It started with an idea I had in February: begin in Munich and pass through all the Café du Cycliste locations on the way to seeing the total eclipse in Mallorca. If all went to plan, we’d also witness the final stage of the Tour de France in Paris, the Queen stage of the Tour de France Femmes in Ventoux and its finale in Nice. Riding humongous days at times to meet the schedule, camping for some stretches and catching a ferry to Mallorca.

The idea was to celebrate the Star Chasing collection with a serious ride, but also to reflect on setting a grand objective, and to set out on an adventure and bring it to fruition with incredible experiences along the way. That’s what I think it means to be a Forever Outsider. Our gear is the best companion to take with you on any adventure.

I left Munich with Paul, our manager there, and some friends on a rainy grey day, then continued that leg alone into Bavaria, to dance with the Danube and descend down the Black Forest hills and cross the Rhine into France. I then made my way through the Champagne region to Paris, where Josh (a Café du Cycliste ambassador) joined me. Camping in hammocks in different forests across France, we made our way down to the giant of Provence. Over the beautiful climbs of the Morvan and the bucolic Burgundy hills before dropping into the Rhône valley and snaking along under a beating sun, finally leaving the banks of the river to make our way through vineyards into Provence.

After watching the race, Josh and I were joined by Chris (from the Palma store), Francisco (a friend and fan of the brand) and Victor (the manager in Bédoin), as well as both our Johanna ambassadors, to take on riding from Ventoux to Nice in a day. At 280 kilometres, a beautiful epic of a ride down sweltering valleys before rising from the cerulean waters of the Lac de Ste Croix into the gorges of the Verdon and the Maritime Alps, where we gratefully descended to the coast and along to Nice.

After a few drinks at the official Zwift Tour de France Femmes after party and a short night, we only had one day to catch the ferry to Mallorca to get there on time to witness the eclipse – the non-negotiable final objective of this grand sortie. That ferry was leaving Sète, an intimidating 380km away – a brutal distance to cover in a single day.

That day of pain and overcoming was my highlight. We left Nice 23 hours before the ferry, riding past the beautiful terracotta cliffs of the Esterel that fall into the sea, before heading inland to face the most stifling heat yet. With temperatures up to 46 degrees, as the hydration stops multiplied and got longer, we started to doubt we could make it in time. However, after a long flat stretch and a couple of tough climbs we started descending and the speed as well as the waning light of day abated the heat. We were moving quickly again and our morale rose with our velocity. We stopped at 9PM for some dinner in a little village. 240km done and 140 to go. The people there had mastered the art of immobility and welcomed us and encouraged us – despite having no affinity with cycling – and pizzas, noodles, kebabs and maybe a small beer were ingested to fuel up for the night. The prospect of finding water and food at night in France was scarce.

We set off again at a blistering pace eager to make progress, thousand of lumens fighting for supremacy over the darkness. The beautiful plane tree-lined roads of France that give it so much charm now created eery crooked shadows from our spotlights as we forged on. Finally, in the Camargue, we got to the sea, and the strong smell of iodine and salt overwhelming our strained senses. A storm was raging with streaks of lightning appearing at sporadic intervals. Everyone was exhausted and sleep was creeping in. The salty air was so thick it stuck to the skin and we gleamed under streetlights through seaside towns.

340km done and we felt we were there, but the last 40km were the most mentally crushing. Deserted beach towns at 3am all look the same, and it felt like the sand on the beachfront cycle lanes was quicksand. After two more aching hours we arrived at Sète and went straight to the ferry port, where we slept on benches before hobbling into the belly of the ferry. Clambering into the cabin at 8am, we slept as if the day was the night.

We arrived in Mallorca that evening and the next morning rode the climbs of the Tramuntana along the coast under yet more stifling temperatures. Finally arriving in Palma to a warm welcome from Marnix and Cristian, who make up the shop team with Chris.

And then it was time for the eclipse. Thousands of kilometres for 96 seconds of darkness. For me, it was a moment of utmost peace, as if the rush of everything going on, all those pedal strokes and moments of communal cycling madness in Munich, Paris, Bédoin and Nice had all been to find that moment – like a dish cooked with so many tools, ingredients and elements was finally placed in front of me to be contemplated and consumed.