On a cargo bike through Eastern Europe

On a cargo bike through Eastern Europe

The Maidan revolution in Ukraine was in full swing. The protests in Kiev were violent and Maidan Square was barricaded. There was armed fighting at the front in eastern Ukraine.

When I was living with a woman in a dingy apartment in Minsk, Belarus, she turned on the radio in the kitchen in the morning while we were eating cheese sandwiches. We were listening to the shooting from the front in Ukraine, and she waved her index finger in the air in front of my face and said “Ukraine – No-no!!”. I tried to assure her that I wasn’t going to the front and that I should be careful and take care of myself.

On my first morning in Ukraine, I poked my head out of my tent, next to a small river. There was a man fishing. He invited me home for breakfast, and before 10 o'clock, I was drunk on vodka, full of delicious local specialties, and high on life after having made a beautiful friendship with the man and his family.

He didn't know a word of English, but called his daughter, who could translate. Through her, he said: "It's only the big, powerful politicians who create disagreements and chaos in the world. We ordinary people like each other and are good at getting along. There are no problems here."

It was my first long bike ride. I had chosen an Omnium Cargo bike because it was fun and eye-catching. And its large cargo bed was incredibly practical to pack on. I got a lot of attention on it along the way, and I found out how easy it is to strike up a conversation with locals when there is something to talk about. People asked if they could get on the bed and ride along. I even got in the newspaper in Belarus because I caused a stir.

I'm sure my aviator ears grew even bigger as I approached Kiev. I was hyper-aware of any signs of conflict. But everything was peaceful, all the way until I could wheel my bike into Maidan Square. There was barbed wire and barricades. Tanks were strategically placed. A wall of pictures and flowers reminded all passersby of the sacrifices that had been made in this chaos of hope for a better future.

I met some local young people who invited me to stay with them. Just as they had hosted Yaya Hassan months earlier. Through them I learned about the revolution and what they were fighting for. The young girls were not allowed to take an active part in the conflict, but had set up a soup kitchen from which they brought food to those besieging the square. A week after I left Kiev, I received word from the girls that the police had forcibly cleared the entire square. The front remained in eastern Ukraine, but in the capital life was now going on as normal.

When I stood at the end of the trip at the Potempkin Stairs in Odessa, looking out over the Black Sea (or rather the industrial port that blocked the view), it was just the beginning of this summer's adventure. Then I went to the Alps, to mountain bike from Mt. Blanc to the Matterhorn – From Chamonix to Zermatt. And to crown the work, I climbed Mt Blanc.