him as best they can in the initial team time trial and let him cross the finish line first, which – if his team wins – would mean donning the yellow jersey over the tricolour one of Champion of Italy, thus making amends for the tragic start of the previous year (read: withdrawal).
The newly announced hope underscores how distant the 1990s and the early 21st century are, when Gianni Bugno, Claudio Chiappucci, Marco Pantani, and Vincenzo Nibali… plus Mario Cipollini—were at the center of operations. It's not a good idea to hope for the yellow jersey at the end of the first stage for those accustomed to crowning the Grande Bouche with the symbol of victory at the end of the final day in Paris.
That's how it is, unfortunately.
This doesn't exempt us from circling our very personal July calendar with the unmissable dates of a tour that sets out from Barcelona and heads toward the final destination of the Champs-Élysées in Paris, with an architecturally remarkable detour through Montmartre. In other words, we begin with Antoni Gaudí's Sagrada Familia, skillfully transitioning from Gothic to Art Nouveau, before arriving at the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, designed by Paul Abadie in the Romano-Byzantine style, built with self-cleaning stones (!) one after the other: a magical box within which to enclose the gigantic Mosaic of Christ in Glory.
The Basilica par excellence is the pearl overlooking Paris, right in the heart of the artists' quarter, and stands out from all the other churches in the French capital, including Notre Dame Cathedral, which magically rose from the fire of April 2019. The restoration was so successful that even founder Maurice de Sully and architects Raymond du Temple, Jan de Chelles, and Jean Ravy, exponents of French Gothic architecture, would be as pleased as they were when they saw their history-making project approved by the Church. We'll have to wait until the last Sunday in July to fully experience the images of Montmartre, discovered by cycling for the 2024 Paris Olympics and graced by the 2025 and 2026 Tours de France, which returned to their lavish and festive finale in the capital after their digression in Nice.
Perhaps due to the lack of Italians initially predicted to be protagonists in the fight for the yellow jersey, perhaps due to a certain nostalgia for Paris, perhaps because architecture overshadows sport in the complicated narrative of the history of the countries and their peoples, it's natural to turn on the TV to enjoy the images ricocheted around the world from the second support helicopter even before those from the webcam on helicopter number 1 following the race.
From the Sagrada Familia to Montmartre, there's everything and more in between: we'll also discover the most remote corners of France as the competitive battle ebbs and flows depending on the racing tactics of Pogacar & Co. A bit like it was throughout the spring of the Monument Classics and as will happen in October in the final stages of an increasingly intense sporting season, poorly celebrated by sports commentators.
So let's reduce the volume of the television to a minimum and enjoy the images of the most celebrated monuments as it regularly happens with:
- the Sanctuary of Nostra Signora della Guardia sul Poggio which dominates Sanremo in the final heartbeats of the season-opening Classicissima, which betrays the Duomo in favour of the equally famous Certosa di Pavia;
- the little church of the other Our Lady (of Oudenberg) on top of the Muur of Grammont in the always spectacular and inimitable finale of the Tour of Flanders;
- the church of Saint Anthony in Compiegne and the Saint Martin church in Roubaix (the oldest in the city) where the Paris-Roubaix is born and dies every year and which the riders don't even enjoy because they are too busy starting or consuming the hostilities generally hanging on the sentence of the Carrefour de l'Arbre, in the Gruson area, about twenty kilometres from what is known as the true Sanctuary of Hell…: the Velodrome!
- The Sanctuary of Notre Dame de la Satre at the top of the Mur de Huy (1.300 to be “drank” in one breath) in the heart of Wallonia which is home to the famous Arrow of the two wheels;
- St. Paul's Cathedral and St. Paul's Collegiate Church, just a stone's throw away from where the “Doyenne” starts and finishes, the oldest of the classic road races: the Liège-Bastogne-Liège;
- the votive church of Ghisallo, a stone's throw from the museum commissioned by Fiorenzo Magni, which has now become a hub for selfie-takers, betraying its original purpose and becoming more of a warehouse; and the Cathedral of Como or Bergamo (with its Baptistery), depending on where and how the Giro di Lombardia is designed.
The list highlights what non-competitive cycling offers us every year, making up for the lack of Italian champions. It's a shame to ignore the challenge of the Grande Bouche: Spain and France offer architectural gems and anthologically significant non-sporting moments. If the comparison is permissible, it would be like snubbing the spotlight on the Aztec Stadium, Niagara Falls, Manhattan's Fifth Avenue, etc., simply because Gennaro Gattuso's Italian team is a mere beach, while the Argentine and Brazilian prodigies, as well as the surprising French, Moroccan, and Norwegian teams, are thriving in the World Championships spread across Mexico, Canada, and the United States.
Let's dig into the popcorn and cheer for Helicopter 2.
