TDU: Lee Turner’s Ultimate Summer Escape

If you’re a cyclist and you haven’t been to the Tour Down Under, you’re missing the best week of your life on two wheels. Full stop. Lock it in. Book the leave. Tell the family. January 2026 — we’re heading to Adelaide!

This isn’t just a bike race. It’s a rolling street party with long lunches and FTP. It’s Australia’s biggest festival of lycra and leg tans. It’s where pro racing meets poolside lounging, and somehow your Garmin still tells you you’ve done 700km by the end of the week. If that doesn’t sound like heaven, I can’t help you.

And for me – they are always special. It’ll be my fifteenth time heading over for TDU, and somehow every year gets better. The stories. The climbs. The chaos. The sunburn. I’ve seen it all (not much rain though) – and yet I know 2026 will still bring something new.

You wake up early, legs still humming from yesterday’s ride. The group chat’s going off – “Coffee at Exchange? Who’s doing Norton Summit?” You pull on fresh kit, slap on some sunscreen, and roll out under that perfect blue South Australian sky. Within five minutes, you’ve spotted Luke Plapp ordering a piccolo and Sarah Gigante signing someone’s cap. The vibe? Electric.

The roads are as smooth as butter, bar the manhole covers. Adelaide’s tarmac is kissed by angels – or maybe just well-funded local councils. You float through the Hills, past gum trees, past kangaroos, past koalas, past vineyards that make you want to stop for a glass of something red and fermented. And you will. Because this is the TDU. There’s no guilt in riding hard and relaxing harder.

The real fun is in the sheer number of big bunch rides. Every morning you can roll out with other riders from different states, all in fresh kit, all buzzing to be part of the week. There’s a bunch ride for every pace, every vibe, every coffee stop. You’ll meet riders from all over Australia, and suddenly your little Saturday ride crew feels like it has expanded to include the whole country.

And then there are the breakfasts. Long, lazy mornings sitting at cafes with friends, plates piled with eggs, smashed avo, pancakes, and endless sparkling water refills. The rides are incredible, but the laughs over breakfast might be even better. Half the stories of TDU are born around café tables, not on the climbs.

Norton Summit is the morning warm-up. Easy gradient, amazing views, and someone always drops the hammer halfway up. Corkscrew Road? That’s when things get serious. You’ll curse your cassette but thank your legs. And then there’s Willunga. The big dog of the week. Crowds ten-deep, people screaming your name, even if they don’t know you. You feel like Pogacar cresting the top, even if your mates dropped you five minutes ago. Doesn’t matter. At TDU, everyone’s a rockstar.

But here’s the thing a lot of people overlook: you’ve got to get there early for the women’s race. Don’t just rock up for the men. The women’s peloton is electric, and every year it’s getting bigger, faster, and more exciting. Seeing them line up, seeing the grit in their faces, and watching the tactics unfold –  it’s some of the best racing you’ll witness all week. And in 2026, the women are taking on the famous Corkscrew climb – a stage that’ll explode the race if Sarah can get herself back and dominate once again. The atmosphere roadside is going to be insane. Picture hundreds of fans lining the switchbacks, cowbells rattling, voices echoing through the valley, and the best women in the world ripping up gradients that make your quads ache just watching. Trust me, you don’t want to miss that. There’s just so much colour and excitement and in 2026 the whole women’s WorldTour peloton will be there for the first time.

After the ride, it’s time to refuel. Coffee, or in my case, San Pel? Obviously. Pastries? Essential. Then it’s on to long lunches in the Hills or back into the Tour Village in the heart of the City. You’ll roll in with helmet hair and cleats on, and you’ll be served like you’re royalty. Because it’s TDU. And every cyclist is family this week.

The racing itself? Oh yeah, it’s red hot. Both the men’s and women’s races are now full WorldTour openers. You don’t need a VIP pass – just roll up to the barriers. The pros are right there, warming up on trainers, giving you a nod, maybe even a selfie. You’ll see the best in the world sprinting through little towns like Lobethal and Stirling, and you’ll wonder why this isn’t the way all sports work – fast, free, and so close you can feel the wind as they pass.

Nights are for recovery, ice cream, and talking absolute garbage with your mates about who’s the best descender, who’s sandbagging, and who’s cooked. You’ll hit up 48 Flavours or some hidden joint that does beautiful ice cream that melts your face off. You’ll promise to go easy on the chocolate, and you’ll fail, and you’ll wake up the next day and ride anyway.

At some point, you’ll end up back in the Tour Village, buying yet another cap, trying on sunglasses you don’t need, getting your hands on free gels that you tell yourself you’ll actually use. You’ll see bikes that cost more than your car and jerseys that make you question your entire wardrobe. And you’ll love every second of it.

And this year, we’re bringing something extra to the mix. The Domestiques podcast – that’s me, Mike Tomalaris, and Matilda Raynolds – will be doing daily shows on the ground in Adelaide, in conjunction with Blacksheep Cycling. Expect unfiltered chat, race insights, interviews, and probably a bit too much banter from yours truly. We’ll be recapping the day, previewing the stages, and trying to keep Tomo out of the wine bar.

And just when you think you’ve peaked – when your legs are cooked, your liver’s had enough, and your suitcase is full of merch – you’ll ride up Mount Lofty at sunrise with your mates. The city below. The sky turning pink. And you’ll remember why you came.

Adelaide is the perfect city for the Tour Down Under. Small enough that you can ride everywhere, big enough that it feels like a world stage. The roads are out the back door, the vineyards are twenty minutes away, and the beach is right there when you need to cool off. The best bit is no matter which direction you go it’s always a slight downhill back into town. For one week a year it becomes the cycling capital of the world, and every rider, from pro to punter, feels like they belong.

TDU isn’t just a race. It’s a reminder of why we ride. The mateship. The suffering. The food. The stories.

So I’ll see you in Adelaide. Sunglasses on. Speaker in the back pocket. Legs out. Yellow kit crisp. Because at the TDU, for one glorious week, we’re all Hollywood.