I think I've joined a south London cycling cult

Who needs the Tour de France when you've got Herne Hill velodrome, asks Marie Le Conte

- Marie Le Conte

It already feels like an odd dream. It was a sunny Saturday and the Tour de France had just begun, so I decided to try the next best thing and go to watch some track cycling with a French friend in Herne Hill.

I live in south London and Herne Hill is in south London. Ideal, I thought. I was wrong. I left the house and, seven buses and two consecutive water buffaloes later, found myself on a quiet, unassuming suburban street. Was this really it? Like an explorer in the desert, I kept going, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.

I eventually took a right, walked down a little path, and found the oasis to be real. Within minutes, I was sitting in the sun, sipping on cold white wine, surrounded by trees, unable to hear any traffic, and watching some cyclists warm up. Things were off to a terrific start.