When cycling had stopped, the full outdoor lifestyle came to a halt as well. Yet desperately wanting to be out in nature there needed to be other outlets. That is not always easy to combine as the mindset has troubles adjusting: from a home base to try grasping that fleeting living-outside-having-no-home lifestyle. It has been some trying and searching, situations regularly and suddenly changed and having a steady base only recently, let’s see what’s in store.
‘When you are too long on your own, chances are you might get weird. However much I am a loner, I too need others to mirror myself with.’
‘Long term travel will make you see, by stepping out of society as we know it, that the West has gone far, far overboard.’
The Transition
I have embraced the fact that I stopped cycling and am not missing it a whole lot. But sometimes there are these pangs of wanting to feel that excitement, the newness, the unknown, the full outside living, traversing vastness and fully soaked in to another culture.
‘When cycling you will often be seen as someone doing something extra ordinary. This lift up your ego after a while. After years of this extra attention you get used to it and thus it becomes normal.’
Meet Jeffrey, a Dutchman I met in Chile. He a guy on a motorbike. I a woman on a bicycle. Same stretch of road. Same philosophy. How does he experience adventure, and what exactly is adventure?
A blessing and a curse came our way in the form of an enormous house where we had to take care for, which took us three full months to convert into 3 livable apartments that can be rented out. This prevented us from working at the truck, let alone to live in it. Nevertheless, preparing a house was a fun task in a beautiful surrounding. I loved the work and beautifying the 3 apartments, yet inevitably I missed being outdoors a lot.
‘Adding the fact that ‘doing good’ comes from the heart, does not mean the mind has no say in this. Building toilets for ‘poor black’ but able Africans or distributing bags of rice to people along the fertile bushroad is not smart.’
The pro’s and con’s of deciding to live life differently, focusing on a cycling life.
A year in retrospect: I left Paraguay, tailing the trail of Geo, whom I married. Trying to combine a husband, a house, a truck and myself is a different cookie than traversing the world on a bicycle.
Is South America on your wish-list of countries to travel through, perhaps by bicycle, then I hope I can inspire you. When you like to see pretty, soothing or curious photo’s, here they are.
From traveling the vastness of the earth by public transport to a bicycle came to me as a flash. I got myself a bicycle and I cycled over 5 years nearly constantly, through more than 40 countries, a total of close to 50.000 kilometers.
At the end, this post has bloody images, unsuitable when you’re having your lunch synchronous with reading this post. But when you’re a carnivore, I urge you to watch them.
The farm had slaughtered a cow as she was having a tumor of some sort. She was released relatively painless.
Have you decided to explore the world on a bicycle, then camping is part of it. As the outside seems so much more spooky than a house, the first thing that comes to mind is: ‘Is it not dangerous?’ On the contrary, in fact, it is not so much about danger. Much more camping is about management of daily changing circumstances and how to deal with them. Rather exciting and never dull indeed!
Having attracted a bacterial infection makes walking painful, not a very welcome happening now Geo (who soon became my husband!) and I are replacing the hardworking Andreas and Elvira at Iparoma farm. Meanwhile the news reports about a missing Austrian man in Cerro Leon reach us, and Geo and I decide to go another little trip as soon as we are relieved from our tasks. Off to Cerro Leon!
An overrated name for a bread but besides that, a very welcome change! When you have had enough fluffy bread, walnut sourdough, chapati’s, baguette and whole grain healthy staff of life, or when you need just that little bit of difference in your daily diet, and you have the luxury of an oven or something alike, try the Life Changing Bread.
Nearly a year earlier: ending up at a farm in Paraguay I met another traveler, Geo, whom I have married. Very unexpected we decided to move away from the farm, somewhere else in Paraguay. But we kept a promise: to replace the workers at the farm when their mom from Germany would visit them, so they could go on a little holiday.
My husband and me leave the lushness of the cordillera behind, zipping through Brazil, meeting unreal real-estate agents on a motorbike and meeting with more Paraguayans in an unchanged rural setting.
More than a year ago: I am together with Geo, whom I met on a Paraguayan farm far north (and who has become my husband). Working and traveling together is one thing, now we will find out whether we match in a whole different surrounding.
More than a year ago: I had lessons in cheese making in mind, where I would portray the newly made foodies with elaborate photographs. The harsh Chaco sunlight filtered by the mosquito screen would make for classy pictures, probably more beautiful than the end result.
From a bicycle to a truck. The ‘Cycling Cindy’ blog continues, the only difference is a bunch of extra wheels. For all who is interested in living a different lifestyle, and for those who want to be inspired or see the landscapes where the truck will come to a halt, stay tuned.
More than a year ago: Baking whole grain bread on a camp fire needs a bit more practise. It takes me 20 kilometer to find a supermarket selling rye, barley and spelt and see who I make happy with it! No better face than a happy face! And I get to see more happy faces: I exchange goat Emma for a human person.
This post has bloody images. This post shows photo’s not corresponding with the farm I worked on. The farm I worked on, and the farm where some of the pictures come from are not unnecessarily cruel to their animals as far as I have been a witness (slaughtering went professional).
Previous post: I am at a big farm, 20 kilometers away from Filadelfia, the capital of the Chaco. I met Marilyn previous year in the supermarket where she asked me whether I wanted to stay at her house. I wanted that, and we have kept contact. Now I can work on a Work Away basis for as long as I want.
I am at a big farm, 20 kilometers away from Filadelfia, the capital of the Chaco, a province far from where the action of Paraguay is. In this town I met Marilyn previous year in the supermarket where she asked me whether I wanted to stay at her house. I wanted that, and we have kept contact. Now, when I am tired of cycling, in need for some good rest, I can work on a Work Away basis for as long as I want, on her farm. ‘Let’s start working!’ is every’s Mennonite motto, this means no rest whatsoever. I start working the day after I arrive.
There’s – little – difference between a man and a woman when it comes to strength. A man is often physically obviously stronger. A woman often mentally. There are, however, significant differences: being a woman requires other items. This is a post for woman in the saddle. Yet, when we are both strong, but on other fields, women do need other stuff than men.
Heike made a post where she asks 4 other experienced solo female cyclists about wild camping. Since we are lone women, many people think this is extra dangerous. But the truth is, it is not, at all. On the contrary.
People ask me the obvious: ‘Are you cycling to Bolivia?’, as this is the only border crossing. I reply: ‘No, I cycle to Filadelfia.’ With cycling to Filadelfia I am trapped. Cornered in a part of the world where is only one official way out. I have set the capital of the Chaco as my final destination, but one day I have to move on, and the only two, official, choices I have I both despise: crossing into Bolivia over a horrible road or turning back.
One thing I never go without is masala chai. In every country cycling through I produce it, or it is produced for me. I always have my own roasted and pounded spices with me. Always! Except nowadays in South America: I can not find cardamom, and if I do, it is crazily expensive!
A couple of months ago, in summer, I met Heike, a German world cyclist whom I know for some years. We got to know each other through social media when I was cycling in India and Heike was somewhere relatively near, perhaps in Oman. Years later we were able to meet.
The big city. Asunción. It turns out to be a good choice. There where bus drivers drink térére while driving, watching their clientage wrestling out of the bus.
Perhaps the motorbike journey could be seen as our honeymoon. I met Geo while he was in the process of buying a motorbike and on that same motorbike we traversed across South America after we were married (we drove much of the route I earlier cycled). Before that, before we married, we got to learn each other and the Chaco by the very same transport.
I have found myself the wrong place to camp, resulting in an adventure though. After two nights of camping peacefully and baking bread, which I described into detail in this post, a surprise came at my tent door. Being back in Paraguay feels remarkable pleasant and the boredom of the Brazilian and Argentinean roads has been exchanged for Paraguayan people I find different, remarkable good-humored.
How to repair a zipper
Nothing as annoying when the zipper of your tent derails, leaving you with flapping doors. Nothing quite as disappointing when your expensive tent is prone to wearing out, just as any other brand.
The second time in Paraguay brings me a different experience. I now know the people, have much more comprehensive skills of the language, I know the landscape’s limitations, it’ll bring me nothing but agriculture, I know it’s only a wastefulness of 400 kilometers before I reach a different geographical region. Then I am done with the long long long long long formation of visible cultivation.
Upon seeing my bicycle, I view it still as my only possible mode of transport but the hooks and eyes are apparent. Besides the usual things such as lack of battery energy means I can’t read much would I have the time for it. Tending friendships are eating up my battery power, if only I had time to write because usually when I am a day in camp I am full with activities which push and pull each other to be done or wanting to be done. I feel my life is brimming to the rim with simplicities I simply can’t get done nor keep up with.
As if injected with a shot containing a little bit of everything, I feel revived, swimming in a pool of contentment, tranquility and a feeling usually unknown to me: at rest. After nearly three weeks inactivity, I must take a day off to reset back into camping, fires and bread baking.
Counted nearly 50.000 kilometers in about 5 years, more or less continously solo pedaling through more than 40 countries. I started off in Africa, where I cycled first through Europe to get accustomed to the cycling lifestyle. When my bicycle broke down I went back to Europe to have the bicycle fixed and continued on, among other countries, via Iraq and Iran. The highlight and also the downfall of my cycling odyssey happened in South america.
Uruguayan music channel on television shows attractive women insufficient dressed, out to rape their overjoyed boyfriends. These boyfriends like to be ravaged by their pretty ladies in bikini, who, in between actions, cook meals. A healthy plate of food where the guy’s pistol is delicately placed next to. After the meal the pistol is tucked into the back of his belt, a shirt pulled over. Another so-called sexy scene arrives, where the bikini clad girl compete over attention with the pistol.
Have you heard of the online magazine from Grace? It is a free magazine about cycling touring where she features people who are on the road, people with stories, tips and idea’s and beautiful photographs. A source of inspiration and a good read. I’m proud to announce that Grace featured me. Grace used a photo I made from one of the best cycling experiences I had.
Cycling Cindy