Grace Brown celebrates overall victory at the Santos Tour Down Under. Photo: Tim de Waele/Getty Images
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The Giro d’Italia has come home. After a Hungarian prelude, the peloton and its entourage made a long traverse south, down to the ball kicked by the Italian boot, to the slopes of Mount Etna.
What awaited there, on the east coast of Sicily, was an abundance of local atmosphere. Fading towns, gritty buildings, old people chainsmoking, young people staring at their smartphones and dreaming of a better future. The race went past them – past the graffiti and gelaterias, past the rust and rubble – and reeled in the hulking beast that is Etna. How often does a WorldTour race ride up an active volcano? About every time the Giro comes to Mount Etna, that’s how often.
Lennard Kämna (Bora-Hansgrohe) won the day from a breakaway group of 14 riders which was steadily whittled away. Juan Pedro López (Trek-Segafredo) moved into the maglia rosa. Ineos-Grenadiers were the fruitless Fellowship of Carapaz. Nobody fell into Mount Doom.
What we did get, though, was a ridiculously atmospheric day of racing. Through the lenses of the Grubers, here are the streetscapes and people of Sicily (with a little bit of bike racing thrown in for balance).
We’re not in Hungary any more.A wholesome family balcony shot to get our sociological study of Sicily off to a happy start.A frame… …within a frame……within a frame.Miguel Ángel López was forced to withdraw early in stage four due to a left hip injury. Four umarells in the wild.A beautiful historical building redacted by a concrete roadside barrier.This way to Mount Etna.And, the Mount Etna in question. The quiet dignity of an old man in a cardigan watching a bike race from a balcony …… and the distracted indifference of the roadside fruit seller.Friends? Foes? Family?The energy-conserving lean of a man that knows there’s a bike race coming through at some point, but there’s no point getting too excited about it until you hear the helicopters going takatakatakatakatakataka and the motorbikes going parp-parp. Oh, just Siciliy’s premier Harry Potter themed pub, what of it?
(Local word is that “the butterbeer was a mixture of lots of ice and a puree of cream with caramel flavor”, just as an FYI)Astonishing, Inception-level tilework.I like how completely nonplussed this man is with this dog. More umarells, umarelling, a respectful distance apart just to make it clear that they are all lone wolves and that they need no human bonds to be content. Dapper. Dignified.Devilish.Disturbed.Distracted.Distraught.
My god, what is happening in Sicily? Is everyone OK? Guys? It gets better, I promise. Yes, let’s walk away from this suburban tragedy. Good idea.Ok, phew. After this depressing little run of photos I’m just happy to see some bunting. Riding up Mount Etna ain’t no ….Kämna and López make their way upward.A TV helicopter makes a menacing approach on the roof of a neutral service vehicle. Marco Pantani is from the opposite end of the country, but he still casts a long shadow, all these years later.More Pantani graffiti…… and, just in case you had any remaining doubt, Pantani is the king of Italian cycling. The Ineos train strings things out for no real advantage. Cavendish is shepherded home to meet the time limit, finishing almost 36 minutes after Kämna.Ineos-Grenadiers hopped in a helicopter home …… and the mist blew in, casting the scene in an even more surreal light than it already had.
FIN.
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