Monthly Archives: July 2017

Grandest of Adventures

I never even realised that I’d lost it. Not until now, when I’ve gotten it back.

I didn’t know I had forgotten. Though now I vividly remember. I remember what things were like in the early days of this journey. What it feels like when everything and everyone around you has the power to overthrow everything you thought you knew about life. What it’s like to have an experience take up your whole being. And what it’s like trying to not let it slip through your fingers.

It’s just as bizarre as it’s beautiful. Morning comes and I open my eyes, as for the first time of my life. It’s day, and time and time again I literally catch myself trying not to blink. I don’t want to risk missing anything. Not until night comes and I close them again. Grabbing onto the tent floor as if doing so somehow would stop my head (world) from spinning.

It’s all back. Every little piece of it.

I know I can’t make sense of any of it just yet, which is why I’m not even trying. And it’s alright really. At the moment all I need to do is to stay on my back in the flowing river that is this experience, trusting that the current will take me wherever I’m supposed to go.

Ghana has come to an end and I’ve made it into Cote d’Ivoire. The palm fringed seaside has been replaced by lush, thick greenery and the only way I know how to describe it is that every imaginable part of this place somehow seems a little more intense than in it’s neighbouring country. The ride is larger than life and the main reason for it is very clear.

People.

A few months ago I was climbing grand volcanoes and riding 5 000 meter mountain passes in search for adventure. Here – I find it by stopping in a village to buy a few bananas. Or even more – has it find me, by simply sitting down to eat them somewhere (anywhere!) along the road.

Alright, friends. I’ll throw in a few random snapshots. But for now I’m afraid this is it. For now, I need to go back to be absolutely present in what is one of the greatest experiences of my life.


Haha. I have no explanation for this one.

Oh. More than anywhere else I seem to be posting stuff on Instagram Stories these days. For some real time glimpses of life out here, make sure to give @thebikeramble a follow :-)

Until next time,

Fredrika

By |July 30th, 2017|Africa, Travel Logs|
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Ghana Good Times

It’s Sunday morning and I woke up to a brand new world today. I’m in Cote d’Ivoire – which I’m counting to be country no. 35 of this journey. The clock says it’s still early but the bustling streets of small town Aboisso came to life already hours ago. I think the sun was the last one to rise here today. I crossed into the country only yesterday afternoon and as per usual, I’m a little too excited to throw myself onto the road to start to get to know this new temporary home of mine.

First though – we need to talk about Ghana.

…

No. Let’s not.

See those 3 dots? They’re there to replace some 500 words I just deleted, realising that this is stupid. Not to mention it also being impossible – to try and squeeze everything from dancing children and the purest connections between people, to brutal faiths and fundamental human rights issues into a quick Sunday breakfast blog post.

More than anything – would it not give this country a grain of justice.

I didn’t even spend 2 full weeks in Ghana. Still this is one I regard as one of the very biggest experiences yet, on more levels than I was ever ready for.

Which is why this one goes out to you.

Not a single one of you will ever know that these words exist. Nor will I ever meet you again, to get the opportunity to tell you that they do. But thank you. I thank all of you. The hundreds of souls that let me into your world, for a chat, a meal, a night’s rest or for a simple wave and a smile as I swiftly zoomed passed you by the road you were sitting.

Thank you for your respect and for your patience. For your curiosity and laughters. And yes. Thank you Joshua, for sitting down to teach the sweaty obruni how to properly eat an orange.

Thank you all. For making a girl who’s still very far away from home – feel like she’s already there.

Until next time,

Fredrika

By |July 23rd, 2017|Africa, Travel Logs|
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Another Rich White Girl’s Blog Post

Hey.

Short stop in this time. Today marks one full week of breathing African air and my head is still spinning too fast for me to make much sense of any of what’s tumbling around in there. I’m used to a 15 kph movement of around 100 km per day – and the (barely existent) speed of change that comes with it. I’m used to moving from one village or town to the next.

Last week the screen in front of my airplane seat showed speeds hovering around 1000 kph and I found myself on three continents within 24 hours. Though that’s not what makes me feel like I’ve fallen into a tumble drier on steroids.

That is Africa.

I’m finally here. On this massive continent surrounded by more contradictions than any other. The one I’ve been told, not-at-all-told and warned about since before I could even spell it. One week in, mentioned contradictions seem endlessly bigger than they ever have before. And I can’t seem to wrap my head around a single piece what I’ve so far found waiting for me here. Though let’s talk about than another time.

The million impressions and future campfire anecdotes that have constituted the last week led me to Accra and the capital of Ghana. Showing up at the Togo-Ghana border without a visa was probably up there on the list of most-stupid-stunts I’ve pulled on this journey – and a gamble to say the least. Needless to say I’m surprised as anyone that it actually worked out. Just as needless to say is that I am equally grateful, happy and relieved that it did. Probably more than anything, since none of us now have to find out just how much of a catastrophe my Plan B actually was.

Writing this I’m on Day 3 of who knows who many, in the chaotic capital Accra. The one mission here is to acquire necessary visas for the onward journeying through West Africa. A mission that so far is moving along perfectly. The full page visa sticker for Ivory Coast is already in my passport and after the weekend the one for Guinea hopefully won’t be far off.

Meaning that this final and biggest adventure is just about ready to take off for real.

Just now I don’t have time nor energy to try and properly put the overwhelming feelings inside me to words. Though sitting under the cool A/C in the shiny upscale apartment of lovely French expat Lorraine it seems absurd not to. The evening of my arrival Lorraine took me for a burger and beer. We both agreed on that the meal was delicious. But didn’t mention the fact that it had cost almost half a Ghanian monthly salary.

Tapping on my laptop I’m now zipping cool pineapple juice and snacking away on imported Swiss chocolate. I’m looking down through the big windows, passed the guards on duty and across the barbed wire fence surrounding the building. A constant stream of people are passing by, balancing everything from fruit and peanuts for sale, to massive quantities of water or big bags of trash on their heads. I have no idea where any of them are going. I just know that it’s Saturday in Accra, and that normal people are spending it doing normal things.

Right here on this website you can still find the words of 22-year-old me. The girl with the big dreams, who was still back in her hometown merely getting ready to make this journey reality:

‘Brilliant sunshine and pouring rain. Lush rain forests and bone-dry deserts. Privileged people with the world beneath their feet and people who can’t even put a pair of shoes on theirs. This is a ride with the goal of experiencing it all.’

Three years later I’m more grateful than ever to not only have gotten to experience all of that – but also all those things way beyond my wildest imagination. The ignorance in my own words though, makes me absolutely sick to my stomach. It’s been long since I realised it, but never before has the fact been so disgustingly obvious.

That the ‘privileged person with the world beneath her feet’ – has been me all along.

There will be only one photo today, taken at 6.30 am somewhere in southern Ghana. One of 3 beautiful sisters walking to school in the neighbouring village.

I think that if you take the time to actually look at it – this one might be just enough.

Until next time,

Fredrika

By |July 16th, 2017|Africa, Travel Logs|
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(To)Go Time!

This is life my friends.

Usually I’m referring to life as feeling the wind in your hair while charging down the downhill you spent your day earning. Or to zip your tent open simply to let the world smack you in the face with another so-good-it’s-not-even-funny sunrise performance.

This is nothing like that. Still I’m feeling more alive than since I don’t even know when.

It’s Saturday. I don’t know what timezone would be appropriate to refer to, but it’s been long since I cared much about clocks anyways. I’m awkwardly posing as a rational human being today. Mirroring the people around me I’m zipping airport cappuccino while tapping away on my laptop. Apart from the fact that I (and the suit & briefcase-man sitting next to me) just caught myself blowing my nose in the sleeve of my shirt I think it’s working out alright.

I’m in Europe.

A few hours layover in Madrid marks my first breaths on my home continent in more than 2 years and I don’t think I’ve ever felt more out of place in my life. Not in a bad way. Neither in a good one. It is all just so incredibly weird. I’ve walked these very floors before. Still not. Today makes it very clear how I feel so endlessly disconnected from the person I was before this whole thing started. That girl who had seen – or more importantly felt – nothing.

Today though, this is no more than a passing thought. My whole being is occupied by something else entirely.

– I’m halfway to Togo. –

It’s happening. I’m Africa bound. What started as half a thought somewhere on a lazy day back in Mendoza is now materialising itself in reality. And I’m realising that my childish excitement didn’t necessarily need company by that double shot of caffeine. The onward flight ticket tucked into my passport seems incredibly overkill. The butterflies in my belly could easily have flown me to Africa themselves.

Today marks four continents down – one to go.

Can you believe it? I know I can’t.

As I still don’t know myself, I can’t exactly tell you what happens from here. The unknown factors are lined up like domino tiles and which one will fall first is as unclear as ever. At least getting to start Plan A would be neat though. Please keep your fingers crossed that I’ll be able to acquire a visa to Ghana in the next few days.

Or by all means, don’t.

Sometimes a little game of adventure domino is just what a girl needs.

After all. This is life my friends.

Until next time,

Fredrika

PS. Feeling so grateful to have you lovely people with me on this journey. It simply would’t be the same without you.

By |July 8th, 2017|Africa, Travel Logs|
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Wrapping Up

Ever since my first pedal strokes in Tierra del Fuego, Argentina – South America has been blowing my mind in ways I could never even have imagined. Every day, week and month seemed to give even a little more than the previous one and there has been absolutely no end to the madness.

Up until Lima.

In a parallell universe I’m still up in the high, high Andes. Slowly making my way between yet another couple of epic passes, ever so curious to find out what is to be found on the top of the next one – and then the next one again. In this universe though, I’ve had to finally accept what the calendar had already been telling me for quite some time.

‘So you still want to hug your mom for Christmas? Then you better get a move on.’

Racing up the coast from Lima to Ecuador had it’s perks. For the first time in a million years I actually made some proper distance and accompanied by a constant tailwind I literally felt like I was flying north. This was without doubt the least interesting/charming/impressive/varied/challenging stretch on my entire ride on the continent – but to be honest I didn’t mind.

For one I was happy to get to see some big numbers for once. And somehow my mind had made the switch turning this into nothing but mere transport. This was me on my way to the airport.

Though a route through the mountains would have beaten this a million times over, it wasn’t bad. There were some sweet views. And some ever sweeter people. I can’t remember a time when I’ve taken as few photos as during the few weeks between Lima and Quito. The ones I did take though – looked like this:


Morning routine!


Day in and day out…


I asked Isabel for water. She gave me a shower, bed and food until it came out of my ears :-)


No. 1 coastal highlight! Spending a few days riding with lovely Caio from Brazil

Days – even weeks – blurred together and all of a sudden my bike computer told me I’d ridden the equivalence of one entire lap around the equator. 40 000 kilometers. By all means a fair distance on a bicycle…



Today the race ended. My entire ride through South America did. I’m in Quito, Ecuador – and since only a few hours back I’m holding that flight ticket. The one that in less than a week will take me to Togo, West Africa.

Togo. West Africa.

I’ve been so ridiculously excited about this ever since the very idea first made its way into my mind back in Argentina. And I almost can’t believe it’s really time. Almost at least.

Mr. Bike is getting boxed up – soon. But first, this old body needs a proper game of eat, sleep, repeat. And since I’m all of a sudden surrounded perfume smelling people – I think a shower (or 10) might be an alright idea as well.


Apparently not the ‘capital look’ in Ecuador

Where in the world might the next blog post come from..? I sure don’t know. My layovers are as weird as they are many. Let’s hang on and we’ll all find out on Sunday :-)

Until next time,

Fredrika

By |July 2nd, 2017|South America, Travel Logs|
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