Every year in Oman, cycling is becoming more and more at home. The Arab country is gradually discovering this magical sport thanks to the valuable work of Aso, which decided to bet on a stage race that now attracts high-level athletes. It's a reciprocal exchange in which Oman opens up to the world for six days to welcome a kind of dream. We immediately understood that there is a strong desire to grow, from the great honors of the first day, with the goal of reaching the World Tour and a barely hinted possibility of opening up to women's cycling. It is from this statement that our journey within the journey began, to understand how women experience this event.

We must admit, it wasn't easy to understand the rules of a country so far from ours, but which actually has much in common with the European continent it often takes as a model. On the first day dedicated to the press, almost by chance, we found ourselves talking about cycling with a girl working for television: it immediately became clear how complicated everything was, we needed to ask the right questions, and above all, not cross that limit that we Westerners are now used to not having. In Oman, women do not practice cycling; there is no specific prohibition or rule, to be clear: they simply do not know it. The most popular sport by far is football, followed by cricket, swimming, and athletics, which the government is investing heavily in, especially in universities. Of the four Omani athletes at the Olympics, one was a woman, a sprinter who had already participated in Rio 2016: the project is to increase their number, but there are no female cyclists. In truth, in 2019, a small female group had shown interest in the project, wanting to try to open a micro team, but then the choice deemed better was to transfer to the United Arab Emirates where there are other opportunities. The great popularity of the UAE Tour and the team that today lines up Pogacar and Longo Borghini is an important push that they look at with dreamy eyes.

Oman offers many interesting routes for those who want to practice cycling, but finding someone who practices it is highly difficult. As the team's director explained to us, the means are lacking and above all, this sport is not part of the culture; we just had to look around to understand it. Excluding tourists who compete in a separate championship, we saw some workers with a bib on their bikes, others using them for short trips like going to the mosque or some children for simple fun, but no women. The Tour of Oman took us through different realities, allowing us to understand how customs and mentality change. On the first day, for the Muscat Classic, the start was in Al Mouj, a futuristic neighborhood packed with foreigners that gave the impression of not really being in the Arabian Peninsula. Some European women were taking photos with the cyclists, local women were approaching with interest to understand who was there, others were bringing their children to the presentation area inviting them to applaud the great champions. At the arrival of the fourth stage, the situation was very similar; hotel workers nearby had come en masse driven by curiosity, local women were trying to blend in with tourists, and some local TV journalists were making their way to interview the day's winner and all other protagonists. Despite being a Muslim culture country, Oman is quite open to the female component; women study, drive cars, are part of the government, are independent.

It is by crossing the villages that the true Oman is discovered, the radical, authentic one. As the race passed, people poured into the streets, more out of curiosity than to cheer for someone: near the inhabited centers, there were many people, men, boys, children, no women. Initially, it wasn't easy to spot them; we had to look carefully in courtyards, try to peek through windows, but they were there, curious, scared, often with a phone in hand, trying to capture some memory before running away. Far from the inhabited centers, it happened to see them on the street, always in groups, always on the sidelines, wrapped in their colorful clothes moved by the wind. Some preferred to stay in the car while husbands and sons enjoyed the race more closely, others claimed the shade of the few trees present and hid in the darkness. Little girls tried to mix with the crowd and followed the others in the festive atmosphere, incredulous, fascinated. One day, when we approached a group of fans, the father proudly explained that he had brought the entire family to see the race, even his daughters, because it was a rare event in Oman and it was right to make them participate like the others. We only noticed when we left that his wife was not there.

As we passed, women often hid, but when they met our gaze, they would stop, smile at us, as if somehow there was a connection between us. What struck us was their way of looking at everything that was happening, dreamy, not used to seeing bicycles. It wasn't easy to approach them, even though being a woman facilitated things; we had to put everything aside, the phone well hidden in our pocket, the camera on our shoulder. Paradoxically, the press badge helped the operation; in some way, they felt safe, not judged, and literally opened their doors. We visited a couple of houses, always welcomed with triumph and honor; even in the most remote places, they spoke English, and as soon as they discovered we were Italian, it was like opening a new world. Few knew what cycling really was, let alone that what was passing was a prestigious race; for them, it was simply strange. To their eyes, we all seemed like Martians from the future; no one judged the other, but it was clear there was interest in us. They pointed to the passing bikes; when they discovered there was even an Omani team, they understood that everything happening was truly important. We would have liked to tell much more, but there was never time; the race continued, and we had to follow it.

Throughout our journey, we caught the glances of many women that made us spontaneously, but soon obsessively, ask a question. Would you like to ride a bike? We asked from cities to villages, without malice, absolutely without the possibility of seeing them as athletes, just to understand if there was room for cycling in their lives. "Why should we?" they naturally responded, leaving us truly speechless. It was something we did not expect and soon became a continuous refrain, repeated over and over. In these cases, there is no space for right or wrong, nor for expressing judgments; we can only reflect. We cycling enthusiasts truly have a special treasure in our hands. Actually, however, we saw something: on the first day at the start of the Muscat Classic, there was a little girl with a pink bike with training wheels, a dreamy look towards the athletes. Next to her, her father in traditional clothes was proud, congratulating the beautiful organization and pointing to her, saying it was a special day. Perhaps it's nothing, just an anomaly, or who knows, from here could be born the first of many dreams.