Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. ― Mark Twain Gotta do what it is that I do, Then I’m coming back. Got the sun in my face, Sleeping rough on the road, I’ll tell you all about it, When I get home. ― Stereophonics, Long Way Round The greatest danger in life

“Where you travel to, I would love to receive a beautiful postcard.” ― Lailah Gifty Akita “My mother is a great artist, but she always treated her paintings like minor postcards. Had she pursued it, she would have been a great artist. Instead, she looked down on her art.” ― Isabel Allende My journey is long. What I try to do is live in the most frugal and stoic way possible. My daily budget is well below 3/5 € per day. Most days you do not spend more than $

“When a man’s stomach is full it makes no difference whether he is rich or poor.” – Euripides When I was researching and getting ready for my journey I knew that my inexperience in travelling by bike and camping would have not made my life easy. Having decided to start from the Alaskan wilderness meant a steep learning curve right at the beginning. I therefore decided to remove one of the problematic factors that could make me lose a lot of time: food. To remove the problem of preparing breakfasts,

Life’s journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting: Holy shit…what a ride! – Hunter S. Thompson What a crazy story. A year has passed already since 13 August 2015 when in the early afternoon of a normal rainy day I left Prudhoe Bay/Deadhorse on the Arctic Ocean to enter kilometre zero of the Dalton Highway, a spot considered to mark the beginning of the Panamerican Highway. It’s easy to indulge fully in a

If you’re not facing fear every day, you’re getting weaker, not stronger. – Tony Robbins A few days ago I was on a truck surrounded by Indians of La Guajira, on a strip of desert in the northern most tip of South America – a land divided between Colombia and Venezuela. I was on the truck, instead of on my bike. I was stunned, with one hand and neck that were burning, and stinging bumps in my head. With a smile on my face, I drank a sort of native

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