Tour de France: tous contre Pogacar!

Here it is again, this unparalleled moment, on a morning departure from the Tour de France, when our pulsations drum to tear the membrane of a stethoscope, that dreams are always intact, that the horizon of the possible still stretches to the infinite, like that strip of light, in the distance, which never leaves the Danish night. A fleeting pleasure, to be consumed without delay, before, during the couch sessions of the holidaymakers or images stolen during working hours, the hopes and pampering of everyone are dispelled under the cruel scalpels of the race .


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