Category: Creative Projects

‘Tell you what,’ said the red-haired girl behind the bar, ‘I’ll give you these three on the house. And then the rest … well, you can decide for yourselves.’ ‘Wow!’ ‘Thank you!’ We were perched upon barstools, Andy to my left, Mark to my right. Thick dark liquid began sliding into the second glass, tilted expertly to allow a steady build-up of foam atop the beer. The result looked like a pint of Guinness in an oversize wine glass: we were about to take our first sip of the famous Belgian Trappist ale. ‘Mmm … that’s delicious!’ Andy took a… Continue reading →

Dumping our bikes on the grass in Deenethorpe, we nervously unpacked our tents and tried to remember how to pitch them. We’d chosen this particular model of tent for its natural shade of green that would blend into the foliage, and I had been looking forward to putting them to the test. I hadn’t expected the reality of it to be so fraught with worry. Looking up from the instruction manual with a mouthful of left-over party cake, I saw with horror that a passing middle-aged couple had noticed us. They slowed their Sunday evening walk; muttered something to each… Continue reading →

Searching the countryside for a place to hide three tents and three very conspicuous bicycles, we finally found the perfect spot: Deenethorpe Village Green. As well as being surrounded on all sides by the mansions and meticulously tended gardens of the local gentry, we were also clearly visible to anyone passing through the tiny village. Despite Andy’s complaints, Mark and I decided that the green was absolutely ideal. A fantastic find – I’d been looking forward to wild camping for so long.   ‘We’d be looking for two tents,’ I’d said. ‘We basically need to be independent, because we’re thinking we… Continue reading →

There were no more emails to send. No more questions to answer. The stack of to-do lists remained to-be-done. And it no longer mattered, because we were finally on our way. Norwegians, I’d heard, called this moment ‘the doorstep mile’ – the first step of a long journey, and the most difficult to make. Resting on a roadside verge a few miles east of my village, I tried to suppress what I supposed was the ache of separation, pretending to Mark and Andy that everything was fine. They were in high spirits on what was turning into a pleasant English summer’s… Continue reading →

I read Andy’s message from my spot beneath a tree. In my lap was the copy of The Adventure Cycle-Touring Handbook that I’d just put down – a book which explained, in detail, the practicalities of cycling round the world. I’d bought the book whilst browsing in a store that morning, not knowing it would become one of those twists of poetry that sometimes emerge from everyday life. As I sat under the tree, the future came into focus. Job applications had long been shelved. Shunning the temp-job circuit in favour of eking out a living as a freelance programmer in… Continue reading →

I never planned to be cycling alone through Sudan. But now that I am, I have plenty of time – too much, perhaps – to dwell on the complicated tale of adventure and romance that led me here. In fact, I’d never planned on being anywhere near Sudan, alone or otherwise. ‘I would rather not bike in Africa at the moment,’ I’d replied in a typically hard-headed email to my good friends Mark and Andy. ‘There’s a lot of screwed-up stuff happening there, and there are places in the world that I’d rather see.’ No – the dream that brought us… Continue reading →

I peer out through my mangled sunglasses. I dropped them long ago – in the Alps, I think it was – and ran over them before I noticed. Still, they do their job. As mile after indistinguishable mile goes past, palpable waves of heat pass through me. The brown tint of the glasses makes the place feel even hotter. A distant whir invades the trance. I pull over to watch the passing of my first vehicle in Sudan, when it’s still just a shape in the north. The shape grows quickly, and then in a spectacular explosion of dust and… Continue reading →

The Sahara doesn’t really look like I’d pictured it. But then nowhere ever quite did. My bicycle rests against the milestone. A slope of crushed red rock drops from the roadside and slips into the sand. I pull a bottle of water from the rear pocket of one of my bags; take a swig. It’s hot enough for a bath. I replace the bottle. These dusty bags contain everything I need to survive the world’s largest desert. A thin sleeping-bag, a handful of tools, a change of clothes. I’ll soon run out of water and food. But just because this is the… Continue reading →

I went on a journey seeking answers. What I found instead were questions. Things I thought were black and white dissolved into grey. This was annoying: the world was easier to understand before I’d experienced its realities. I’d chosen to ride a bicycle because it would bring life back to basics and allow for unmatched independence. There was no other reason, least of all an interest in cycling itself. Combined with the tools and skills of outdoor living, it had seemed that bicycle travel could hardly be bettered as a means of simple, spontaneous and open-ended exploration. Satisfying basic needs… Continue reading →