Chaos. As always. That's just how it is before you leave on a long journey. Friends and family to say goodbye to. The last specific things you need in your packing that need to be ordered home. Insurance, passports, papers. Renting out the apartment. But as always, it works out in the end and the day arrived when I could roll my bike out the front door on Istedgade, kiss Marie goodbye, 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 for more than a year. A mixture of sadness that whispered that I should stay, and longing that called in the distance. The more times I pedaled, the louder the call from the unknown adventure ahead of me.
I had said goodbye to most people, but not my family in Jutland. So I headed for the ferry at Odden and a weekend in Mols with my mother, brother and family. A great way to spend some quality time together before I had to be without them for a year.
Sunday afternoon I really started pedaling. Maybe a little too hard. I cycled exactly 20km before the completely newly serviced bike started to complain. It was chattering at every thread. I was on and off the bike several times. Thinking, trying, screwing, trying again – same problem. Gradually I figured out that it must be the freewheel in the hub that was chattering. Something I couldn't fix on a gravel road in the hills of Mol.
The solution was to drag the bike 5km to a town with a train station and head to Silkeborg. There is a good bike shop here. But even better, my good friend Lasse lives there, and we had already agreed that I would come by and stay the night, as my last stop in Denmark.
Long story short, it turned out that the early versions of our rear hub had a defect and the manufacturer was replacing the ratchet system under warranty. It cost an extra day, but in return it was nice company in Silkeborg before I could really head south.
Tuesday afternoon the bike was fixed and ready for adventure. And so was I. 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 appointment to meet in Spain. So my focus was on riding a fairly straight line down there to be able to do 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 for a long time, and it was super cool to visit him and his family. He's one of those friends where, even though we haven't seen each other for several years, the conversation immediately flows easily and is fun. It was definitely too short a visit with just one night, but I was determined to continue south.
Heinz Stücke
During my trip through Germany, I discovered that my route was quite close to Hövelhof. It may not be a town name that people think of very much, but for me it is a Mini-Mecca. In sleepy little Hövelhof lives Heinz Stücke. A legend in touring cycling.
In 1962, at the age of 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 countries and territories of the world.
I wanted to meet and shake hands with Heinz Stücke. That's why I contacted him and asked if I could drop by.
2 days later I knocked on his door, where he had tucked a note:
“North Cape – Cape of Good Hope. Hopefully! Good luck. Welcome. Come in. The door is open.”
Inside the living room I found Heinz sitting in his office chair, with his walker parked next to him. He was in a great mood and welcomed me. The conversation flowed quickly and effortlessly about places, cities, mountain passes. Heinz has a fantastic memory for even the smallest places on the map that he visited many years ago. And he was happy to tell me about it all. Heinz talks a lot, and I had to stick to it if the conversation was going to go either way, rather than jumping around restlessly, monologically, between the many places, experiences, moments that his brain is filled with. I was prepared for that, and admittedly, I swallowed all his stories and their digressions raw.
It's fascinating to imagine spending his entire working life cycling around the world. All the time when his friends got a job, got married, bought a house, had children, changed jobs, got divorced, bought a new car, got married again, got older, had grandchildren... All that time Heinz was on his bike, meeting new people all the time, diving into exciting cultures, slowly travelling to all corners of the world, reading books, getting involved, getting involved in political situations, talking about what he experienced and trying to understand how it all fits together in the world we live 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 people. He has never had a real job. Financially, he is quite poor. But to me, he is still the richest man in the world. Rich in experiences. Rich in stories. Rich in spirituality. Rich in life.
The municipality gave him the house he lives in, in the expectation that he would collect all his material for a museum. And that is how he spends his days now, at the age of 83. Organizing his 100,000 photos from around the world, making posters about his life, organizing his belongings from his bicycle 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 could list many records, achievements and distinctions from Heinz's life, but what moves 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 ahead and told him what to experience. He has had to make his way 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 treated everyone equally.
As I was leaving Heinz the next morning, I felt that he might be a little upset about our brief meeting. 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 greatly benefit from the Warmshowers network. A website for cyclists where you can ask other cyclists for accommodation along the way.
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 was approaching Bonn, where she lives, she wrote that I was very welcome to stop by. That's how I ended up staying two nights with her and Darie, her girlfriend, in Bonn. It's so nice to have a shower and some 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 stayed with Sebastien and Helene, with their 4 children. In addition to long conversations about the different cheeses of France, we also had interesting 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 collect almost all the fruit and vegetables they eat themselves. They are part of the progressive trading community 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 use the bicycle and train as transport. Even though they live in a rural area of France. In my opinion, they are far ahead of a trend we see in 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 value time, togetherness and growing and cooking food from scratch themselves. I think we will see many more people who stand up from the race and actively live their lives more calmly and balanced. Both with themselves and with nature.
John and Monica
Another couple I stayed with through Warmshowers was 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 “bloodsucking bureaucrats”, for whom John regularly had a sarcastic 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 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, spending less money but with more time and more peace was inspiring. John retired himself when he turned 50 and hasn't worked since.
Closer together
It is 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 learn more about each other. Usually over a meal, which at the same time brings us closer together. I am deeply grateful for the meetings, of which there are many more than the ones I mention here.
Even though 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 in my heart. In this way, the meetings fill much more than just the few hours we spend together. They bring joy to many hours where I reflect on our conversations. Where I relive what we did together. Where I put their and my own life in the world into perspective. And that is a huge gift to receive. It broadens my horizons. It broadens my tolerance. And it broadens my lust for life.
