Granted, it's a slightly incongruous setting to find riders in the off-season. They should be sunning themselves on a tropical beach, alarming fellow holidaymakers with eye-searing yin-yang tan lines cultivated from hours in the saddle.
But no-one seems to mind. It's kitting-out day for the newly merged Team NetApp-Endura and the first glimpse of their racing attire for the next 12 months awaits.
In a small room downstairs, Endura product developers, Stephanie Sim and Michelle Middleton, are overseeing the fittings. First up are the Spanish duo, the veteran Iker Camano and rising star David de la Cruz, newly signed from Caja Rural. As De La Cruz shyly hangs back, Camano begins flicking through the rails nodding his approval. "It's different," he says. "But I like it, it feels good – better."
After the pair are measured – they reel off race weight and cycling shoe size like rank and number – Camano heads into the changing cubicle to undress.
De La Cruz goes next, emerging from behind the curtain with a theatrical "Ta-dah". The pair pose in their new kit. "It is nice?" asks De La Cruz.
As the two teams merged, the potential for a Frankenstein monster-like amalgamated kit was high. Fortunately, though, Endura's designers have cannily averted a claim on the peloton's worst-dressed prize. The finished product still bears the royal blue and white of the German-based Team NetApp, but with the trademark black-and-lime green of the Scottish outfit Endura Racing woven into the design.
De La Cruz zips himself snuggly into an extra small jersey. There's a bit of Trinny and Susanna gesturing from Sim and Middleton as they debate the fit. I can see every rib and vertebrae. He sucks in a non-existent stomach as Camano helps cast a critical eye. "I have 3kg to lose," says De La Cruz finally. "So it's good."
With upwards of 20 items to be fitted – from shorts and jerseys to gilets, aero mitts and head bands – there's more outfit changes than a Lady Gaga concert. Donning a skinsuit, Camano adopts a crouched time-trialling position in front of the mirror. De La Cruz, meanwhile, is trying on a skull cap. "For swimming?" he asks, with a baffled expression.
As they amble off, the next duo arrive: the Slovene Blaz Jarc and Germany's Markus Eichler. At first glance, Jarc looks more like a basketball player than pro cyclist: 6ft 5in in his stocking soles.
"You need to make the curtain higher," jokes Eichler as his team-mate's head and shoulders tower above the changing cubicle. Jarc shrugs. "It's nothing that anyone hasn't seen before," he notes.
Eichler goes next. "Err, what size is your jersey?" he calls to Jarc. "Medium," comes the reply.
"Medium?" yelps an incredulous Eichler. There are some muffled curses. "You need to lose weight, man," teases Jarc. Eichler sheepishly reappears, a tiny rip visible in his jersey. "Um, that wasn't me . . ." he insists, with a grin.
Jan Barta, the Czech national time-trial champion, and his compatriot, Leopold Koenig, arrive. Several lost-in-translation moments, confused smiles and windmilling hand gestures ensue as they explain their requirements.
Endura's director Jim McFarlane pops his head in as Sim calls out Barta's sizes. "XL?" says McFarlane. "I've never heard that before. Ah, gloves? That's okay then," he winks.
The British rider Jonny McEvoy appears with a new signing, the up-and-coming German sprinter Ralf Matzka. McEvoy is preoccupied with getting the perfect fit, right down to the pads inside his shorts.
He hops on and off the bike which sits on rollers in the corridor outside. "It's no fun to ride for five hours in something that doesn't fit properly," he said. "These feel brilliant on. I'm happy."
Matzka is similarly impressed. "I will take this pad in every short," he says, like a millionaire on a shopping spree. McEvoy is fiddling with a head band. "I look like Rambo," he says ruefully.
Russell Downing, the sprinter newly arrived for the fitting, has his own woes. "Can we make sure the width of the bands on the arms are the right size?" he asks. "I'm not being funny, but this year I've had people ask if I was a former Dutch or French road race champion rather than British." He pulls his socks up to the knees footballer-style. "Don't take a picture of my hairy legs," he warns.
What's the secret to a good kit? "As long as it doesn't fit really badly in certain areas" – "the groin" he stage whispers – "then it's generally fine. My biggest problem, with short legs, is always the length."
Having ridden for 10 teams in his career, from the defunct Linda McCartney Racing to Team Sky – Downing has worn his fair share. "It's slick," he says, holding the kit up for his girlfriend to take a photo. "I reckon we will stand out next year for sure."
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