From Europe’s Roads to Mauritius’ Shores: Kim Le Court Comes Home

When Curepipe-born cyclist Kim Le Court stepped off the plane and felt the island air settle around her, it wasn’t victory she thought about. Not Liège–Bastogne–Liège. Not the yellow jersey she wore in France like a small sun on her shoulders. It was something far simpler: she was home.

Home meant the smell of gato pima (Mauritius’ beloved spicy lentil fritters) drifting somewhere nearby. It meant the kind of warmth you don’t earn by winning races, but by growing up on a small island where people cheer for you even when you can’t hear them. It meant the promise of dhal puri (the island’s famous soft flatbread stuffed with spiced yellow peas), the tiny ones from Trou aux Cerfs, the ones she used to inhale ten at a time.

And this November, home also meant a few sun-filled days tucked between palms and shoreline at Sugar Beach with her husband, Ian. Time to breathe, to slow the world down, to slip back into her own rhythm.
“I might go home a few kilos heavier,” she joked. “But that’s fine.”

After a year like hers, it felt more than fine... it felt right. As one of Mauritius’ proudest sporting figures, she carried an extraordinary season home with her, but in this moment, she wasn’t a Monument winner or a yellow-jersey wearer. She was simply Kim, back where everything began.

A Year That Rewrote Expectations

There’s winning a race.
And then there’s winning Liège–Bastogne–Liège, one of cycling’s five great Monuments, becoming the first African, man or woman, ever to do it. Kim didn’t realise the magnitude straight away. She crossed the finish line focused, spent, satisfied in the quiet way athletes are when they’ve given everything. The “history made” headlines on social media only sank in later.

“I don’t really race to make history,” she said. “I race to be my best… to make people proud.”

But history happened anyway. And then it happened again when she slipped into the yellow jersey at the Tour de France Femmes. Not once. Four times. For a cyclist who grew up far from European racetracks, who built her confidence in small, hard-earned increments, it meant something enormous, to her, to her team, to her island.

She remembers the messages. The Mauritian flags waving high. Strangers shouting “marz ar li!” from the roadside in France, a Creole phrase that followed her from Mauritius to the Pyrenees which means keep going.

It wasn’t the victories that hit her hardest.
It was that echo.

Little Steps, Big Dreams

Kim says she was never the loud, self-assured one. She didn’t enter cycling imagining she would one day pull on the most iconic jersey in sport. It happened slowly, through a collection of small, stubborn choices... the kind that don’t make headlines but build a person. Like skipping nights out with friends so she could wake up early in the morning and ride.

“I’ve taken a lot of risks,” she said. “Some didn’t work out. Some changed my life.”

None of it came without sacrifice. Long stretches away from her family. Winters in Europe that bit right through her gloves. Suitcases always half-packed. And yet, the shy girl from Mauritius kept showing up. Every day. Every race. Every climb.

If her story has a message, it’s not about talent. It’s not even about grit. It’s about belief: her husband’s, her family’s, her team’s. And now, the belief she wants to pass on.

“My dream is to help young African cyclists believe in theirs,” she said. “Not just by being a role model, but actually help them.”

The Monument winner thinking about the next generation... that’s the kind of gold no jersey can give.

Easy Days at Sugar Beach

When she talks about her perfect rest day, Kim’s face relaxes. It’s the one routine in her life without stopwatch, power meter, or pressure.

At Sugar Beach, it looked something like this:

Sleep in... but not too late, breakfast is sacred.
Coffee in bed (made by her husband) or barefoot on the sand.
Then it's off to the buffet for a plate or two full of eggs, bacon, beans, pancakes.
Sun. Sea. Maybe a pedalo. Maybe stand-up paddle.
Lunch. A nap. A massage. An afternoon pancake. A piña colada.
Sunset. Music. Dinner.
And then… nothing. Delicious, rare nothing.

For someone who measures most of her year in watts and race radios, slow days like these feel almost rebellious.

Kim laughed when she admitted her one must-have travel item: “Earplugs. My husband snores so they’re life-saving.”

The Quiet Magic of Mauritius She Carries with Her

Ask Kim what she tries to share with the world, and she won’t mention beaches or postcard scenes.

“It’s our people,” she said. “We’re humble, grateful. We don’t take anything for granted.”

Maybe that’s why even at the top of her sport, she still marvels when someone washes her bike. It’s not a lack of experience, it’s a presence of gratitude. A very Mauritian kind.

When people ask about the island, she suggests embracing the full picture: the resort’s calm, and the colourful streets waiting just beyond. “Eat street food. Explore small villages. Talk to people.”
The magic isn’t on the brochure; it’s on the roadside, in a hot roti, in conversations with strangers who treat you like an old friend.

The Island Roads She Loves and Wise Words for the Dreamers Who Follow…

If she could ride anywhere in Mauritius just for fun, she’d choose the route she described with a smile: along the coast, up through Chamarel and Plaine Champagne, looping past Grand Bassin and its towering statues... scenic, quiet roads where the air cools suddenly and the island feels ancient. Or maybe Pointe d’Esny, ending with a good coffee. Because every good ride needs a coffee stop.

Ask her to sum her journey in one word, and she gives two: Unpredictable and fighter. And it couldn’t describe her journey better. The path from Curepipe to cycling’s biggest stages is anything but linear.

And to the young Mauritians watching her, waiting for their own door to open, she offers a soft, steady reminder: “Don’t compare yourself. Surround yourself with the right people. Stay humble. And remember where you come from.”

Words spoken like someone who knows exactly what she carries... a country’s warmth, a yellow jersey’s glow, and a spirit that just keeps going.