BIKEPACKINGAMSTERDAM-LISBOA 2023

Throughout this cycling odyssey, knowledge has woven its way into my experience. It wasn't a deliberate pursuit; my initial aim was merely to uncover and connect with beautiful places and people. After seventeen years of structured learning in the realm of the mind, I hungered for an adventure that would enlist my body, leaving me physically drained rather than mentally spent.

STATISTICS

📏 Distance: 3.054 km

📅 Duration: 60 Days

📈 Ascent: 21.440 m

📉 Descent: 21.380 m

⛰️ Highest: 1.490 m

🪜 Stairs: 118 m

⛴️ Ferry's: 8 (19,5 km)

🛞 Flat tires: 4

DAY 0.

Preparation

What do you take on a two-month journey? I have tried to approach this as a designer, aiming for a bike that is as light as possible while providing maximum comfort. It is my first attempt at this endeavor, so mistakes are inevitable.

As someone without a specific passion for cycling, I must create enough distraction during my journey. Cycling will be my 9-to-5 job, alongside which I want to have leisure time. For this purpose, I bring a camera, along with two lenses, as well as pens and paper.

I will remain in the privileged Western world throughout my entire journey, where shops and people are always nearby in case I forget something.

DAY 1.

Discomfort

The first time I pedaled for more than forty kilometers in a single day. The total distance of today; 94,3 kilometers, feels like an eternity. I wonder if I can truly savor the next two months; every day, I'll have to mount my 1974 Gazelle weighing 45 kilos anew. For now, the surroundings are still familiar, with well-paved bike paths and pleasant weather. I need to discover a purpose in my journey, something that will keep me going when I encounter more challenging situations than today.

DAY 3.

Fighting Belgian Winds

Together with Hugo, a friend who I met during my studies in Italy, I cycle through Zeeland, heading towards Ghent, followed by Lille and then Paris. The wind rushes past our ears as we traverse the open landscapes. For hours, we pedal without encountering a soul.

When darkness falls, we arrive in Ghent, where we instantly get invited for beers by a stranger, it shows us what we are doing is not something completely normal, it is rather cool, using bikes as a way of transport as two twenty one year olds, although we could have all the luxury in life.

We spent the night at a friend's place in the center of Ghent. An air mattress on the floor of an old kitchen suddenly feels like a five-star hotel.

DAY 5.

Boring Bocage

Northern France, an area of rolling hills where wind and rain have free play. Much like the landscape, getting to know the people here is essential. It's about the rawness, whether it's a brutalist building or a farmer maneuvering a massive machine across his land. At times, it feels like stepping into a sci-fi world.

My body had to adapt to constant physical exhaustion, coupled with the busy main roads that connect the cities, making this part of my journey one of the more challenging stretches.

DAY 7.

Paris; the First Milestone

Paris is where the journey comes to an end for Hugo, and where I continue alone. At least, after I take a few days of rest to allow my body to recuperate.

It's an abrupt change, transitioning from the raw, open landscapes of northern France with constant rain, intense headwinds and trucks flying past on big main roads to suddenly immersing ourselves in a city. Before we know it, we are cycling through the suburbs of Paris. In large cities, I almost always feel a sense of solitude, especially when cycling through the outskirts. The poverty and constant neglect of people is more evident than ever.

DAY 17.

Riding Along the Wealthy Loire

I sense a rhythm; my body adapts to the physical exhaustion I endure day after day. I cycle calmly, free from any form of stress, knowing that I only need to fulfill my basic needs for food, drink,

and sleep. It's been almost twenty days since I departed from Amsterdam, an era ago, it seems. The final months of my studies flew by without much contemplation; now, it feels as though I've been alone for just as long, without encountering anyone familiar.

Seventeen days after leaving Amsterdam, today, I wake up in a small tent. The tent is poorly concealed between a forest and a gently flowing river. After a short night, due to the number of cars and trucks shining their headlights at my tent in the darkness of the night, I'm awakened by eight loud chimes from the clock in the nearby village. It is time to pack up and do the same thing I did yesterday.

In hindsight, the region of the Loire turns out to be one of the best rideable segments of my journey. The challenge of EuroVelo along the Loire is resisting the temptation to rest on the numerous benches scattered everywhere and simply enjoy the beautiful, but quiet, surroundings with its beautiful castles and huge country houses.

DAY 29.

The Calm Before the Storm

It's a significant leap forward in my journey. The days have been sunny, perfect for both cycling and relaxation. I've enjoyed the surf culture that lingers in this region of France. Every day cycling further south brings a growing sense of freedom, evoking memories of vacations from the past.

The roads I have been cycling on the last week were flat. Until today; at 2:30 in the afternoon when entering Bayonne, I see a wall. A wall towering over a thousand meters high. A wall marking the border between France and Spain. A wall that is about to breathe new life into my journey. A wall I must climb. And a wall that is undeniably intimidating.

DAY 31.

Facing the Wall

A day of ups and downs, both in my inner state of mind and across these expansive Pyrenees. It feels as if the mountains have shaken me vigorously today, but persistence will always pay off in the end. That impressive wall, which I first encountered two days ago, is now behind me, carrying a deeper meaning than just the physical challenge. It seems as though turning back and deciding to return is no longer an option.

This barrier is tangible, especially today, and transcends even the geography; it touches the culture. As I stroll through the streets of Pamplona in the evening, the most significant difference becomes apparent. It's the vibrant atmosphere of outdoor living, contrasting with how we spend our time indoors north of the towering peaks. Here, you don't invite friends into your home; instead, you take them to an inviting bar. The entire city seems infused with this welcoming atmosphere, and I must confess, it doesn't sound too bad at all.

DAY 32.

Camino de Santiago
I had no intention of following the Camino de Santiago de Compostella. The madness and chaos of a human train heading towards a single destination seemed dreadful to me. Why not embark on a solitary hike in the Pyrenees? Upon arriving in Pamplona, I decide to book a hostel; eight euros for a bed, cheaper than many campsites in France. Additionally, I'm invited by Paulino, my downstairs neighbor, to prepare a meal together. Paulino teaches me a lot about the Santiago and, most importantly, shows me how open the people here are to engaging in meaningful conversations. I decide to partially follow the Camino Frances; at that moment, I was yet to discover that I would eventually complete the entire pilgrimage.

DAY 39.

Spanish Highlands

Drenched and chilled to the bone, I reach Sarria. My poncho paired with a raincoat cannot prevent the rain from taking its toll. In this town, someone emerges on the horizon. It's Lucas, the Brazilian who, just a few days ago, persisted for over half an hour with his stories about his 'headhunter' job in Switzerland. Lucas is what you might call a pilgrim of comfort. He stays in luxurious hotels, indulges in exquisite meals, rides an expensive full-suspension mountain bike with just one saddlebag (he probably only needs money to sustain himself), and his most striking possession at the moment is a good raincoat.

Together, we continue our cycling journey until a steep climb looms ahead. Whether it's the thrill of surpassing the quadruple

Ironman with a ten-minute lead or the emergence of the sun breaking through, remains uncertain. What is clear, however, is that my energy levels soar thanks to the company and conversations (at least, before the climb) during our ride. It underscores the social nature of humans. The fact that a simple interaction enables me to effortlessly ascend a hill I once dreaded so much.

The Pyrenees stood as an imposing wall that cleaved my journey in two, with the predominant factor being the weather. While France offered mostly warmth and calm, here, gusts of wind, sometimes reaching 80 km/h, would howl around me. Combined with the rain, there were times when I cycled for hours on end, head bowed, eyes fixed on the road. It became an endurance test, especially when glancing at the weather forecast predicting this for the next two weeks. Yet, I notice that my mental state remains unwavering. The hardship, the discomfort, paradoxically gives rise to feelings of joy and comfort.

Aware that these challenging days are forging my resilience, I persist until better weather emerges. This transformation only unfolds on day 59, as I cycle into Lisbon.

DAY 46.

Arriving in Portugal

As I enter Portugal, a sense of the finish line looms. This finish line suddenly doesn't feel like a goal anymore; I look forward to it, yet I lament that my journey is coming to an end.

Now, knowing that in the following days, there will be persistent rain, I will be facing strong headwinds every day, and the condition of the Portuguese roads will not make my route easy, I slowly start to see Lisbon again as a goal and endpoint during the following days.

DAY 59.

The Final Stretch

After exactly sixty days, I reach Praça do Comércio in the heart of Lisbon. A wave of euphoria washes over me, yet the realization that my cycling journey has led me here hasn't fully sunk in. My thoughts drift more towards what is happening now in Lisbon and the days, weeks, and months that lie ahead.

It doesn't matter; even during my cycling journey, I didn't know what the days held in store. One thing is certain: there must be a goal, a goal without necessity, a goal that serves only to be a goal. Just as Lisbon was the endpoint of my journey, it gave me the strength to persevere and enjoy, but if I merely wanted to see the city, I could have flown to Lisbon.

Thanks, everyone, for the support! I've realized how privileged I am. The freedom I've experienced is thanks to the hard work of other people.