What do you actually feel inside your body when you reach your goal after a year and more than 30,000km on a bike?

That's a good question, and one that we even had the opportunity to practice. 

When we arrived at Cape Agulhas, Africa's southernmost point, in brilliant sunshine and wind in our hair, smiles were big and spirits were high. But although Cape Agulhas marked the achievement of cycling from Europe's northernmost point to Africa's southernmost, it was not the final destination of our trip. The real destination has a much better and more colloquial name, namely the Cape of Good Hope! Therefore, Agulhas was a dress rehearsal for us and our feelings about ending the adventure. 

The dress rehearsal

Cape Agulhas is a very raw and beautiful place. It is the point where the Indian Ocean meets the Atlantic Ocean. Rough cliffs form the coastline between the fine fynbos plants and the azure sea. A wooden walkway leads to the small monument where we could park our bikes and climb up to pose for a nice photo, taken by the nearest tourist with a big camera. 

And what did we feel then? What moved in the body and mind? What words stood in line to express the achievement? 

The answer is, honestly, that it was hard to feel anything. There was an emptiness in the space that should have been filled with flowery words. We sat on a bench and peeled a carrot while we looked out over the sea. 

From Agulhas, the last 500km lay west of us, to our final destination. We must use the last days on the bike to reflect, so that we are better prepared for an emotional outburst at the Cape of Good Hope!

Trust in the world. But not blind trust

We always talk to locals about our route. Partly to get good input on interesting places, but also to check if safety is ok. 

And here, just a few hundred kilometers before the finish line, we encounter a safety obstacle for the first time. Cape Flats. 

All the South Africans we have spoken to tell us that we are not allowed to cycle through this area, which is actually one large township, with about 1.5 million inhabitants, or a good third of Cape Town's total population. 

The entire Cape Flats is divided into different neighborhoods. The largest is Khayelitsha with almost 400,000 residents. 

The neighborhoods are divided between black and colored Africans. Actually, we think it all resembles the cities that we have seen thousands of throughout West Africa. But we hear again and again that crime in the Cape Flats is enormous. And out of control. Murders are committed daily. Gangs compete. Extortion and robbery are big business. It is a hard life for most people who live here, regardless of whether you have a job or not. 

Although we would like to insist on the good in people and not be cowed, we of course take the only sensible solution, which is to cycle a big loop around it. We know that there are more good ordinary people with peaceful intentions living in the Cape Flats than there are criminals. But the frequency and degree of violence make it a stupid project to want to prove the good in people. 

Arrival in Cape Town

The decision means a couple of days of detour, north of Cape Town, where we can cycle in on a less dangerous road. The iconic Table Mountain, the city's landmark, towers over the horizon, with its completely flat top. Once again, we feel in our whole bodies how the end of the trip is near.

The detour takes us right past our good friends, Mikkel and Janine's house, where we will be staying for the last few days before heading home. So of course we take a break by their pool while we prepare for the last stretch. 

Mikkel works with efforts in slum areas in Africa. Janine with sustainable trade. We couldn't dream of a better end to our trip than to be with really good friends. And even friends who have just as passionate thoughts about Africa as ourselves. And a huge amount of knowledge. We have many good conversations where we try to understand more of this amazing continent. At the same time we have golden moments with Tessa, Felix and Mila. Mikkel and Janine's three children, each of whom is the coolest, sweetest, funniest nuggets of gold.

Ubuntu

Suddenly the end is near. Our bodies are starting to tingle. We don't want to go home. We already miss the adventure, even though it's definitely not over yet. But Cape Town is a modern metropolis with everything the heart could desire, and we find ourselves sitting in cafes in newly purchased clothes while sipping cappuccinos. But we miss the wildness of West Africa. We try to close our eyes and see street scenes from Congo in our inner gaze. Children at the pump in the villages. Pots over an open fire. Smashed cars bumping along bumpy dirt roads, jammed with people. But most of all, we miss the presence. If there's one thing we've learned in Africa, it's the immense power of community. It's an understanding that slowly creeps into the body when you've been in Africa for a long time and surrender. The feeling of never being alone forces you to let go of your ego and instead embrace community. It's beautiful when you first understand it. To do everything for the good of all, rather than for one's own gain. To share everything. To respect and help each other. In South Africa they call it Ubuntu. It's a good word that we want to remember. 

A person is only a person, by virtue of other people. 

Limited freedom of movement

From the pool in Mikkel and Janine’s garden, we can see the clouds drifting over the cliffside of Table Mountain, like a large waterfall in cotton wool. Tessa, Mikkel and Janine’s youngest, calls it a “Cloudfall”. She speaks fluent English after living here for a year. All three children adapt very quickly to the new reality in Africa. But as Mikkel and Janine say, the family lives in a bubble here. Like all white people in Cape Town.

During apartheid, the whites in South Africa built a mental prison for themselves. They wanted power and money and the only way they could figure out how to do it was by oppressing the blacks and coloureds in the ugliest way. Since then, the whites have lived in fear of their fellow countrymen. We still don't understand why the whites don't apologize once and for all for the terrible things their ancestors did, so that the slate can be wiped clean. Instead, they cage themselves behind barbed wire and guards to protect the wealth they have built on apartheid. But we can understand that they are afraid. 80% of the population is black or coloured. Only 16% are white. 

For Mikkel, Janine and the children, this means that the children have to be driven to everything. To school, to gymnastics, to Ukulele, to playdates. No white person walks or cycles very far in Cape Town. This means that when you get your first boyfriend, there is no chance of keeping it a secret from your parents!

We walk and cycle around a bit ourselves. A few times we can feel that we are approaching the edge of the areas where we cannot move freely. A young man with a gang tattoo on his face wants to talk to us. He is out on parole, so he doesn't want to cause trouble, but he tries some gentle blackmail: 

“You're probably afraid to take your wallet out of your pocket so I can see how many bills you have in it.” 

We shake him off after a while. It's not our first day in Africa, so we can get carried away. But we can also see why we should stick to the safe areas. Why you can't just cycle around as you please. 

School trip to the Cape Flats

One of Mikkel's good friends is a school superintendent at a school on the Cape Flats. He asks if we would like to come out to the school and tell the students about our journey through Africa. Of course we would like to. If we can help give hope and dreams to children in a difficult area, that would be fantastic. 

Ox picks us up and tells us on the way to school that he usually calls the gatekeeper in advance so they can keep the gate open when he comes. It's too dangerous to stand outside and wait. When we arrive, we're a couple of hours later than he usually is. That's why we're out of the rush hour traffic. Ox points to broken glass on the road and says: 

“It's from tomorrow.” 

When people stop at red lights in the morning, young criminals come and smash car windows to steal money and phones. If you are not quick to give up your valuables, you risk being shot. 

Inside the gate, the school is like a little piece of paradise, in the middle of the tough slum area. It's clean and tidy, and everyone is smiling and laughing. Both children and adults. It's clearly a safe place where you can let go of your worries. 

The children are really cute, and we each get 3 children to make a reading group with. We get a book, sit in a circle and read aloud together. Then we join dance lessons and get high-fives from the children when we dare to throw ourselves into cool moves. However, that's nothing compared to what the children themselves can do. Every one of them could win a talent show in Denmark without any problems. 

Before we give our lecture, the whole school gathers in the church. It is a Friday gathering point, and there is loud and beautiful singing. Everyone claps and dances. The songs are usually just one verse, which is repeated over and over again in a gospel style. It is a great physical experience, and we are both completely carried away by the intense atmosphere. Visiting a Danish church service will never be the same again. 

In a classroom, about 40 students and the school's teachers have settled in as we turn on the projector and show pictures from the trip. Ox has prepared us well:

“Just make a good start, and there will probably be lots of questions.” 

And indeed, we are constantly bombarded with good, funny, observant questions for a short hour. We try to focus on trust between people and hope that we may have planted a small sprout in the youth. Imagine if these children, instead of crime, could get a job and live a safe and peaceful life. 

On our way out the gate, Ox casually mentions that a man was shot on the road while we were inside the school. We can't believe our ears. Did he mean today? Or yesterday? Or last week? Or was it actually now, while we were inside the school?

The fact is that about two people are shot a day in the Cape Flats. We look at the small houses and tin sheds through the rolled-up car windows on our way back to the center of Cape Town. 

Exciting visit on the last leg of the trip

After a few days with Mikkel and Janine, we get on the bikes for the final triumphant ride, towards the Cape of Good Hope. 

Along the way, we will visit exciting people whom we have long been looking forward to meeting. 

Jørn Stjerneklar is married to Helle Maj. They live in Hout Bay. A small town on the way to the Cape of Good Hope. We have written to them and introduced ourselves and Helle and Jørn have invited us to lunch. 

Jørn has written a fantastic book: “The heart does not forget what the eye has seen”. A harsh and loving account of Africa. Jørn has lived and worked in Africa for 40 years as a photojournalist. He has been in many of the conflict areas while they were in full swing. But that has not extinguished his love for Africa, for its people. He writes dazzlingly about it all in his book. And about his love for Helle. 

When we read the book, which was published just before we left Denmark, we already knew that we would try to contact them. 

We had a bottle of wine with us and the conversation went on happily and effortlessly over homemade Danish rye bread and good cheese. 

Helle Maj has also written a book that we are looking forward to reading: “The Black Widow.” About the murder of a Dane in South Africa.

Overall, the two have a nose for good stories in Africa, and it is a huge recommendation from here to read their books. 

We left Helle and Jørn very late in the afternoon, drunk and bubbly, not only from the wine, but also from all the fantastic stories they told about life in Africa. 

Later that evening we arrived at the home of Søren Bendixen and his wife Jannie. Søren is the Africa correspondent for DR. 

Even before we entered the door, a bottle of wine was ready on the table. And the interesting conversations continued well into the late hours. Søren had completely different and truly interesting perspectives on Africa. 

The next day we took the whole family to the beach, where there was a lifesaving competition. A sport we had no idea existed. A large group of very young boys and girls, with completely ripped upper bodies, competed in running, swimming, paddling on a board, etc. It's the only sport we've ever heard of that actually has a good purpose. In order to compete, you have to fulfill your duty with a number of hours of lifesaving per month. A sport with a social contribution in a country that needs lifeguards in their cold, shark-filled waters. And oh well – the seals in the area have apparently gotten rabies, so you have to be extra careful when swimming. 

The long-awaited ending

Two quick hours on the bike in the morning light brought us the last kilometers down to the final station. Now! Finally! We could see the Cape of Good Hope rock formation emerging, against the azure blue background of the Atlantic Ocean. It is a fantastically beautiful sight. Still completely unreal. But my whole body was overwhelmed with joy at the sight. 

We rode our bikes to the legendary sign, parked up against it, and climbed onto the sign so we could take the symbolic photo that a long journey had come to an end. 

Joy bubbled within both of us, and even though a fight and a bad mood almost developed in the long queue of tourists to take a picture at the sign, nothing could take away the pride in the moment from us. 

We knew there wouldn't be any confetti or fanfare. But there were plenty of curious tourists who asked us to tell our story and congratulated us on our achievement. It gave us goosebumps to tell stories and a nice perspective on what we had just accomplished. 

A romantic twist

After some time we put down our bikes. We walked up the rock face a bit and found a ledge to sit on, away from the crowds. 

As we leaned in, we talked about how the trip had affected us. How the recent time had brought us closer together. Of course, there had been hard times along the way, but we had managed to resolve the conflicts together and show each other that our love was greater. 

With the Cape of Good Hope as a witness, Kenneth got down on one knee and asked Marie if she would marry him. 

It was a Yes!

And so one adventure ended, while another can now begin. 

We are back in Capetown, where we celebrate every day. We celebrate that we have cycled 30,641km from the North Cape to the Cape of Good Hope. We celebrate that we are together. And we celebrate that we are getting married. 

Soon we will be home again

Everyday life has started to take its toll, so while we explore Cape Town, we answer messages from home. Job offers are coming in. We are working on a new lecture, which is already taking shape. Articles and interviews are being offered and agreed upon. We are packing up our bikes. And we are enjoying the last time with our good friends Mikkel and Janine. In the meantime, we are processing what we have experienced and what we have learned from cycling from Cape to Cape.