Chile

It was a sinking feeling to wake from a sweet dream and realise that, yet again, I had to tear myself away from new friends and security, leave it all, and ride away. My stomach lurched and I screwed my eyes in prayer, or rather, gave a stern talking to myself, before getting out of bed. I loaded my bike and returned to the road after saying another heartfelt thanks to another kind family who had been incredibly generous and welcoming to me, and who I would never be able to repay. Three months into this South American ride, yet the moving on never became any easier.

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United States border control

“Sir, would you mind coming into the office, please?”

In his office he sat down at his computer on the other side of his desk with a grunt. He tapped at the keys for a few moments, scrutinising the screen in front of him and then asked: “Sir, could you please tell me why you have a visa for Iran in your passport?”

“Well, I thought it sounded like a nice place to bicycle through.”

Rattle, rattle, rattle on the keyboard. “And Sudan, sir? Lebanon? Syria? Pakistan? Colombia?” He didn’t seem convinced that they sounded like nice places to bicycle through. As he grumbled suspiciously I had a brainwave business idea: All those countries are incredible places with such a variety of history, culture, landscapes, food and wonderful inhabitants. There must be a market for ‘Axis-of-Evil Holidays plc’. I had the feeling that the customs guy would not be one of my first clients. He grunted at me a few more times and then handed back my passport. I was on my way

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Uzbekistan

At the day’s end I sat by the road. I had a stomach ache from eating too much watermelon, drinking irrigation canal water, 40°C riding and inadvertent sunburn, because the tree I had lain beneath at lunchtime turned out not to have been a 100 percent UV certified tree. Storks stared at me from their scruffy nests, their beaks clattering like castanets as I waited for darkness to fall. In the dusty sunset two young boys in flip-flops and baseball caps stood in their donkey carts and thrashed the poor animals down the road in a wild, excited race, whooping at me as they passed. I raised my watermelon rind in salute.