Chaos. As always. That's just how it is before you set off on a long journey. Friends and family to say goodbye to. The last specific things you are missing in your packaging, which must be ordered home. Insurances, passports, papers. Rent out the apartment. But, as always, it worked out in the end and the day came when I could wheel my bike out the front door onto Istedgade, kiss Marie when we were reunited, and settle into the saddle.
Take off. Again. Alone.
It was with a strange feeling in my stomach that I rolled past all the familiar places and faces in Istedgade, my home, which I will not see again until more than a year from now. A mixture of sadness that whispered I should stay, and longing that called in the distance. The more times I stepped on the pedals, the louder the call of the unknown adventure before me.
I had said goodbye to most people, but not the family in Jutland. So the nose turned towards the ferry on Odden and a weekend on Mols with my mother, brother and family. Great way to spend some quality time together before I had to be without them for a year.
On Sunday afternoon, I really got down to business. Maybe a little too hard. I cycled exactly 20km before the completely newly serviced bike started to complain. It combed over at every thread. I was on and off the bike several times. Think, try, screw up, try again – same problem. Gradually, I got the hang of it, that it must be the freewheel in the hub that came over. One thing I couldn't fix on a dirt road in Mol's hills.
The solution was to drag the bike 5km to a town with a train station and head to Silkeborg. There is a good bicycle shop here. But even better, my good friend Lasse lives there, and we had already agreed that I should come over and spend the night, as the last stop in Denmark.
Long story short, it turned out that precisely the early versions of our rear hub have a fault and the manufacturer replaces the ratchet system under warranty. It cost just one more day, but in return it was nice company in Silkeborg before I could really get south.
On Tuesday afternoon, the bike was fixed and ready for adventure. And to that extent I was too. Even though I didn't set off until 2pm, I still managed 112km on the first day because I was hungry on the road.
Farewell Denmark
Marie and I had an agreement to meet in Spain. So my focus was on running a fairly straight line down there to be able to achieve it in the month I had available. But there was still time to cycle around Bremen and visit another good friend, Jesper, who lives there. I haven't seen him in a long time and it was super cool to visit him and the family. He is one of those friends where, even if we haven't seen each other for several years, the conversation immediately flows easily and fun. It was definitely too short a one-night visit, but I was keen to continue south.
Heinz pieces
During my trip through Germany, I discovered that my route was quite close to Hövelhof. It may not be a city name that people say that much, but for me it is Mini-Mecca. Heinz Stücke lives in sleepy Hövelhof. A legend in touring cycling.
In 1962, aged 22, he cycled out of Hövelhof on an old steel bicycle with 3 gears. 52 years later(!!!), at the age of 74, he returned to his town to settle down. In the meantime, he cycled 648,000km through all the world's countries and territories.
That Heinz Stücke I would like to meet and shake hands with. That's why I contacted him and asked if I could stop by.
2 days later I knocked on his door, where he had stuck a note:
"Nordkapp - Cape of Good Hope. Hopefully! Good luck. Welcome. Come on in. The door is open."
Inside the living room I found Heinz sitting in his office chair, with the walker parked next to it. He was in a brilliant mood and welcomed. The conversation went quickly and effortlessly about places, cities, mountain passes. Heinz has an amazing memory for even the smallest places on the map that he has visited years ago. And he was happy to tell about it all. Heinz talks a lot, and I should stick to it if the conversation were to go two ways, rather than jump restlessly, monologuously between the many places, experiences, moments that his brain is filled with. I was prepared for that, and admittedly, I devoured all his stories and their asides raw.
It's fascinating to imagine spending your entire working life cycling around the world. All the time when his friends get a job, get married, buy a house, have children, change jobs, get divorced, buy a new car, get married again, get older, have grandchildren... All that time Heinz sat on his bike, met new people people all the time, immersed himself in exciting cultures, traveled slowly to all corners of the world, read books, got involved, put himself into political situations, told about what he experienced and tried to understand how it all fits together in the world we living in.
I think Heinz is the richest man in the world. But he has lived his whole life selling pamphlets on the street. His source of income all those years was a pamphlet about his travels, which he sold to interested parties. He's never had a real job. Financially, he is quite poor. But for me he is still the richest man in the world. Rich in experiences. Rich in stories. Rich in spirituality. Rich in life.
The municipality has given him the house he lives in, in the expectation that he will collect all his material for a museum. And that is how his days go by now, at the age of 83. To arrange his 100,000 photos from the world, to make boards about his life, to organize his belongings from the bike bags, into an experience for the curious, in a museum that may only become a reality when Heinz is no longer here.
That, and then sending pamphlets, postcards and books to those who buy via his Facebook.
One can list many records, achievements and honors from Heinz's life, but what touches me is when I imagine the encounters he has had with people. He has been to the smallest corners of the globe, in a time before digital media had already traveled in advance and told him what to experience. He has had to make it through areas where only the help of the locals could guarantee success. He has met people who have been as curious about him as he has been about them. And he has trusted people and met everyone equally.
When I had to leave Heinz the next morning, I felt that he might be a little upset by the short meeting we had. It gave me a stab in the heart and something to remember as the last words he said to me were:
“Remember. No matter what. Most important of all, are the people you meet!”.
Warm showers
Throughout Europe, you can get great pleasure from the Warmshowers network. A website for cyclists where you can ask other cyclists for accommodation en route.
This summer we had Susi staying with us in Copenhagen. She was on her first bikepacking trip in Sweden. We had a great time together and she is a cool woman. When I approached Bonn, where she lives, she wrote that I was very welcome to stop by. That's how I ended up spending two nights with her and Darie, her boyfriend, in Bonn. It's so nice to have a shower and a bit of laundry when you spend most nights in a tent, and both cycle and sleep in the same clothes. But the best thing about these Warmshowers meetings is that you can talk to like-minded people. You can tell a little about your trip and hear about other people's trips. I especially like hearing about other people's lives and local traditions and curiosities.
Sebastien and Helene
In France I lived with Sebastien and Helene, with their 4 children. In addition to long conversations about France's different cheeses, we also had exciting conversations about the way they had chosen to live their lives. The children are home schooled, or unschooled as they called it. They grow and gather themselves, pretty much everything they eat from fruit and vegetables. They are part of the progressive trading environment in the area, which has introduced their own currency (Pive). A currency that can only be used within the region and which aims to limit the economic depletion of local resources. They insist that you can live a life without a car, and without flying, but using the bicycle and train as transport. Even if they live in a rural area in France. To me, they are far ahead of a trend we see in the richer countries; that people think they have more than enough. That they don't need more to have a good life. On the contrary, they appreciate time, togetherness and growing and cooking food from scratch themselves. I think we are going to experience many more who get off the race and actively live their lives in a more calm and balanced way. Both with themselves and with nature.
John and Monica
Another couple I stayed with through Warmshowers were John and Monika. A retired couple who had moved to Andorra because of the tax benefits. And to be at a proper distance from the "blood-sucking bureaucrats", for whom John regularly had a snide comment.
They spent time maintaining and repairing their things, gathering fruit and vegetables in the mountains around the city, and cooking food from scratch. They had, among other things, an old yogurt culture running, so they could make their own yogurt.
As suggested, they didn't have much left for bureaucrats and strict rules. We shut down the discussion about the EU a little quickly, so that John wouldn't explode.
But their choice to live simply, spend less money, but with more time and more peace was inspiring. John retired himself when he turned 50 and has not worked since.
Closer together
It's fantastic to be given these meetings, with people you don't know, but where you can discuss different worldviews and different ideas about life. You can get to know each other better. Usually over a meal, which also brings us closer together. I am deeply grateful for the meetings, of which there are many more than the ones I mention here.
Although the hours, alone - in my own company, are many, on 3,000km in the saddle, through Europe, I carry the meetings with people with me further in my heart. In this way, the meetings take up much more than just the few hours we spend together. They bring joy to many hours when I reflect on our conversations. Where I relive what we did together. Where I perspective their and my own life in the world. And that is a huge gift to receive. It broadens my horizons. It expands my tolerance. And it expands my zest for life.
