The Chef
Actually, genuinely, annoyingly good. Will spend four hours on a ragΓΉ and then describe it to you for another four. Do not bring him supermarket pesto. Do not mention that you "just microwave stuff". He will remember.
π FINAL COUNTDOWN TO FREEDOM'S END π
19 . 06 . 2027 β one man's last dance with dignity
until Michiel trades the bachelor pad for a joint bank account.
Before that: Spain (probably), and a send-off he will not be expensing.
Our boy Michiel is willingly, on purpose, walking down an aisle on June 19th, 2027. Before he's legally required to ask permission to buy a new bike, we're throwing him one glorious last hurrah β and we're doing it in Spain β probably, most likely, don't book anything yet β because if a man is going to lose his freedom he may as well lose it somewhere with 30Β°C and a very generous cocktail menu.
Seven exhibits. All of them admissible. None of them flattering.
Actually, genuinely, annoyingly good. Will spend four hours on a ragΓΉ and then describe it to you for another four. Do not bring him supermarket pesto. Do not mention that you "just microwave stuff". He will remember.
Owns a grinder that cost more than your bike. Has feelings about water temperature. Has opinions about your capsules. Offer this man a Senseo and watch a grown adult physically age in front of you.
Before the lycra era there was canoe slalom, and he was seriously good at it. Gates, whitewater, the lot. Then he discovered a sport where you can sit down and still complain about the weather.
Swapped rapids for tarmac. Shaves his legs and insists it's about aerodynamics. Can tell you his average speed from a ride in 2019. Cannot tell you where his keys are.
He and his fiancΓ©e went and founded The Cycling Duo β actual professional bike fitting, run by actual professionals. Very impressive. Very grown up. Slightly undermined by his firm belief that the company can now expense everything: the espresso machine (client hospitality), the new wheels (R&D), dinner (team building), and β we assume β this entire trip to Spain (offsite).
Backup plan, in his own words: the sugar mommy. She has seen this website. Good luck.
A classroom of eight- and nine-year-olds. In Brussels. Voluntarily. Thirty of them, all day, every day β and he comes back out still willing to talk to people. Frankly the marriage will be the easy part.
Currently operating under the impression that this is all very sweet and nobody is planning anything. Bless him.
Sun. Sangria. A man being slowly walked toward the end of his bachelorhood by people who love him and have absolutely no intention of being gentle about it.
Exact dates, town and damage estimate landing here soon. Michiel has indicated the trip may be claimable as a business expense. It is not. (We checked. Twice.)
Three tribes, one shared objective.
Known him since he was soaking wet and shouting at a river. A decade on, still the friends with the stories nobody else has heard.
Have suffered up more climbs behind this man than they'd like to admit. Will absolutely drop him on the first hill if it's funny enough.
His Brussels colleagues β the people who keep him sane between bells. Professionals by day. Not, we suspect, in Spain.
Drop photos into /assets and they'll show up here. Ask Matthias.
Michiel's about to get buried in responsibilities. Steer him away for as long as you can β squeeze past a car for a near-miss streak, and grab πΈ for a big bonus. Use β β (or A/D) to swerve, Space to start. Swipe or tap either side on mobile.
π Whoever tops the leaderboard wins a surprise β to be presented, with great ceremony, during the evening's cultural exhibition in Spain. Put your real name in. We will be checking.
Exact dates, the Spanish town, flights, and how much this is going to hurt financially β all coming. For now: clear your calendar, start hydrating, and practise saying "one more, then we go home" without laughing.
Questions, ideas, or incriminating photographs β Matthias.