Raphacaph - the perfect place to watch Cadel on the Strada Bianchi

My beloved fancied a jaunt east to Broadway Market this weekend so the trade off for an hour in urban traffic and mingling with Hackney fixie clones was that we would visit one of the 2 new cycling cafes that have opened up - Look Mum No Hands and the Rapha Clubhouse.

So, after she'd had her wish granted (and I'd had had an amazing black pudding scotch egg) we drove back west and, after driving past L.M.N.H. the decision was made to go to Rapha and save the former for another day ('too many men' was the comment made in my ear as we drove down Old Street - read this as 'geek alert').

Now I make no bones about the fact that I have a love hate relationship with Rapha (as do many if my experience of the snippy comments made to my Rapha wearing friend at last year's Dragon Ride are anything to go by). It does have the image of being elitist city boy clobber but at the same time it is undoubtedly the most well thought out and best quality both in terms of the kit and the way it is presented to the customer.

So, what would the cafe be like? Well, quite simply it is the most well thought out and best quality place you can visit to sip a coffee and watch the Giro. The attention to detail from the top tube inspired picture rail to the pink-papered daily stage reports in the toilet (beats Swisher shooting anytime) is brilliant as is the plethora of magazines and books that are strewn across the communal table for all to thumb as the sip a 'first one is free' flat white.

As with all Rapha things places and events there is always one or two employees who are a little too cool for school but on the whole the place is genuinely welcoming with a 'stay-as-long-as-you-like' atmosphere that means it won't be the last time I visit (not least to have a better look at the Il Campionissimo exhibition downstairs).

However, there is no way that I can finish this post without 2 chapeaus. The first to Cadel for winning what has to be one of the best grand tour stages ever (mud, rain, cobbles - Flanders in Tuscany). And the second to my beloved who selflessly waited in the car for 30 minutes after Futurestars decision to kick-off whilst I watched the end of what I knew would be a historic days racing. Yes, I felt guilty but not THAT guilty. The reason being that in a strange quirk of fate the stage finished in Montalcino - the very same Montalcino that, on a holiday to Tuscany a few years ago, I had earmarked as being the 'monument' place to visit for it's wine credentials only for said beloved to spend the whole visit moaning she felt sick and thoroughly ruining the day - kismet, my darling, kismet.