A firsthand experience of the 21st stage of the 2025 Tour de France – from a cobbled corner in Montmartre, where world-class cyclists fought for one final victory on the Tour’s last climb.

An article written, shot, and produced by Nick Murphy.

My best friend Clayton got me into cycling around 4-5 years ago, and it has become a significant part of my life since. It fuels and supports my entertainment, health, commutes, and many of my friendships. 

In 2023, Netflix released a mini series documentary called “Tour De France: Unchained.” The series taught you everything about the Tour, but it was mostly special for being able to witness the team dynamics, personalities, and raw emotions that roll through all of France. The show drew not only me but thousands of people closer to the French classic. It quickly became more than a goal of mine to attend the Tour de France – a dream. 

This dream came true this weekend, and despite the predetermined excitement, it still managed to exceed my expectations exponentially. I arrived in Paris the night before the race. My first time in the city, or the country for that matter, but the typical Paris attractions weren’t even on my mind. I walked directly to the Champs-Élysées to see if they had begun setting the stage for the final race, and sure enough, they had. The moment was here, and I felt it through my bones. 

The 21st stage is the final stage of the Tour de France. It’s a 132-kilometer, ‘flat’ stage that goes from Mantes-la-ville to Paris. The iconic part of the stage is the finish on Champs-Élysées, and this year would serve as the 50th anniversary since the first iconic finish in 1975. Technically, it wasn’t the 50th time the race had finished there, but the 49th due to a necessary redirection for the 2024 Paris Olympics. 

The 2024 Olympics wouldn’t ruin this annual tradition, though, it added to it – The Montmartre Circuit. After a very successful trial of the Montmartre Circuit in the Olympics, the Tour de France board decided to add it to the existing Champs-Élysées route. This was an extremely exciting adjustment to fans and riders as the original stage lacked competitiveness and merely acted as a victory lap. The addition of the Montmartre Circuit would highlight more city features and make the treasured day significantly more competitive by allowing more space for breakaways. The racers rounded the hills three times, so I figured that is definitely where I ought to be. 

Up and out of the hostel early in the morning with my mind set on seeing the Montmartre Hill circuit. I approached the hills, and while my excitement radiated, so did others; there was a holiday in the city, and it was the finale of the Tour de France. Standing at the base of the climb on Rue Lepic, I threw my foot over a rental bike and began pedaling. Smiling ear to ear and cruising uphill, I visualized the track that the best cyclist in the world would be cruising just hours later. Passing the Polk adot ‘E. Leclerc’ flags resembling “King of the Mountains”, and the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur on my left, the moment suddenly felt surreal. 

On my first lap around, and halfway up the climb, two guys chanted “Allez! Allez! Allez!” as I seemingly whizzed past. My second lap around, and there they were again, clapping and cheering “Allez!Allez!Allez!”. I ended up parking the bike and residing by them for the remainder of the day. We would stand by, holding our spot from 11 AM – on. The two fellas were from Wales and had cycled from home to Paris for the Tour de France. We became friends immediately, sharing an immense passion for the sport, and excitement as our first sight of the race was upon us. 

The racers weren’t expected till around 18:30, so a seven to eight-hour wait was ahead of us. This wasn’t like waiting for a ride at an amusement park, though; it was all part of the Tour de France. Time passed, crowds grew, and the course fences filled.  It was a huge party celebrating the history of the event, the people around you, and the hard work each of the Tour cyclists had put in throughout the past month. The crowd sang, danced, cheered, played games, and became friends with the person next to them. From toddler to senior, many ascended the hill via bike while the growing crowd cheered “allez!” for all who passed. I’ve never felt a crowd of fans like this before, no signs of hatred amongst rivalry, just a shared spirit for the sport and culture. 

Just an hour away from the cyclist rolling around the corner and the streets couldn’t be more packed. If you had to use the restroom, you were out of luck (speaking from experience). An estimated five hundred thousand or more fans lined the streets of Paris, many locals, and many travelers. A relationship between those watching from the windows of their apartments and those on the street formed. Hundreds chanted “Bois! Bois! Bois!” or “Chug! Chug! Chug!” as those above leaned out of windows, drowning bottles of champagne one by one. A light mixture of rain and champagne toppled our heads as the celebration carried on. Then suddenly, a roar rose from the base of the hill, growing louder by the second. The race was here. 

Team cars littered with bikes and satellites flew by, followed by the lead red car, over the PA, it announced “À l’avant de la course, Julian Alaphilippe!” (“At the front of the race, Julian Alaphilippe!”). The crowd erupted as their French hometown hero, Julian Alaphilippe, led the pack. Seconds later, he and the rest of the peloton soared up the hill. Passing by quickly, you see and feel a side of cycling you’ll never experience through a screen. 

Their faces told the story through gritted teeth, dirt-smeared skin, and eyes locked straight ahead. Drool dripped from their chins as every ounce of energy shot through their pedals. You could hear the bikes humming as their legs churned like machines. Pain was fuel, and falling back was not an option. It was raw, human, and nothing but unfiltered determination.

Just as present as the pain was the force of the crowd; a heavy blanket of noise filled all surrounding air. Thousands chanted “allez!” and shared one roar of admiration, awe, and motivation for the competitors. The combination of immense physical effort and an army of public devotion was unlike anything I have ever experienced. The energies existed symbiotically, one fueling the other in return. The moment was more than just a sport. 

Of course, being a fan of many of the riders was very exciting as well. I saw all of the athletes whom I have followed over the past several years in the flesh, doing what they do best. Each time, the peloton grew thinner, and by the third time, a clear battle between Wout Van Aert and Tadej Pogacar. 

Pogacar was already set to win the overall Tour, while Van Aert determined to make a rather disappointing Tour less disappointing with a stage win. Pogacar attempted to break away through the hills but didn’t find success. Van Aert caught up and took a large lead, winning the 21st stage for the second time (2021 & 2025). Despite the loss in the 21st stage, Pogacar was dominant in the Tour and won his fourth Tour de France. This additional title cements Tadej Pogacar’s name as one of the greatest cyclists of all time. 

Being able to witness the Tour de France in the Montmartre hills, surrounded by thousands who share a deep love for this sport, was a dream come true. The Tour is more than a race, but a celebration of human willpower and community. The combination of the crowd and riders was an unforgettable experience, and something no screen can replicate. 

If you ever get the chance to see the Tour live, regardless of knowing anything about cycling, take it. Join the thunderous crowd of cheer, and witness pure grit and human limits. It’s an event like any other that will bond friendships from all nations and generations. This will not be my last Tour de France; it’s a dream I will continue to chase. 

Nick Murphy – M94.5 

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