Photos from the exhibition in Phnom Penh.

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Two months to the day since I rolled those last kilometers into Phnom Penh, I have had quite some time to digest the incredible experiences of my epic cycling adventure. It’s hard to put such a journey into words as each and every day was so different from the previous one, the terrain, the weather, the people, often the food. It’s hard to summarise such a journey, in fact, I don’t think I need to! I think what will stay with me the longest is just how incredibly similar we humans are, everywhere, what we don’t know about each other we are scared of, this is the cause of so much misunderstanding. Traveling gives us the perfect opportunity to know what we don’t have to be scared of. I’m often asked how it felt to arrive, to reach  my goal. As I cycled those narrow and busy roads through the buffalo lined, rice paddies and on to my destination I guess I felt mostly sadness that the adventure was over, no massive sense of achievement, just the end of the road….till next time at least.
I hope that you have been able to share at least a portion of the joy that this trip has brought me, certainly the comments I have received from so many have helped keep me going. I have loved hearing from you all! Let the next next adventures begin….

Thanks to your generous donations, around NZ$10,000 was raised. It’s not too late to DONATE to The Cambodia Trust

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Six people sit around laughing as one woman tries to communicate with me. I quickly come to realise that beards and long hair are certainly not attractive to Cambodians, as this is the second time today that I have been told this. As I get back on my bike with a smile on my face and wave them goodbye, I realise that this is it, just 50 km from Phom Penh, I probably won’t have any further such interactions, the end of the road has come.

Since leaving Budapest 200 days before, I have cycled almost 9,800 km in 12 countries requiring 6 visas, 10 land border crossings, once passing through a restricted area and twice changing from the right-hand side of the road to the left. I have pedaled up 12 mountain passes over 3,900 m and the highest being 5,500 m in India and down to -200 m in Iran in temperatures ranging from 45 to -10 degrees

Celsius. Rain has soaked me on just 3 days of biking and snow has fallen twice. I have seen 3 of the remaining 76 soon to be extinct Irrawaddy fresh water dolphins in the Mekong, and observed the massive damming, deforestation and mining operations which are leading to their demise.

Dogs have chased me on over 30 occasions but never seriously attacked. I have rolled past (or over) thousands of dead snakes, lizards, dogs, cats, horses and donkeys, all victims of speeding cars.

Dust storms in Iran caused by over exploitations of water resources in Iraq chocked the air and the residents of Tehran and made breathing difficult. I have inhaled for sure enough exhaust fumes from poorly maintained trucks and burning rubbish to make my lungs look like a smokers.

On a near suicidal dash to Istanbul I covered 162.6 km in one day and in India 7 km of arduous uphill was enough for a semi-rest day. Roaring tail winds propelled me more than 100 km across the desserts of Iran with little effort while brisk headwinds in Thailand kept my brakes on for a tough 70 km slog to the border. I broke the speed limit on 26 occasions, usually as I screamed down a hill and through road works.

My body burned every last ounce of fat as my weight plummeted by 10 kg. My legs grew while every bit of exposed skin turned brown. My beard and hair grew out to create the genuine caveman look which was enough to send small children scurrying in fright.

I had two accidents, once in Serbia where my pedal was damaged and had to be replaced and the second in Thailand where I had to pay for a damaged car and my rear view mirror got smashed. Beyond that the bike sustained little damage with 3 flat tires and a set of brake blocks, 3 new drink bottle holders and 2 bottles of chain oil being the only required spare parts. However, for others, I have built a rack from sticks, fixed a split rim with twigs and hose clamps, pumped tires, replaced spokes, adjusted seats and brakes, sewed up a torn tire and repaired a broken chain. 

I consumed up to 7 normal meals a day and burned about 1.2 million calories of energy all washed down with around 600 litres of water.

I cycled with 28 other cycle tourists from 16 countries and met a further 80 or so.

I took over 9,000 photographs and logged more than 500 GPS positions.

I have been in the national newspaper in Serbia, TV in Cambodia and in a magazine in Iran. I received a gift from a Chinese army general and met the captain of the Bulgarian Air force.

Of the first 63 nights of accommodation, I paid for just 13. I slept about 40 nights in my tent, 16 nights with CouchSurfers, 3 with friends and the remainder in guesthouses, hostels or hotels.

I have listened to 15 languages and observed the subtleties and practices of 8 religions. I have taught 2 English classes in Laos and attended 5 others in Serbia, Iran and Cambodia. I have visited 2 ancient civilisations dating back more than 1,000 years Iran and Cambodia. 

I completed an 80 km bike race on my touring bike in which I finished in the top twenty in a time of 2 hours 21 minutes with an average speed of more than 29 km/h.

And, most importantly, I have met hundreds of wonderful people and enjoyed every minute of it!

Please don’t forget to DONATE to The Cambodia Trust

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I struggle to concentrate on the road as small voices call from every direction, “bye bye”, “sabaidee” or as I reach into Cambodia “hello, bye bye”. I try to wave to each one like the queen on parade (or King maybe). Sometimes I have to strain my eyes to find the little voice coming from a tree, behind a bush or on top of a buffalo. They are anywhere and everywhere. Sometimes only a small hand can be seen above the window sill as the little munchkin peeks through the cracks in the wall boards. Where this enthusiasm comes from, I don’t know. The parents of the smallest children hold their hands to make them wave as I whizz past. It sure makes a passing cyclist feel welcome, though for me I have found it hard to get beyond this and really interact with the people, I feel too different or perhaps to alien to them. Some kids run in fright at the sight of such a hairy man on a bicycle, only to wave from a safe distance. Those adults who do speak English are not easy to engage and those that don’t quickly give up with the sign language or other means of communication. For me, SE Asia has been an incredibly easy place to be, almost to easy with nicely spaced guest houses and endlessly available food and drinks. I’m happy to have had company for most of my time here as it makes life as an observer more enjoyable. I think years of tourism have meant that all foreigners are seen just as rich people who can afford to pay for whatever. To some extent this is true, though with an interest in the people and places far beyond this, I will leave a little sad that I wasn’t able to find a door leading very far into their lives. This certainly is partly my fault as I have not made a huge effort to try to stay with them as I have done elsewhere in the past. But my confidence to do so usually steams from a feeling of mutual interest which I have not felt here. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that travel is not a major part of life and culture, so understanding what I am doing and why I am doing it is very difficult for them to understand.
With just a couple of days to go before I reach Phnom Penh, I start to feel the pinch of the end of an amazing adventure, my thoughts start to gather as I try to put my feelings into words.

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