Monthly Archives: November 2016

Winds & Magic

‘Now, my girl. I must apologise. I have seven needles in my lower back, and am in quite some pain. I should probably lay down for a bit. I am sorry.

Please don’t worry though. Melaina is here. She has a heart of gold and she will take care of you. I know so, because she has been taking care of me for the last 15 years. Good night, my girl. I will see you one more time in the morning. Maybe. I do hope I will.’

I was speechless.

Looking down into the shiny eyes of the featherlight, wrinkly old lady standing in front of me, wrapped up in the maroon bathrobe that by the looks of it had been sown a few decades earlier, to someone two or three times her size.

The wooden floor was creaking though none of us where moving. The maid held her by the shoulders, keeping her steady. Before slowly being led though the long hall towards her bedroom, she reached out a skinny arm to touch my forehead, smiling vaguely while mumbling something about angels.

I watched her go. Speechless.

Less than an hour earlier I had been out on the road, hopelessly battling the winds whipping me back and fourth like an autumn leaf without a tree. Peddling, but getting nowhere. Watching the sun working it’s way towards the horizon, wondering where in the world I would be able to lay my head without having my tent ripped to shreds the very moment I pitched it.

All pampa. In every direction, and far as the eye could see.

And now I was here. Inside. In the old residence mansion at a mutton station in Tierra del Fuego, Argentina. One of the very few still operating, despite the overwhelming issues with packs of wild dogs sweeping the lands, killing off sheep like there was no tomorrow.

Too many times to count, I’ve had the exact thought loop though my mind without being able to answer it. This time though, it wasn’t based on myself. This time that very same thought was about Stefanie. The 80-something-year-old lady from Munich, Germany. With her impeccable British English, massive bathrobe and 7 needles in her back. And since a few minutes, also an unknown Swedish girl standing in her hallway.

Stefanie. How in the world did you end up here..?


Another unexpected home away from home

This was my second day on the road in Argentina. And just for the heck of it, let’s quickly rewind to the very first one.

On the 7th of November I left Ushuaia, taking my first actual pedal strokes on the 4th – and 2nd to last – continent this journey will take me to. I probably don’t need to tell you that I was excited. But I was. I was pumped out of my mind.

On the pretty ride just outside of town I found company in the form of two random Ushuaia chicos out and about of their bikes. Together we let the tailwinds push us up the hills while jokingly ‘discussing’ (it’ll be a while before my Spanish actaully allows me to do that) our nations’ superheroes Messi and Ibrahimovic.

Great fun, obviously. But rather than devoting my full attention to everything they where actaully saying, I tried to do everything in my power to fully enjoy those tailwinds. Knowing that they would be my last for quite a while.

From word of mouth (and blogs), I think very few bike tourers pass this region without hearing about that magical haven in the Tolhuin township some 100 km from Ushuaia. The bakery that not only makes the best empanadas in the region, but that also opens their backdoor to host any and every cyclist travelling through town.

As the evening, and my hunger, rolled in – so did I.

Simple, and simply amazing.

Shower and a roof. A bit of company. And perhaps a power outlet. This is my usual definition of ‘everything one could wish for’. At Panadería La Union however, they have walls. Legendary walls. Walls that kept me entertained for hours on end, and walls within which I later fell asleep – for the first time in a while, truly feeling like a part of something.


Inspiration if I’ve ever seen it… :)

Morning arrived and I couldn’t wait. From Tolhiun I was about to hit the wall of wind I knew was coming, but I couldn’t have cared less. There was only one thing in the world I wanted to do that morning. To ride my bike.

I did ride my bike that day. Through the winds, for eight hours. Geographically those hours didn’t take me very far. But on every other level, I found myself in a whole new world because of them.

I watched Stefanie as the slowly moved further and further away through the hallway. Her hunched back made her look even shorter than she already was. Everything about her physical being seemed fragile. Still she radiated that endless resilience that you only ever see in women who’ve lived long lives. Women with stories to tell.

We never did meet in the morning. Watching her take those last steps into her room was the last thing I ever saw of Stefanie. And I never got to hear a single one of her stories.

I did however, get to hear a few others. In the morning Stefanie’s husband showed up, taking up exactly where his wife had left off. Showing me everything I never would’ve known to ask about what life is like, running a farm at the end of the world.


Seems like the winds get to everyone

I caught myself with only half listening to how he explained how to properly cross-breed sheep for the best combined quality of meet and wool. Once again my mind was wandering, and the butterflies in my tummy could almost have lifted me from the ground.

I was back. Truly, truly back. To every little piece of as to why I’m out here to begin with.

We got back to the house, and to no one’s surprise Melania had cooked up another absolute storm. Stuffing me with omelettes and freshly baked tortillas straight from the oven top, before insisting on helping me pack my bike. Refusing to take no for an answer as she crammed fruit and lunch sandwiches into my panniers. I finally gave up and just smiled. Stefanie had known what she was talking about.

One kiss on the cheek, at that was it. Next moment I was back on the road. With winds if possible being even stronger than the day before. But also – if possible – with my joy for cycling towering anything that could ever, ever come in my way.

Until next time,

Fredrika

By |November 29th, 2016|South America, Travel Logs|
Read More

The End Of The World

Haha. This is the one photo I have from the 2 day trip that was my journey from one end of the world to another. New Zealand to Argentina. A journey of thousands and thousands of kilometers across the biggest ocean on Earth – and this is it. One grainy half ass out-a-window snap from a shaky phone. Far from pretty, though one that to me serves as the ultimate symbol of the insanity that travelling by these flying exhaust pipes is.

Without even mentioning the fact that this is the ultimate disservice one can do to the planet, this still has got to be one of the most unnatural and absurd activity a person can engage in? Admittedly I’m damaged by a year and a half of travelling with an average speed of 15 km/h, but that doesn’t change much. However comfortable, efficient and whatever else it is – we’re obviously not supposed to move like this.

Crossing the date line and touching ground in Buenos Aires hours before taking off from New Zealand definitely added to the feeling of completely loosing touch with time and space. But hey. I guess time travelling was simply next in line of the never ending ‘firsts’ I keep ticking off throughout this whole thing.

A 12 hour layover and a quick 3 000 km (I mean..?) domestic flight later I found myself on solid ground in Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world. The only reasonable starting point of the second half of this adventure. The one from which I am – and I can’t believe that I’m actually writing this – going home.

It’s a long way there. But oh yes – it’s actually happening.

The few days I spent in town was like one big deep breath. While dealing with jet lag and simultaneously trying to find my balance in my latino home to be for the upcoming year, my mind was once again getting ready to take on another brand new chapter. This time a massive one.

A couple of days wandering around town and winding down in the nearby national park of Tierra del Fuego was just what I needed. Getting familiar (and falling in love) with everything from dulce de leche to empanadas, and rapidly trying to dust off my old school Spanish by grabbing a hold of anyone patient enough to listen to yet another gringa’s not all that successful attempts of making herself understood.

All while doing my best to ignore the loud threats of those infamous Patagonian winds, sending chills down my spine way before I’d ever even hit the road.

New snow had fallen on the mountain tops when I opened my eyes that morning. I was excited. Loaded my bike. Snapped the mandatory photos with that cheesy, but still oh so enchanting ‘fin del mundo’ sign.

And then I took off.

¡Vamos!

Fredrika

By |November 23rd, 2016|South America, Travel Logs|
Read More

I Love You

It’s all about contrasts, isn’t it?

Last year I spent my birthday with my only company being the lactic acid in my legs, as I slowly headed up my very first mountain pass in rural China. After waking up to a -7C tent and a flat tyre, and before falling asleep in the only slightly warmer guesthouse bed that together with some overpriced (and under delivering) chocolates was my gift to my then 24-year-old self.

This year I spent it leaned back with a glass of wine and a t-shirt. And Mom.

Mamma.

My Mamma.

My sweet, loving mother who’d been brave enough to fly all across the globe to – if only for a little while – give the middle finger to that constantly growing geographical gap that had been keeping us apart for a good eternity or two. Touching ground at Queenstown airport, and giving me one of those near chokingly tight hugs exactly 365 days after that day of numb toes in China.

Contrasts.

Writing this I’m going to assume that you have a mom too. Perhaps even a daughter. And I’m going to assume that your imagination will do a way better job connecting to this feeling than my words could ever do.

As always everything is relative. But as far as this journey goes the 3 months I spent in New Zealand were all one long dreamy vacay. Surely one with all the elements that some thousands kilometers of cycling involves, but still. And that final week together with Mom. That was the crescendo of a lifetime.

And I think she was quite happy to see me too :-)

I’ll spare you with the details about us going full on tourist, exploring the southern parts of New Zealand’s south island together. Holding hands, bugging each other in true mother-daughter fashion, and then always ending up holding hands again. One thing that needs to be in the records though, is that after too many fruitless attempts we did manage to find this little guy!


Are people still playing Pokémon Go?

One week. One where as always, time was not enough. But oh, am I grateful for each moment of it. Because as though things inevitably come to their end, memories do last an eternity.

Tack för allt Mamma. Vi ses hemma. Jag älskar dig!

As every climb is rewarded with a descent, every high is eventually followed by a low. Having Mom disappear just as quickly as she came would no doubt have meant a big one, if it wasn’t for 2 very special people that I could never finish off this post without mentioning.

Gordie & Katrin. You mad human beings! If you only knew how glad I am to have gotten to stumble into your life, house and playground of a world. Thank you for every little (and big!) part of it.

We’re all different. And to me, these people are the ultimate form of inspiration. Two loving, playful spirits committed to making it all count. To making each day a good one. Including the ones where one’s mom heads off back to the other side of the world. Thank you is nowhere near enough for all that you’ve done for me, but I still want to say it one more time.

(And yes, yes, yes Katrin. Let’s play in Norway next time!)

Then at last – just as I started to find my balance on the SUP – came that very last sunset. And the following day I too boarded my flight. Closing a chapter of this journey that I have no intention of ever really letting go of.

It was that time of the year again.

Watch out South America. Here I come!

Until next time,

Fredrika Ek

By |November 15th, 2016|Oceania, Travel Logs|
Read More