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Closed roads, fast group riding, pro-style support and a stand off with baboons, Susannah Osborne finds the Cape Rouleur is a road cycling holiday like no other...

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Pros don't fix punctures, they simply wave and the support car arrives at speed to swap their wheel with a brand new one. If they fancy a mid-ride snack, that too will be brought to them - you won't see Mark Cavendish or Chris Froome fighting with a grimy wheel in the gutter or leaning their bike up at a petrol station and diving in for a Ginsters and Coke. Pros don't have to worry about anything but the riding...

Which is where HotChillee's Cape Rouleur delivers for amateurs. This four-stage, multi-day sportive based in and around the beautiful mountain town of Franschhoek in South Africa's Western Cape, is an event where everyone gets to ride like a pro, or at least be treated as one

Like all HotChillee events the Cape Rouleur is a 'professional event for amateurs'. This means that it takes place on closed roads, with motorbike outriders, lead cars filled with ride fuel and snacks, mechanics' vans (with spare wheels), a race doctor and a 'broom wagon', should you want to retire early.

What the pros don't get in the Tour de France, the Giro or the Vuelta however, is the chance to stop for delicious lunches and take time to relax by a pool in a beautiful location. We do, and the picture-postcard town of Franschhoek of whitewashed walls and Cape Dutch architecture, surrounded by mountains, vineyards and full of first-class restaurants and street-side cafes.

Set in the Berg River valley the town is the sort of place where couples honeymoon and lunch is a two-hour affair involving bottles of chilled Chardonnay, sun-blushed salads and filet mignon. (It's worth knowing that with the strength of the pound against the Rand said lunch would probably cost just over a tenner.)

Franschhoek's gorgeously warm Mediterranean climate, relaxed atmosphere - think northern California meets cheery southern France - make it an ideal place to restore body and soul.

But despite masquerading as a luxury holiday this is really is a challenging cycle event. Things kick off with a prologue, a 7.6km time trial where riders are seeded into three groups (fast, medium and steady). What follows, are three stages that range in distance from 112km to a whopping 208km plus a leisurely, 100-km 'festival ride' to Cape Town - the icing on the cake.

Now in its fourth year, this 600km event is ultimately a multi-day sportive but what sets it apart is the timed sections on each stage that transition the Rouleur from a leisurely spin to a handlebar-chewing race (albeit for only around 20km a day).

 

Time to ride...

Day one starts with a 153km roll out towards the Swartland farmlands and includes a poignant stop at the Drakenstein prison, Nelson Mandela's half-way house from where he made his long walk to freedom in 1990. All's going well until the Green Section.

Green in Grand Tour cycling parlance equals sprint, which in most languages equals red-zone suffering. The next 2km feel more like Mount Everest than a short drag and I begin to regret last night's indulgences. There's little respite before the 14-km yellow 'race' section - but at least there's a carrot dangling at the end of this next 30-minute effort - lunch.

There's more to come after the break though; standing between us and the hotel swimming pool is a testing 3km climb out of the town of Stellenbosch, which on a full belly is a tough call.

That said, as we cruise back to Franschhoek in 30-degree heat, past vineyards and apple farms, the warm sun on my back, I know that the effort has been worth it. What follows, is a chilled afternoon laced with one (okay, two or three) glasses of some fine local Cape wine.

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Franschhoek means French Corner, as the town was first settled by French Huguenots in 1688. The names of the numerous wine estates in and around the town - La Cotte, Cabrière, Provence, Chamonix, La Dauphine - show that, despite being one of South African's oldest towns, the extensive viticulture that exists here still has its roots firmly fixed in La France.

 

The real meaning of 'epic'

Epic is a much overused term in road cycling and one that's rarely applied appropriately. A 100km ride around the Surrey hills is not epic. But a scenic, 208km cycle along sun-baked, wind-scoured roads that starts in the dark and finishes 12 hours later, having taken in three mountain passes, 20km of fast, flat intense racing is, in my mind, legitimately 'epic'.

The day starts with a relatively calm roll out back towards Stellenbosch, a serene University town in the heart of the Cape Winelands. Passing through the tree-lined streets our group of 40 or so riders is silent, maybe something to do with the 4.30am wake up call and the 200 plus km ahead.

After 30km the lead car pulls over into what seems like a non descript car park. The group remains silent but it turns out that this is our first 'comfort' break of the day and before us is a table topped with a tower of chocolate and blueberry muffins and fresh coffee. Grown adults start behaving like children at a birthday party, riders are grabbing at muffins and downing hot drinks and within seconds the mood changes - gone are the sombre faces and complaints of achy legs replaced with excited chatter about what lies ahead.

From here we head to the coast. The motorbike outriders that accompany HotChillee events make this a seamless ride - we pass through red lights without stopping, oncoming traffic is stopped in its tracks and any sign of road rage from the vehicles that come across our group is quashed by Cindy, an assertive, larger than life lady on a 950cc motorbike.

As we approach the sea a welcome cooling breeze sets in; the temperature is already in the 30s and it's only 10am. We spend the next hour or so cruising along an undulating, snaking road with the Atlantic Ocean crashing to our left, it's close to cycling perfection.

But then it gets better - within the foaming waters a pod of Dolphins appears. The mother and her babies swim alongside us diving in and out of the water - they're showing off but we're all impressed. Like chaperones they stay by our side until we temporarily leave the coast and head inland. I wave them goodbye.

As we approach Betty's Bay the pace ups and the chatter ceases once more - a 19km 'yellow' race section stands between us and our luxury lunch, so it's head down and teeth gritted once more.

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Lunch is at Arabella Hotel and Spa where some riders take a Lycra-clad dip in the pool. Here there's a choice to be made - continue on an optional, fully-supported ride back to Franschhoek to earn a 'double century badge'. Or, quit while we're ahead and take the transfer back to basecamp. Surprisingly most of the group go large and opt for the extra three mountain passes and 82 kilometres. Peer pressure means that so do I.

 

Kings of the Mountain

The last day of serious riding dawns - a day of climbing, which is a tough call after so long in the saddle yesterday. The first test is the 7.2km Franschhoek Pass, which is where we encounter a pack of baboons sitting in the middle of the road. The stop is welcome but I have no idea how to negotiate this particular hurdle.

The baboons are clearly KOM on this stretch of tarmac and although my legs feel like lead, I still want to complete the day's riding. Spread like an army across the road they look us up and down, as if they're checking out our bikes planning a smash and grab. The stand off continues for a few minutes until finally they nonchalantly walk away, tails in the air, reluctantly letting us continue.

After a fast and exhilarating descent comes the spectacular Viljoens Pass, a stretch of beautiful tarmac first laid in the 1800s, that winds its way up from fruit orchards into the Groenland Mountains. Below the pass views stretch into Apple Valley - the core of the Cape's apple industry.

At the peak, in the Hottentots Holland Nature Reserve, the hillsides are thick with Fynbos, the fine shrubland of this small belt of the Western Cape and the air thick with the smells of nature in the raw.

A pleasant 70km is rewarded with lunch at Houw Hoek Farm Stall, famous for its pies; steaming bundles of chicken and mushroom, steak and pepper or venison wrapped in hot, flaky, crumbling pastry. It's certainly not the food of athletes, especially when topped off with a slab of dark, rich chocolate brownie laced with thumb-sized rocks of chocolate. The problem is that I feel like I've earned it...

Back in Franschhoek - but not before a second climb of the pass, I reflect on the event. It's been a special experience and one that is hard to compare to the hectic, big European sportives, like the Etape or Marmotte. The camaraderie that comes from spending four days riding with the same people is unique. The riding is tough and my legs hurt but with spectacular weather, incredible landscapes and new cycling buddies you can only leave the Cape Rouleur with a smile on your face.

The next day we spin 110km down to Cape Town on a 'festival ride'. Back in the city the champagne flows but for some the riding is not over. What's clever about the Rouleur is that it precedes the famous Cape Cycle Tour, the world's largest timed cycle race. As a HotChillee rider you get a VIP entry to the race and to the hospitality, where the theme of hard riding and fine food and drink continues. The smile widens.

 

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