I can't begin to imagine how difficult yesterday must have been for some members of the peloton. Watching on the far side of the world I found the mourning procession to be surprisingly poignant and, somehow, a rite of transition. Something about the familiar made unfamiliar, the muted respect and appreciation from the tifosi, kilometre after kilometre of quiet, ordered rolling through nature and simply the passing of time combined to leave me feeling the peloton had, by its end, moved into a different world, one which had begun the long process of bidding goodbye to Wouter Weylandt.
I found comfort in it and I hope that the peloton managed to do so too, even if alongside the wrenching pain some of them were obviously feeling.
To those who feel his loss most I wish:
Deep peace of the running waves to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you.
(Celtic poem)