Cor Vos
It feels a bit like Christmas Eve. The Christmas Eve of childhood when the magic feels real, when the presents under the tree seemed unbearably enticing, but when you look back, the things that stuck in the memory are the less material. More important were the snowy footprints you didn't know were plain flour, placing carefully handwritten letters on the hearth, being constantly on the lookout for signs of magic, and laying out a carrot and a special treat of dad's favourite tipple for Father Christmas before going to bed feverishly excited.
This is what Paul Seixas is doing to the cycling world.