From Berlin to the Costa Blanca: Julian Roberts’ Journey Through Cycling Culture
Sometimes the best conversations start with a simple coffee. We sat down with Julian Roberts — rider, creator, storyteller, and the mind behind Pedaling Through Life and Label Collective — to talk about bikes, place, community, and what it really means to build a life around two wheels. Julian has lived and ridden across Europe, shaped his work through the landscapes he calls home, and crafted a perspective on cycling that blends creativity, honesty and a deep appreciation for the people who share the road.
Here’s what happened when we asked him to slow down for a moment and tell us his story.
Short Opener: Easily asked - but perhaps hard to answer - who is Julian/PedalingThroughLife?
Honestly? I'm just a normal guy who loves to ride his bike and goes after the things he wants to pursue, uncomplicated is the best way to put it. It's the perspective that has fueled everything i have done in life, like leaving my life in Berlin after spending a week in Girona with my dad for his birthday is a good example, I arrived, fell in love with the place and the only time I left again as to go back to Berlin to pack my apartment up. If life presents something to me, I just take it and see where it leads. The same goes into Pedaling Through Life.
You’ve lived in and ridden through a number of European cities — from Berlin to Amsterdam to Mallorca and now Alicante. How has each of these places influenced your perspective on cycling and your own journey?
My bio always includes the tagline 'riding great stories since 1989,' and I feel like that perfectly encapsulates my experience. Life is one big narrative, after all, and each of these cities has been a distinct chapter.
Berlin taught me about grit and urban energy. It’s actually where all of this started; a friend of mine, Mitch, who I met there, was the one who helped me strap a camera to my back.
Amsterdam wasn't a full-time home for me—my partner lived between there and Spain—but it shifted my perspective on utility, showing me that the bike is a tool for life, not just sport. I found so much joy there just riding around on my Omafiets (Dutch bike), taking the ferry, exploring cafes, doing the weekly shop with racks, and navigating the chaos that just works.
Mallorca introduced me to how living on an island can bring peace, while the Alicante region feels like the place where it all comes together. We moved here to the mountains above Calpe and bought our house because it felt like 'the great in-between.' The climate means you can ride in shorts nearly all year round if you're brave enough! It has also helped bring my work to a new level. Working as a photographer and videographer while owning a cycling clothing brand, I have the ability to shoot all year with a huge variety of landscapes—from the inland mountains and passes right to the coast for that pure Costa Blanca feel. The main thing living here has taught me is balance and less is more.
On your Substack Pedaling Through Life you write about themes that matter to you. What are the core ideas you’re trying to explore, and why do they resonate so strongly with you now?
I think I honestly just write whatever comes into my mind, often a lot of the topics I discuss reflect on real life experience or conversations I have had with friends that spark something in my brain. The core of the whole thing is authenticity, a place where you can be yourself and share through a different medium. I love photography but at times it can become tiring to match words to them, sometimes I just want to write everything that comes into my head and there is not always a photo for that.
When did you first realise cycling wasn’t just a sport or a commute for you, but part of your identity? What was that turning moment?
Oh this dates back to when I was a child, my grandad was a cyclist, my dad a cross racer and I wouldn't say it was forced on me but influenced. So influenced that I joined the local cycling club which was also a development squad after my grandad bought me a yellow and blue Peugeot bike, I raced until my late teens, in multiple disciplines from Road to MTB for my country and for myself ultimately. It's always been in my life and part of my identity.
Your brand Label Collective connects cycling clothing with community and place. What’s the story behind launching that label, and how do you see it as an extension of your personal mission?
When the industry recently turned itself a little upside down, I was running my own small marketing agency specifically in the cycling space. Like all things, we are the first to go because contractors cost the most. I always wanted to start my own brand, and seeing as I didn't represent any clothing brands anymore, knew all the factories and how to do it. I spoke to my partner and floated the idea. she said, 'If you don't give it a go, you never know' which ties into my philosophy of always going after things I want to pursue. It may fail, and that is okay. Failure will just help us learn to pick ourselves back up.
I don't see the brand as just an extension of my personal mission, but more as the one big picture. I started Label Collective on the basis that I wanted to create a sustainable kit at a reasonable price, with the core value that cycling is for all and cycling is about balance. When I see messages from people in our kit or see them out riding in it with a smile, it brings me joy and reminds me exactly why I started.
In what way does “place” (city, terrain, environment) shape how you ride, how you train, how you think about gear and clothing?
I live in the mountains right under Coll de Rates, so the only way is usually up. A typical ride for me will always have 1,500m of elevation unless I go for a 'flat' route which will still be 500m! It really helps with training because there’s always a climb to do a good set of intervals on. I can ride for 5h and see 4 or 5 cars. You know you’re in the right place when you see pros most days; Tadej Pogačar and the gang have most of the local KOMs.
It also means that I need versatile gear. I ride the Hunt Aerodynamicist 44/46 wheelset; it’s the perfect balance of aero and lightweight climbing performance that thrives in this terrain. I used to have a set of 55s in the mountains, but the wind would just chop me from side to side which was not ideal.
Clothing wise, contrary to popular belief, I still have to wear a full winter kit. Spain is hot if you’re a visitor, but when you live here, 11–14 degrees feels like 5–8 degrees by comparison. There’s a saying here: 'It’s a cold country with a hot sun.' I find myself playing the layering game during the autumn and winter as if I have a long 5-6 hours zone 2. Well, it's 11 when I leave and 20 mid ride as an example. As I write this from a cafe, it’s 11 degrees with severe wind, and I had to wear a jumper and down jacket just for the walk from the car.
What drives you most: performance, exploration, creativity, community — or something else altogether? And how do you balance those in your work and sport?
This could have been one of the shortest answers, but I do love to waffle! I think my drive is actually a whole, because all the elements performance, exploration, creativity, and community stem from one core concept: exploring what could be.
Take training as an example: I wanted to get stronger, so I asked myself, 'What if we can hit 4w/kg' Once I got there, I went, 'What if I can hit 5\w/kg? Now that I'm there, I'm already onto the next goal—always pushing and exploring my limits.
This applies to everything: 'What’s down that road?' 'What if we try this new perspective for a shoot?' Even in community interactions, I ask, 'What if I asked a question instead of giving unsolicited cycling advice?' (That last one is a necessary poke at the community, because we all know how riders feel about that!).
To answer the question of balance: I don't see it as balancing work against sport. It isn't balanced it's one thing."
Describe a ride — past or recent — that changed something for you. It might have been physically hard, emotionally profound, or shifted your outlook in some way.
Strap yourself in because this is about to get deep and honest. There was one moment when I was on a ride that truly changed my life. At the time, I was commuting to and from work by bike; it kept me fit, and the distance was manageable.
I had recently moved back to the UK from Australia and, in all honesty, couldn't afford a car. I was in a bad place mentally and financially working two jobs and burning the candle at both ends. I was living at home in my mid-twenties in the spare room, and my mind was a mess.
One day, I was riding home, and I just stopped in a lay-by outside of Coventry and started crying. I could not stop. It was then I realized how depressed I actually was. I called my dad on the phone there and then and told him I needed help and to see a doctor and ultimately I did.
That moment on the bike really changed a lot of things. It helped me to be honest with myself and know I can't always just do things on my own, even though I am stubborn by nature. It shifted my mindset that the bike is a tool for help and guidance, but not a solution in itself. I've put that perspective into many things I've done over the years. I'm not looking for sympathy with this story, but I hope it will help someone who reads it down the line.
You’ve seen European cycling culture from multiple angles. What differences and similarities stand out between, say, the northern bike-scenes like Amsterdam and southern ones around Mallorca/Alicante?
I truly believe the scenes are fundamentally the same, because everywhere in Europe, cycling is rooted in that core social ritual, the coffee, the chat, the shared passion and a deep cultural respect for the bike. The difference really comes down to the personality that the environment forces upon the rider. In the North, like Amsterdam, cycling is driven by necessity before it becomes your passion, it’s a democratic, all-weather tool for urban mobility, until you see the shiny bikes. But in the South, like here in Alicante province, the perfect climate removes that daily necessity. The bike instantly becomes a tool for performance and lifestyle. Now that’s just my opinion and all of the things I´ve mentioned are everywhere around the world.
But if we get down to the core of it you have one shared passion, but two entirely different expressions: one prioritizes efficiency, the other, athletic pursuit. Nobody here in Spain goes “i´m going to commute by bike” the car rules still.
What role does gear, apparel and design play in your vision of cycling? With Label Collective you’re not just riding — you’re creating. How do you approach the design brief: what’s non-negotiable?
Our kit shapes how you feel on the bike. When something fits right you stop thinking about it and you can focus on the ride itself. That is the role apparel plays for me. It should support you without asking for attention. Good design gets you out the door more often and keeps you comfortable when the ride gets long or unpredictable. We sit on the edge of playfulness and minimalism.
With Label Collective we treat every product as something people will actually live in. The brief always starts with function. The material needs to breathe well, dry fast and move with you. The fit has to feel natural when you reach for the bars or climb out of the saddle. The pockets need to sit in the right place. These things are not up for debate.
From there we think about feel. Colour, texture and small details that make you want to pick up the piece again the next day. We look for a balance between performance and everyday rideability. Nothing loud. Nothing trying too hard. Just clothing that lets people ride more and feel good while doing it. Not to mention our Collective plays a massive role in our designs and what we update.
The non negotiables stay the same. Comfort. Honest performance. Recycled materials. And a design language that reflects why we ride in the first place.
When you reflect on the community side of riding — fellow cyclists, local scenes, events — what do you feel is missing in the current landscape? And what do you hope to build or change?
It's a tough one because maybe I'm not always seeing everything that is happening, but from what I see, there is a lot of passion in cycling. However, the community often feels split into groups. It's often "Fast riders over here" and "New riders over there." People who look a certain way feel welcome, others not so much. It's not changing still, and many scenes continue to reward performance and appearance more than the simple joy of riding.
What I miss most is a space where people show up as they are, where the kit you wear or the speed you ride does not set the tone. This brings me back to fond memories of my local club I was a part of when I was in the United Kingdom. The Gorilla Coffee Cafe: nobody cared about brands. We just showed up, rode our bikes, went back to the cafe, and sat late into the night chatting about everything. I check their Instagram, and it's not changed, that is beautiful.
The other thing still missing is creating a place where more women feel comfortable joining group rides, where beginners are not afraid to ask questions, and where cyclists can talk about the good and the bad without feeling judged. 9/10 I join a ride around here now and its 32kph average + and go from the start. It's sadly a persistent problem in our sport and hobby.
As for the change? I would just like to do my part to make people feel welcome; it's what I've always hoped to inspire, and I don't think that will change.
If you were to invite someone on a ride to show them the essence of “Julian Roberts’ world”, where would you take them and why? What would you want them to feel?
I feel like my rides are similar to Matt Stevens' Café rides on Sigma Sports. I would take them on my standard café loop: it winds through the orange groves and hits a wicked climb one that tests you, but won't hurt you, before ending up at the cycling café opposite the road to my house. As for the feeling I want to create? I just want the rides to be fun a place where we can be ourselves, let loose, and be silly. Riding is about joy and making us feel good, after all.
Finally: what advice would you give to a younger version of yourself starting out in Europe, riding bikes, dreaming of building something? What do you wish you knew then?
I know a lot of people would look back and say, 'I wish I knew this' and 'I wish I knew that,' but honestly, I wouldn't be the person I am today if I changed any of it. I wouldn't touch a thing. I think the only piece of advice I would ever offer is to simply 'trust the process.'
