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Am I the only one doing this?
After I had pushed myself to my limits yesterday only to get saved by the bakery woman and her friend. Today, I decided was going to be a good day. Leaving town with a sandwich and some cookies, I was looking forward to my coffee after a gentle 15km through the sleepy mornings. Green and…
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Violent storms and kind strangers.
The sixth day of bikepacking in France by myself. The chirping of the first birds on the morning wakes me up. Through the windows of the barn that was my shelter for the night I see the sky, still dark, a few clouds. As more and more birds enter the morning symphony, I pack up…
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Leaving town by bike.
The first day of another cycling adventure. Who would have thought? As I am pedalling through a fresh overcast Thursday morning in May, my thoughts are passing by, like all these buildings that used to weigh heavy on my sense of freedom. Now I am passing them, on my way out of town. Left, right,…
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1 week and 1 day.
1 week and 1 day, sometimes thats all it takes for a crazy idea to become tangible reality. As I cycle around my favourite little hill side lake, it comes up again. That feeling, free and wide the world in front of me, cycling feels more like flying. “Why can’t I keep pedalling like that…
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Me and my bike, again.
New bike, different me, the same country as many times before. I managed around two weeks on my old rusty city bike. The bike I used since always in this town, mainly to ride to school with or drunk through town at 3 in the morning. I always loved my bike, but never managed to…
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10’000 hours.
It takes 10’000 hours of practice to master a skill. Recap after a year of cycling and sewing from France to Istanbul and back.
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Cake for breakfast in Albania.
“First time in Albania?” the border guard asks me, while he looks at my passport. “Yes.” I answer. After he figured out my name and tipped a few things in his computer he hands me back my document and asks: “Last time?” “No!” I say, smile and walk away.
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Questioning my Goldfish brain. (thoughts after cycling 5’052 kilometres)
Did I arrive? Where did I intend to go then? After cycling 5’052 kilometres to the south of Turkey I find myself in a sudden moment of calmness. I can’t help but wonder if I arrived at my destination. But I have never had one. If there is no destination how do you know, when…
kesityu. 