I cycled from Dubrovnik to Makarska; Croatia turns out to suit me well. Soon it will turn out to be my favorite country in the whole of Europe.
Croatia II
Years of traveling brought me many different insights, philosophies and countries I needed to be (over 90 in total). I lived in Pakistan, went over 15 times to India and when I stopped cycling the world, that was after 50.000 kilometer through 45 countries, I met Geo. Together we now try to be more self-sustainable, grow our own food and live off-grid. I now juggle with the logistics of being an old-fashioned housewife, cook and creative artist loving the outdoors. The pouches I create are for sale on www.cindyneedleart.com
I cycled from Dubrovnik to Makarska; Croatia turns out to suit me well. Soon it will turn out to be my favorite country in the whole of Europe.
I travel so tremendously much, yet I am partly blind! Not only I cycle for 3 years now, I have traveled from A (Afghanistan) to Z (South Sudan; which start with a Z in Dutch language). I thought Croatia a kind of average destination for mass tourism.
How self-sustainable and conscious is living a part of your life as a traveler on a bicycle?
Montenegro, not so far from the Netherlands, yet I had no clue what this country would be. It is much like the other countries in the former Yugoslavia; men wear track suits and a little handbag slung across their chest with a hinge. Women are outfitted over the top and those two combinations match together. A wonderful view.
One thing I absolutely do not like about cycling
Besides rain and getting stuck in branches with my helmet when I search for a place to camp, it is the cycle short. A tight synthetic underwear kind of garment with a thick patch of foam. It feels unnatural. It looks strange. It is not hygienic.
Albania is like the Pakistan of Europe
I dare to say that poorer countries are closer to normality, closer to not extinguish our Earth, because they don’t have the means yet.
A blog post hardly ever goes about a love affair. I took time out to marvel at the thought of being in a love relationship with… a dog.
Greece, or Yunistan, as the Turks call it. I have no clue what to expect on a bicycle, so I am glad two young cyclists, we met a day before the border, said how easy it was to find camp spots. Plus how many turtles they’d helped crossed the road.
The story of a Rabbit with Magical Power
After being back home with my family, I decided not to cycle further to Egypt and into East Africa. It might be rather risky since Turkey is fighting a war with Syria.
The first morning after a successful stealth camp in Turkey we are awakened by hundreds of bells in many tones, with deep sounds, far away yet coming closer. Seems we are discovered by a shepherd, more so by his dog.
Over the years I conclude this is all you need for spare and repair parts. Another visual list of those parts is here to see: ‘Spare & Repair’
For all who wonder what you actually need to carry in your tool bag, here is a neat clear list of contents: tools.
‘Dit zag ik’
De vormgever van een fiets tijdschrift De Wereldfietser vraagt om een foto met daarbij een héél korte toelichting voor de rubriek ‘Dit zag ik’.
Bulgaria first impression… different again!
‘Super bonus,’ says the man who bestows me with two hands full of fruit. I pass him when he was collecting little pears from a tree, his T-shirt chock-full with them. This gesture says so much about the whole country. It is such a beautiful move. I at once lóve Romania!
Elena’s weblog Imagineth says ‘Sometimes you need to stop from whatever you are doing and start dreaming, because dreams come true’. I agree… Elena asked me for an interview, and I lóve interviews:
A helmet or not?
While cycling in the Netherlands I am aware of the many looks I receive. Dutch don’t like to wear a helmet when commuting. Understandable. What is less understandable is that even racers often cycle without a helmet. I think we believe it is not cool to wear a helmet.
A very celebratory piece of cake
Cycling into Serbia is having me think: these small European countries differ so tremendously from each other that it needs a lot of historical knowledge and information about the past. I haven’t got that all, so I better just let Serbia enter!
First a taste of Slovakia, a big difference to the absurd neatness and maddening quantity of agriculture in Austria, where I cycled a mere 25 kilometer through. Cycling through a corner of Slovakia goes via a levy surrounded by thick lofty forest. A forest with such an easy access I am tempted to ride right in, if not I have no food. I am cycling for hours without seeing people nor steeples nor villages. When I do see people, I am happily surprised to see they have lost their Czech ‘fearful’ expression.
‘The world’s too big’
I hear the song of Ryan Montbleau and must admit it is so. Yet, being in Czech Republic feels like I am already getting away from the known. The bicycle is detaching me from the comfort zone, although these parts of Europe are still easy to slide through. Pleasantly easy…
I got an email from Brent a few months ago. He wanted me to cooperate for his website. I did, but things were never published (as far as I know). Don’t want all the work to be for nothing, so I’ll share it.
Functional neatness, skleps and pierogi’s
After a 3 month of unexpected rest the cycle itch have me going again. By starting at the doorstep in the Netherlands I let the wind direct me: it’s blowing east.
A pity that in the beginning of the trip I focused more on cycling than on making photo’s. Making a good photo takes time: you need to get off the bicycle most of the time, you need to take quite a few to have the exact right frame setting -although often the first picture is the best-.
An individualistic country where portion sizes are for 2
I feel like I burst out of the stretchy seams of my Lycra cycle wear. Or is that mostly because people along the coast of California are so incredible aware of their appearance? Since delicious cooking is meant to be eaten by cyclists like me, I better just eat.
‘Cherish life simple pleasures’ is written on the toilet I sit on
Cycling is having áll your senses open. Waking up by first light and retiring quickly after it gets really dark. I usually take full advantage of the last fading day colors so not to light the Petzl.
One American cookie is equal to the price of a few Indian street meals.
Arizona doesn’t have many towns on the route. I am mostly surrounded by stunning natural beauty. Yet so far, one town immediately impressed me: Ajo. Where a white church reminds me of Nicaragua, or maybe just the old Spanish colonial style.
Entering the land of the Tohono O’Odham native Americans
Cycling in the USA is like being inside a kaleidoscope. It is so changeable, landscapes go from cacti-tales to magnificent Irish-alike highlands. It is, of course, spacious too. As soon as you get out of a town you are right into the nature, and it takes hours before I see another place to buy groceries.
A tiny settlement of wooden structures next to a run-down gas station where a few families are living is where we turn to buy frozen burrito’s and potatoes.
I’m now cycling in the United States. I didn’t come here to be amongst indigenous people, to experience colorful cultures or to maintain my Indian budget. I didn’t come here because I had thrown an arrow at the map of the world. The reason I decided not to continue on from India over-land to Australia are circumstances.
Spanish Diego has a great cycling website about sharing routes, finding inspiration, information and planning bike tours.

Durston X-Mid 1 ultralight tent

Soto titanium pot & Vargo hexagonal titanium stove

Valtcan titanium bento box

Bushcraft-Essential Bushbox outdoor stove XXL

Cycling Cindy in her very own wonderland vs. the rough India-mode
‘Are you on a trip around the world?’ asks an eighty year aged man who’d come sit next to me on a wooden bench. Not so difficult to answer but without trying to form an extended answer I reply ‘yes’. I am on a trip around the world, even though that is cycling over destined cycle paths to Germany and a little into Denmark.
The ‘Fucking Hippie’ in a hurry through the Himalaya
I am called the hippie when it was clear I like to concentrate on ‘weird’ people, people who have stepped out of their known society and do something different.
The modern-day hippie who thought she’d fled from the rat race
The pedaling from Shimla to Reckong Peo went well. Though I must admit I start to question the reason of cycling in a loop?
45,000 kilometer further. Am I still happy with my gear?
The start of the Himalayan Ride
Nutshell flashback: I have just cycled a 3500 kilometer straight through India in summer and have arrived in pre-monsoon Delhi. Taking a ten days rest where I do many things but rest, I need to find out about my way onward.
It’s a bloody hot business: cycling in summer!
The heat. That terrible heat. Building up each day and gathering in the air, being hoarded by hazy invisible clouds who attract the heat and collect it, to give it to you in the night, so you’ll be warm and toasty.
Rajastan my love! I again recognize you!
Entering Rajastan is the beginning of bad roads. Every new province seems to introduce itself by a difference in their tarmac, an indication perhaps that there are more important subjects for a province than a road.
The troubles of finding lodging and succeeding in beating the heat
‘What do you like most about India?’
Being a bit tired of many little interviews a day, I answer the simple truth:
‘Mango’s!’
‘Did you see dinosaurs?’
‘Here? In Omkareshwar? No,’ is my answer to the strangely attractive Brahmin with blue eyes. He’s got a fair complexion and for a moment I think he’s a Westerner. A very good one, copying a pilgrim though.