13th March, 2025
Exactly one year ago I arrived at Cape Point, the end of a rocky peninsula just south of Cape Town where the road runs out and the Indian and Atlantic Oceans meet. This drew a line marking the end of a journey that is without a doubt the most awesome and life-changing thing I have ever done, and likely will ever do again.
199 days earlier I had left London on a bike that I had barely owned a week, with no idea what I was doing, and entirely unprepared for what the next 7 months would have in store. And yet somehow, 17,000km of pedalling later, there I was, under the backdrop of Table Mountain, finally allowing myself to acknowledge the reality that I had actually made it all the way to South Africa. There had been moments when I thought I might not make it back home at all, let alone to Cape Town. Until that last week I had never allowed myself to consider the idea of actually finishing the dream, because the unfathomable scale of just how much was still ahead would be so overwhelming.
Even thinking about that moment now makes me tingle slightly, bringing back the overwhelming mixture of emotions that that day encompassed. Relief, excitement, joy, but also fear of the uncertainty of what to come and the knowledge that the simple existence I had become used to and accepted as what life looked like was about to change.
The realisation that it was all over brought elation and relief, but also sadness and emptiness. It was never about the destination, it was about the journey. What I came for had already happened. I didn’t feel any sense of a huge climax or achievement of reaching this arbitrary finish line, as I quietly rolled down to the shoreline on my bike, lost in my own thoughts.
It’s been quite the year since then. One week after I landed back in the UK I was in an air-conditioned office starting my first ever job in a new city. While my wild beard and hair may have been trimmed down to a corporately-acceptable style, mentally and emotionally I was far from ready to spend my day sat on a chair staring at a screen.
As you can probably imagine, there’s been a lot to process.
The night before I started my job, I was sat alone in a pub, anxious about what was about to happen and what I was leaving behind. I wrote down some rambling thoughts, an extract of which I’ve left here as a small window into what that moment of complete change looked like.
Even a year on, I don’t know if I’ve fully adjusted to what life now looks like, and I’ve definitely not processed everything that happened on that long lonely journey.
For many months I’ve been meaning to write it all down. Everything that happened.
April 1st, 2024
I was pretty nervous about coming back to the UK after all this time by myself away from everyone I know. But it’s actually been kind of good! – apart from the shite weather. I realise now how great my mental health and attitude had become over the course of 7 months on the road. Living in a space where every interaction is with someone you’ll never meet again is so liberating, and I chatting with strangers became far easier. Even if I’d sometimes make a fool of myself it’s literally just not deep at all. I learnt that by focusing on the silver linings and the small things that make me smile every day, even if I’m having a super tough time, I could refuse to be miserable and actually choose to feel good. Almost every day at some point I’d just think to myself, ‘wow, I actually can’t believe I’m out here cycling down Africa, this is so awesome’. I think that maybe all the crazy stuff I went through has just made me realise that being miserable is such a waste of time.
Being alive is literally so great.
While at the time I tried to keep some documentation of what was going on and all the amazing and crazy daily experiences, I found doing the whole ‘social media thing’ pretty overwhelming as a team of one without the luxury of just taking it slow. If you were following my page at the time, you might have noticed long periods where I didn’t post anything at all. When you’ve spent all day in the saddle riding down hot dusty roads, found food and somewhere to sleep, and done your best to get clean, the last thing you want to do is spend 2 hours editing videos and posting on Instagram. As a minimum I tried to keep a semblance of a diary as I went along, as something to go back to to jog my memories and avoid each day blurring into an indistinct mess.
Many people have asked me if I’m going to write a book about the adventure. I’ve thought about it, but books are scary. The idea of writing down such a huge undertaking, especially as someone who isn’t the most confident in my writing ability, feels unfeasibly overwhelming.
Blogs are still scary, but a bit less scary. I don’t have to worry about word counts, narrative arcs and complete coherence (let alone perfection). So here I am, giving it a go!
In a way I’m doing this for me, as a way to re-visit each day of my journey and process what happened from a distance in space and time, ultimately drawing a final line on this chapter of my life that still feels unresolved. I want to have a somewhat coherent record of this adventure that has undoubtedly shaped the person I am now in many ways, to come back to in decades and to come, and one day show my children and grandchildren. This feels like something too important to just let fade away into distant, intangible memories.
I’m also doing this to share the adventure in full with other people, and maybe even inspire someone to say yes to a dream they’ve always had and just go for it – One of the most rewarding moments that I had on social media was receiving a message from a stranger who had been following my journey and has since started their own adventure attempting to cycle from Morocco to South Africa (you should definitely follow him by the way: @roaminwithcronin).
Maybe you’re reading this because you’re a friend or family member, personally interested in what I got up to over those 7 months. Maybe you’re a keen cyclist or adventurer looking for some inspiration. Maybe you’re even currently cycling a similar route down West Africa and looking for specific details of the route and advice on where to go (and where to avoid). Regardless, I’m grateful you’re still reading this and I hope you enjoy!
The plan is to post roughly once a week – sometimes more, sometimes less. Some posts will be about a single day that left a big impact on me, while others might cover 2 or more weeks that were relatively uneventful. As well as tracking the story of the journey, there may be some posts that cover themes from across the adventure, be it football, omelette culture, or my Top 10 Africa Fanta flavours.
If you have any questions, suggestions, or want advice on anything, feel free to get in touch – I’d be more than happy to do my best to give some insight! I found asking questions to fellow bikepackers extremely helpful when I was a clueless beginner, and I would love to offer any help I can to anyone in that same position.
Day 1: London to Newhaven
Fresh faced and cleanly shaven, kitted up in my new lycra and learning on the job how to handle a 50kg bike without completely stacking it….
Listen to my podcast interview
I recently had the pleasure of being invited onto the Seek Travel Ride Podcast for a 2-part interview with the legend Bella Molloy.
Leave a Reply