Grand Départ de Barcelona

Barcelona had been getting ready for days. The seafront, the area around the Sagrada Família, Montjuïc — all fenced off, all waiting. Even the "Barcelona amb el Tour" lettering painted on the asphalt was part of that waiting: marked out days earlier, finding its meaning only today.

On the morning of July 4, the Tour de France started from this city for the first time in its 113-year history. Barcelona had hosted stages before — in 1957, 1965 and 2009 — but the opening had never been here. The 19.6-kilometre team time trial launched from the open plaza at the Fòrum. Holding a flat, steady speed along the coast, the teams cut straight through the middle of the city and passed in front of the Sagrada Família.

I was on Carrer d'Aragó, right at the point where they passed me — one of the spots where the teams hit their top speed. The sound as the bikes went by was less wind than a hum; it was like a swarm of bees passing. They arrived in seconds and were gone in seconds. I'll never forget that sound.

But the speed wasn't the most striking thing. The people of Barcelona were. The sidewalks, the balconies, the corners — everywhere was full. It was as if no one had stayed home. Everyone was out, shouting, cheering, waiting for the team that would tear past them a moment later. A city coming together like this on its own streets, claiming the day this loudly — it stayed with me even more than the stage itself.

The race had its own rule, too. In a classic team time trial the fifth rider's time counts; here, each rider's own time was recorded. Team spirit and individual effort, measured at once.

An opening Barcelona had prepared for with pride and care for weeks — it was something. Before a Tour de France in which dozens of these bees would face an extraordinary test of effort and endurance, the Catalans and everyone who lives in this city welcomed the riders with real joy. With its endless events and festivals, Barcelona gave us wonderful moments this weekend too.