When I set out on my bike from Berlin, my goal was clear: to embark on a long, meaningful journey that would take me across Europe, possibly over several years. What I didn’t anticipate was how much this journey would teach me about myself and how it would evolve in ways I hadn’t planned for.
Berlin to the Dutch Border: The Adventure Begins
The first few days on the road were a mix of excitement and challenges. I traveled through Germany, mostly camping in the wild. In the evenings, I would find a quiet spot by the edge of a field or near a road. It wasn’t always quiet, but the sense of freedom made up for it. Wild camping gave me a unique connection to nature, something I truly enjoyed.
Crossing into the Netherlands, the landscape and experience changed drastically. The country is truly a paradise for cyclists, with smooth, dedicated bike lanes and drivers who respect and accommodate bicycles. As I pedaled into Zwolle, I found a beautiful campsite in a small village, almost like staying in someone’s backyard. It was peaceful, with only a few other campers, all of them with tents—much like myself. This was a welcome change from my wild camping experience in Germany.
When I reached Amsterdam, I stayed with a friend I had met two years earlier during a trek in the Himalayas in Nepal. Seeing her again was heartwarming, and it gave me a more personal connection to Amsterdam and the Netherlands as a whole. Staying in a home after several nights of camping made it even more special.
Heading South: Rotterdam, Antwerpen, and the Wind
From Amsterdam, I followed the coast towards Rotterdam. This part of the journey was stunning but difficult, with strong winds pushing against me. At times, it felt like I was making little progress, but the coastal beauty made every pedal worth it. Cycling by the sea brought a sense of tranquility, even when the wind made the ride more exhausting than anticipated.
In Rotterdam, I camped near the port and continued my journey the next day toward Antwerpen. Originally, my plan had been to head straight to Paris along the Atlantic coast, but due to the relentless southwest winds, I decided to reroute through Belgium. Antwerpen provided a perfect place to rest, and I spent two days there to recover from the physical strain. I found a lovely campsite on the outskirts of the city, where I met other cyclists, all of us sharing the common bond of exploring the world on two wheels. The wind had become my biggest challenge, and resting in Antwerpen allowed me to regain my energy.
Belgium and France: From the Hills to the City of Lights
Belgium was a beautiful ride, with well-maintained bike paths, especially in the Flemish part. As I moved into the French-speaking regions and eventually into France itself, the quality of the roads began to decline, and the terrain became hillier. I knew these hilly stretches would be challenging, but they were the type of physical exertion I had anticipated. What I didn’t anticipate was the toll they would take on my Achilles tendons.
Just before Paris, I treated myself to a night in a hotel—the only one on this journey. I had been feeling pain in my Achilles tendons for several days, and I realized I needed a proper rest. This wasn’t just about taking a break from the road; it was about listening to my body and understanding its limits.
Arriving in Paris felt like a victory, but it also marked a turning point. Cycling through the iconic city was a surreal experience, yet my body was telling me it couldn’t keep going. After two weeks and over 1,000 kilometers, I had to accept that I needed to stop. That night, I made the difficult decision to end my cycling journey and take a bus back to Berlin.
The Lessons Learned: Listening to My Body and Embracing Change
Deciding to stop wasn’t easy. I had envisioned this journey lasting for years, telling everyone that I would be traveling the world by bike. There was a part of me that felt embarrassed, as if I had failed. But this experience has taught me something profound: life isn’t about sticking rigidly to a plan; it’s about adapting to what is.
My Achilles tendons weren’t recovering, and I knew I had to listen to my body. Pushing through pain wouldn’t serve me in the long run, and I didn’t need to prove anything. What really mattered was understanding that rest and change are just as valuable as perseverance.
Nature, Connection, and Moving Forward
What I’ll cherish most from this trip is the deep connection I felt with nature and the freedom of being on the open road. Camping, often in the wild, allowed me to experience something raw and real—waking up with the sunrise, cooking simple meals on a camp stove, and sleeping under the stars. Yet, I also realized how important human connection is for me. Staying with friends in Amsterdam, meeting fellow cyclists at campgrounds, and interacting with locals reminded me that relationships and social bonds are just as important as solitude.
I’m grateful for the support of my family and friends, who reminded me that I don’t need to accomplish something monumental to be valued. I am enough as I am, and this journey has been a powerful reminder of that.
What’s Next?
Although I’ve paused this cycling adventure, my travels aren’t over. I’ve now set my sights on India, where I plan to visit spiritual places and ashrams. The next part of my journey won’t be about physical endurance but about spiritual exploration and inner growth. I also look forward to future cycling adventures, perhaps in the Norwegian fjords next summer, but with a different approach—one that’s more attuned to my body’s limits and that allows for connection with others along the way.
This trip has been a reminder that life is dynamic, and being agile means adapting to change, not just in work but in life as well. Whether it’s on the road or in our personal journeys, the true value lies not in sticking to the plan but in learning from every step, even when the path takes unexpected turns.
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