My First Time

A few dull days have been spent in the Caribbean so far, and some good parties as well. But not much inspiration or stimulation going on right now. It's island time man!

I'm off tomorrow to spend just over a week in that place called Venezuela, that place I used to call home and that place that I have to figure out what should I call nowadays.

In the meantime, check this out . If you click at viewing the digital version of the January version of Dockwalk, you can see on the cover the title "Surviving a Genoa Winter Yard Period". It's my first article published in a magazine... yeeyyyyy!!! Can I say I'm a professional Journalist now?

Low riders!

Scary

Full Moon Magic

It’s hard to put emotions into words about this crossing of the Atlantic.

I would like to be able to look back at each day and explain my sensations and sentiments thru these whole 14 days so far without it actually being a tale of the sailing and weather conditions. But i realize that when you’re at sea, your feelings have to do a lot with what the ocean is looking like and where the winds are coming from.

As always, I guess it had to do a lot with expectations.

We left Tenerife believing we were on for a nice downwind sail of no more than 12 days to the Caribbean, only for the lack of wind to slow our progress in the first 30 hours. A few days later we were in the middle of a low pressure system trying to beat into 30 knots winds which gusted up to 42 thinking we would get more favourable wind after that, and a couple of days later, lacking of wind themselves, we found ourselves trying to sail as high as possible in the middle of a big polar system which brought squalls with heavy rain, and I do mean heavy, and winds that gusted to 61 knots pushing the boat as fast as 27 knots... but more on that later.

So expectations, I guess, haven’t been met in many ways.

We’re quite a varied crew and I think coming from different sailing backgrounds we had different ideas of what this crossing would be like and what we were looking for with it.

Me, being permanent crew, I guess this have been a big learning project most importantly. Preparation of the boat has been quite interesting. We were full on preparing the different aspects of the boat for the last 4 weeks and when the time came and I just stopped to think about it, I guess I was just excited by the idea of crossing the Atlantic only by sail.

There are 6 german guys on board who came with the idea of more of a sailing holiday on board a fast performance cruising yacht and having extensive racing sailing experience I think the performance haven’t quite met their expectations. So we have found ourselves crashing against each other when it comes to sailing strategies and principles, creating frustration in both sides and sometimes long faces.

And I explain all this because being on a boat with other 11 people for over 14 days, you’ll eventually, if not permanently, found yourself influenced by the general mood on board.

The first few days, as it happens usually, were characterized by good spirits and lack of winds, meaning searching for winds. We were settling into the routine of the ocean crossing and getting to meet the guys on watch was good fun. We were being given meteorological advice by Bruce Bukley from Western Australia who with daily mails would point out behaviour in the weather patterns surrounding the boat and give us a few directions on where we should be heading to depending on wind forecasts. Usually he would give us a set of coordinates, latitude and longitude, which we nicknamed Buckley’s Waypoint and a few of the good times of the first few days circled around the search of this utopia of a place where aft seas rolled, constant favourable winds blew, and that untiringly we followed but quite never reached... And I still hold is a sick name for a sailors bar.

Eventually we found some winds which we had some good runs with but they didn’t last that long, so we were advice to take a more northerly course heading into the centre of a depression which would bring a strong cold front with winds of up to 50 knots but after which we would found strong winds from good angle which would allow us to head to Saint Marteen with decent speeds.

We head north, but I was a bit apprehensive about it. Ever since I started working on these boats, that sort of polar low pressure system in the middle of an ocean, is the kind of thing you just avoid at all costs. When 50 knots are forecasted, I’ve learned, you humbly put your head down and try to get the less of it. Is when you try go against these strong forces of winds and seas that the boat really starts suffering and slowly gives signs of wear and tiredness. Getting yourself into that sort of weather shows lack of respect to the ocean surrounding you and little seamanship.

By the time the cold front hit, we had been beating for 24 hours already and we found ourselves sailing in heavy squalls. One of them made sure it would be remembered for a while and from the bunk below decks, I felt the boat being over powered by the sudden gust, speeding up with the raising confusion of the guys on watch. I could hear sheets being eased, hydraulic pump furling the Genoa in, the boat quickly righting up and that dammed eyrie silence. I remembered saying out loud “Oh noo!!” before listening to the violent scream of the main tracker and sheet going from on side to the other as the boom had accidentally been jibed. A few seconds later, on deck, we found a wondering crew, the main sheet tangle around the winch, the boom against the rigging and the helmsman unable to see a thing in between the confusion, the wind and the heavy rain this squall had surprised us with. The boat had been hurt, seriously, and if it wasn’t by a great blow of good luck, it could’ve been a lot worst.

Sailing resumed and after the low pressure system passed we found the promised good weather conditions but not for too long, as unstable weather system developed quickly and the outlook was to stay becalmed for a couple of days before the arrival of a second low pressure system with head winds for another 48 hours.

At this point we had been sailing for over a week, hadn’t yet reached the half way point and the forecast was nothing but miserable.

Frustrated and tired, part of the crew started talking of turning the engine on as deadline for their respective jobs was approaching and we needed to get going if we wanted to make it on time for some of their appointments back home. So after a full day of frustrating light and fickle winds, we started motoring quitting at the same time the regatta.

At the same time work was appointed to get the boat ready for the arrival of strong head winds once more and after about 30 hours of noisy going, the big Cummins boy was switched off and the banging started.

By Midday we had over 30 knots South Westerlies with us and after taking a coupld of reefs on the main and breaking the Staysail head latching, we had to rely on our reefed Genoa as our only headsail.

A couple of hour later, right in the heart of the Cold front where 40 knots of winds were expected, we were reached by the first squall of many and after some hesitation about whether or not to furl in the Genoa, we could see this dark and grey thing approaching. Luckily we did it, only with the main, we saw the wind indicator rapidly jumping to 30, 40... 47 knots... 52 knots... eassseee that main easeeeee, go down go down go down! The first scared had gone, and we were up for a few more. Squall after squall we apprehensively stood up there, main sheet on hand waiting for the arrival of these monsters of uncertainty. You never know what the next squall would bring and you can only prevent and hope.

“There’s another one on starboard about 2 miles Fabio, should we roll in the Genoa”

“...uhmm.. noooo, I don’t think so, we need some sail to get the boat going so it’s more controllable”

“I think we should though, there were 52 k’s on that first one and this looks nasty”

“... I don’t know really, don’t like staying with only that small amount of main”

“come Fabio let’s do it, look at that dark grey bastard”

“... well yes, do it, furl it in”

The light goes into surrealistic mode. It gets dark but it’s quite clear as well. Water has no shine to it, is solid but yet with quite a greenish turquoise colour. The noise is deafening and Fabio bares away, I ease more main sheet hoping the boom doesn’t get in the water one more time and that the damage main sheet block holds just a few more minutes. 54... 57... Sea goes flat and so does the rain. For a moment we are in a longitudinal dimension, everything seems to be moving in the same direction. The boat seems like it’s being sank from the clouds and the building mass of moving air. But is not. It’s being lifted by the moving water underneath it, we’re moving with this thing... we are like part of this squall at this moment.

“look at the boat speed, we’re doing 23 knots”

58... 54 knots... It’s building again, 58... 61 knots there... Holding to that main sheet it feels like I’m holding the whole boat together, fearfully hoping nothing breaks down in this particular moment, hoping it will finish soon and wondering if this is the worst of it.

Apprehension grows as the afternoon passes by and looking at spending the night with two reefs on the main doesn’t seems so safe, so worriedly I lay in bed, listening to the howling winds outside, watching the wind meter raising to high 50’s a few more times and hearing sheets being eased and water moving very fast pass the boat. I go out, we need to take that third reef or even the full main down, we can’t spend the night with this much sail. We tried, but with winds are above 35’s so we step back, we sit and wait. Come down and talk about it, we really need to do it. Wind is down to 30, lets go lets do it... and just before the sun goes down, we prepare ourselves, all hands on deck and we go for it, all down, no more main or boom to worry about and we celebrate in relief. The night ahead seems a lot less darker with only the Genoa with 2 reefs out... it should all go downhill from here.

Message from Inmarsat-C Mobile

TO:alfonsoochoa311.goforaride@blogger.com
The Bloody 25's
The bloody 25's
There's a big stretch of Ocean in the Southern Hemisphere called the Southern Ocean. It's usually talked within sailors as it's the route most of the around the world races take place, and are these water where many boats, men and dreams have been broken.
Sailors usually coming from the North Atlantic round Cape of Good Hope in South Africa and go Eastwards using the predominant westerly winds of these latitudes and then go past Cape Leeuwin in Autralia and Cape Horn in Chile before going upwards back to Europe usually. In the Southern Ocean, they sail over ten thousand miles in the belt between the 40th and the 60th parallels, commonly known in sailing literature as the Roaring Forties, the Furious Fifties and the Screaming Sixties.
We're now on 22 degrees North and yesterday in 25 degrees of latitude experienced some wind conditions most of us will remember and talk about it for a long time.
Sure it was not the Roaring forties and there was not much Screaming, but those Bloody 25 degrees had some fury on it. There's not many people who wouldn't call 61 knots horrible, and it was quite a thing.

Message from Inmarsat-C Mobile

TO:alfonsoochoa311.goforaride@blogger.com
The unstable Atlantic
Today it's been 9 days since we left Tenerife and we've seen all sort of conditions.
Dead calms and flat seas just after our departure, nice moderate running and head winds which we made good progress with, strong gale force winds up to 42 knots and very choppy seas, lots of squalls sometimes friendly ones that give us nice breeze where the wind is too light and somtimes unpredictable ones with mean sudden changes of wind strenght and direction that have made their mark on the boat.
I guess this is just the Atlantic.
A few years ago when reading about surfing, I read this phrase about the unstable Atlantic and ever since I started sailing I wondered and somehow feared crossing this piece of ocean. But I always thought it would be the other way around that would be hard. The crossing from Europe to the Caribbean it's meant to be dominated by the consistant and helping tradewinds which haven't settled yet this year so far, and thus making us go out of our way into higher latitudes in search for winds.
Now we're back into an area of calm variable winds and expecting the arrival of another cold front with more head winds.
Some of the crew need to go back home to work, and after a day of very little progress, a bit of frustration and some deliberation we've turned on the engine and trying to make the best progress towards Sain Marteen so some of the guys can make it to their respective commitments on time.
Dissapointed not to complete the crossing by sail, but that's life sometimes and I guess that's the Atlantic, big, deep and very unpredicatable.

Message from Inmarsat-C Mobile

TO:alfonsoochoa311.goforaride@blogger.com
Searching the winds
It's almost four days now at sea and quite busy ones. We've had winds since we left the shelter of the Canaries and making good progress along with the other boats.
We had a good kite run on the second and third day with speeds constantly over 15 knots and maximums of 18's. After that we've been experiencing some windshifts due to a cold front that passed yesterday afternoon with some gusts up to 32 knots in the squalls.
That was the first of the two cold fronts we were expecting for these days, with the second one arriving tomorrow early morning and with winds expecting to reach above 40 knots and maybe more right when the front hits us. After that we'll have a day or two with winds up to 25 knots after which we are supposed to head towards Saint Marteen.
A bit of anxiety with the expectative of strong winds tomorrow morning. Enjoying some good sleep in the last day, but my mind is constantly circling around what will it be like and for how long those winds will last. It's been since the Fiji - New Zealand passage 3 years ago that I haven't been in serious seas and although I don't want to be there, and I will question why I do this, why am I here and who made me do this? I'm quite looking forward to it, in a masochist sort of way I know... But either we keep south and get light winds or we beat through it north bound for a while and enjoy the stronger favourable winds later on. So north we go...

Buckley's Waypoint

Down in Austrlalia, there’s cyber character who can see the wind from all around. He can tell the highs from the lows and to predict their movement thru oceans and clouds he knows. Along and across parallels he guides us through them all. He points us in the right direction and in him we trust.

SW of Tenerife, some say 100 miles of its southern tip, lays Buckley’s Waypoint. A mythical place of constant winds and higher speeds. A part of the world where boats stop swaying and rocking and they push thru the water in the search of warmer latitudes. Waters of abundant fishing where mermaids swim by blinking their eyes and octopuses come afloat and invite you play in their gardens, in the coral that lies beneath the waves...

We’re all heading to Buckley’s Waypoint, the route is long and is not clear how to get there, and something tells us that no matter how hard we try, it will always move somewhere further and brighter. We can only head our bows towards this utopia of a place, we can trim our sails and ask the older and the wiser if they have found it and how we can reach it. But something tells us, it will always keep moving... and so should we!

Faster than the Wind!

It’s really remarkable when you think about these sailing boat nowadays and the fact that they can actually sail faster than the true wind.

The thing is, that when you move at a certain speed, you actually create wind (in the opposite direction of where you’re going to) and that happens all the time, not only on a sailing boat. That’s the reason why on a bicycle you usually feel the wind coming from the front, even when you turn around and go in the opposite direction. It’s called the apparent wind, and is not more than the actual wind you’re feeling when you are moving. If the wind is coming from side at, let’s say, 20 kph and you’re riding at 20 kph, you’ll find an apparent wind of around 28 kph from 45 degrees in front of you... and when you turn around, you’re going to feel that same wind but from 45 degrees on the other side.

Anyway sorry for that engineering distraction, I guess sometimes it just wants to pop out. The same happens on a boat. But contrary than on a bike where the friction with the air is the strongest force stopping you along with gravity, on a sailing boat you’re being powered by that wind. And when you move and “create” some more apparent, you’re actually sailing with a stronger breeze than the true wind and thus you can sail faster than the wind. So simple, but yet so fascinating to understand it and to experience it.

Light winds since the start and apart from a good couple of hours with the kite, it’s all been a struggle to keep the boat moving and in the right direction... seems like we have a long race in front of us!

Searching the Wind!

Tomorrow we set off from Tenerife heading to Saint Marteen. The preaparation has been fun and now we're ready and all we can do is hope for some wind to keep us moving for the first few days before we hopefully reach the tradewinds.

We're twelve on board after the arrival of 6 delivery crew all from Germany. Good guys all of them and from the talk quite good sailors as well so should be a good fun bunch to sail with. Really looking forward to the experience.

The usual crossing in this superyachts I work for is carachterized by the fact that when the boat is sailing at anything less than 8 knots, you just turn the engine on and keep moving... so interesting to go across the Atlantic powered only by wind, like the goo all days, like Columbus did.

Not very Columbus though is this little piece of cyber gear I will show you where you can track our position as we sail along in real time.

Will do my best to keep posting....

The 2 week post...

(I started writing this like 2 weeks ago while sailing form Palma)

I usually sit down here with an idea of what I want to write you know. But that’s not the case right now... so consider this as a jamming writing session.

It goes with inspiration I could say. I’ve been wanting to write as consistently as possible, sort of create a habit out of it but sometimes there’s just not much to say. I’m non-stop wondering about everything, all the time. And when it clicks, ideas come together and feel the need to sit and write things down. It’s pretty cool to feel that way about writing, I hope I could do it more often.

When I was in Australia I worked about 8 months in this construction site as a labourer building these massive and quite ungraceful Greek guy’s house. It was very tiring, physically demanding and mentally numbing, in a way though. It used to pay the bills, but what I loved the most about that job was, apart from riding to and back from work everyday in my very old bicycle, that it allowed all the time in the world to think. I went to Australia because I wanted to have time, period. I didn’t want to look back and say I didn’t do this or that because I didn’t have time. Instead I looked for it (time I mean), and so having time to surf, party, wander, and even time to think, was fully accomplishing the purpose of my Aussie experience.

One day while shovelling some sand into the cement mixer to lay some bricks, I realized I was having a recurrent thought, and worried that I was actually wasting my thinking time, thinking different things more than once. And that’s when I first thought I had to start writing things down or keeping some sort of record.

The first try came in New Zealand over 2 years after that day, and it didn’t last long. I bought a pretty book I still carry around with me all the time and excited wrote daily notes before going to bed every night. I can still remember writing my first note sitting in the airport leaving NZ after 10 months.

Daily notes became ever more infrequent and I gave up knowing that a diary was not for me.

Then I got a few Moleskines with the intention of making notes every now and then and at some point sit down and put articles together about my different trips. It started last year when I was in the States between Florida, Colorado and the Intracoastal Water Way between Houston and New Orleans. I have to say that didn’t go that bad and writing made me good company in the lonely nights of the Bayou in Louisiana, but when I found myself in the boredom of the jobless (and money less) life in Miami, inspiration didn’t showed up for a while and my second attempt of a travel log was soon abandoned as well.

And then is this blog I’ve been keeping for almost a year now and I have to say I’m quite proud of it so far. Consistency hasn’t been its most remarkable characteristic but I’m happy with what I’ve been posting most of the time. I guess it’s not a case of me being a better or a more committed writer, but actually my life being somehow more dynamic than in recent years.

Sailing has been the priority these past two months. It’s been good fun to actually been in a boat that we have to dedicate most of our efforts into making of it a better, faster and safer sailing boat. From Tunisia we left to Palma and apart from good weather and a few hours of fun sailing, fishing was the highlight of this delivery. In the one day we decided to throw fishing lines out, we quickly got ourselves a good catch, a 12 kg Tuna. Happy we were with the prospect of some raw fish for lunch when we got called by another strike. This time a beast which actually was too kind to let ourselves catch him. The most beautiful fish I’ve caught, 30 kg it weighted and as I write this today, almost a month since that day, “the cook” is actually preparing one more piece of it to feed the grateful crew for that one fine day of fishing.

Arriving to Palma was exciting, as I had a full bunch of friends I was looking forward to see again and our time there didn’t disappoint. Nana was a superstar as always, and catching up with her along with epic Pitiou was Palma highlight. These are the guys that I sailed from Fiji to New Zealand with. 4 full days of howling winds and BIG crossed seas and one a half day of total calm, this delivery is one that I don’t talk much about, too difficult to explain or just really not worth it. This is something I can only share with these two people, and hearing sea gipsy Pitiou saying that was the most horrible seas he’s ever encounter, made me... actually, I just realized it does make me feel happy that most probably, I won’t find those conditions that too often.

A beautiful 5 and half days at sea brought us to Tenerife, and apart from passing Gibraltar with a PBO-furled Genaker in the water, it all when smooth as. We also got a nice mahi mahi to comply with cook’s request to get something other than tuna, and the day before arriving we heard through the VHF of this big depression forming in the north Atlantic next to Greenland which would create mayhem all along Europe coast... and mayhem up there, can only mean waves down here. So excited with the prospect of a few waves, I felt at peace of being back in the ocean. I got ready and by Wednesday evening I was surfing some fine waves feeling a bit out of rhythm. Wednesday morning I found a fun left with a friendly few in the water and on Monday morning, I fell back in love with surfing.

I have to finish this now... is getting too long, don't even know where I'm going with all this. Will keep posting more this week hopefully....

A bitter bit of politics!

As some of you might know, 3 weeks ago the legislative elections were held in Venezuela, in which the opposition parties, united as the Democratic Unity Table, got the majority of the votes with a 52 %, thus neglecting Chávez’s United Venezuelan Socialist Party (PSUV) the ‘supermajority’ (more than two thirds of the seats of the Congress) that allowed it to pass major legislation submitted by Chávez without serious debate or dissent.

Anyway, I’m not going to get myself involved in a political dissertation on Venezuelan political situation relating it to the 11 years, I think, Chavez has been in power. But being a Venezuelan outside my country I’m used to getting a lot of recognition from random people who hearing my country of origin, go straight into saluting, shaking hands, smiling and proudly saying Hugo Chavez!!!... and I’m not getting into details there either.

The last one of those, I met while eating my nightly ice cream walking around Port Yasmine here in Hammamet. We bumped into this street kiosk which I don’t even know what they were selling really (probably those fake tattoos), but as a pet, they had this funny looking ‘dog’ with more ears than actual dog (reason being it was not a dog but a Desert’s Fox). Anyway, random guy with funny hair approaches me right hand first, big smile and deep, serious looking eyes searching for acceptance from this Socialist Brother... while I’m thinking “oh here it comes...”

“HU-GO Chavezzzzz!!!”

And after a few negatives from my side, this disappointed street revolutionary replied “...you know nothing about politics”. I won’t give any details on my feelings here either, but I can tell you this intellectual street-fake-tattoo artist carried on with my friend and after hearing he came from Venice, excited and proud he delighted us with his story of how he had made 18 grand selling cocaine while living Padova when Italy won the World Cup... No comments needed!

So it could actually be I know nothing about politics, no problem. But I know this.

What you see in the picture is a sign installed outside the Venezuelan Congress, in downtown Caracas. There you have a picture of Chavez with the biggest of his charismatic smiles, head bent down a little to the right in a sign of his humble greatness, arms open and saying “Bienvenidos diputados de la oposicion” “Welcome deputies from the opposition”... “Ayudenos a construir el pais del que los vamos a correr” “Help us building up the country, of which we’re going to kick you out”

Personally, I wouldn’t mind a bit of humour from politicians nowadays although I aknowledge the mission in front of them has nothing of comical. A bit of a cheeky comment here and some good old sarcasm over there just to remind us that they want, at some point, have fun like any normal person.

But this sign is one more display of the disrespect, the abuse and the disregard the Venezuelan people have to live with everyday. An insolent show of Chavez's disdain and the classist content of his speech with which he’s creating a bipolar society in Venezuela

I don’t want to change anyone’s political views or convince you of this or that, I just want to share what’s happening in Venezuela... And hopefully I’ll bump into less of those... well, upsetting episodes when I say I’m Venezuela, and enjoy my ice cream.

Rowley would GO...

One of the stories that's been sowing up in my FB page for the last couple of months is Jeff Rowley's Charge for Charity.

I met Rowley in G-Land, in the Souteastern tip of Java, Indonesia. A meaningful name for any surfer, we saw G'land pumping for a good couple of days.

They say there's only once chance to make a good impression, and my first sight of this lanky goofy looking Victorian was watching him piggy dogging and fighting his way out of a 6 ft freight training pit at Money Trees... "He rips" I thought.

We surfed a few times during that week, including one solid 6 ft session at Speedies in which with their loud and pushing "Go Fonzie GOOOO!" Jeff and Boogs made me paddle into some of the best waves of my life for sure.

Nowadays Rowley is still charging big waves, and fighting a big cause with it. He's commited himself in catching a 20 ft wave (hawaiian meassure) before the end of February 2011, he's trying to get himslef voted into The Quiksilver in Memory of Eddie Aikau competition in Waimea, Hawaii, and he's fundraising for the Keep-A-Breast Foundation

You can check an introductory video on his website or you can check it out here (well internet is not cooperating in Tunisia right now so you can check it out in his website) and you can visit his firstgiving site and sponsor his good cause here

He's been surfing, he's been training, he's been swiming, and doing a great bloody job with all his fundraising. A great effort mate!

The wheel...

"When man invented the bicycle he reached the peak of his attainments. Here was a machine of precision and balance for the convenience of man. And (unlike subsequent inventions for man's convenience) the more he used it, the fitter his body became. Here, for once, was a product of man's brain that was entirely beneficial to those who used it, and of no harm or irritation to others. Progress should have stopped when man invented the bicycle". Elizabeth West, Hovel in the Hills


I've been in Hammamet, Tunisia, for almost 3 weeks now. At first I was excited about the idea of spending a month or so in an Arabic country thinking it would provide enough stimulation for writing and getting myself into a travelling spirit, again.
A few km outside of Hammamet, Port Yasmine area turned out to be quite a dull place.
A randomly series of arabic-themed hotels, resorts, shops, and horse-powered cars, it gives the sensation of being in one low budget American film about the Griswolds family on holidays, The Groundhog Holiday I would call it, all very cheesy, very cliché, very soul less. I was about to say that it feels like there was no planning or a vision on what they wanted to create of this place, but it actually seems like this is what they were after. All these constructions seems pretty evenly built with a tad of bad taste, a few cupfuls of lack of personality and given one good mixed into one soul less American-wannabe Arabic salad!
It has, instead, given me a fair bit of time to check the web and make something useful out of it. So I've been trying to look for interesting reads, websites about interesting bicycling or charity projects, and a few arty, cycling or culinary blogs. I've also been trying to use these cyber social networks to my advantage. Those which seem like dangerous ways to waste your time and to get your girlfriend to find out things she doesn't necessarily needs to know, can be quite a useful tool in spreading the word around about important projects, information, advertising and promoting events, and also a good provider of healthy entertaining... if you’re willing to look for such. It’s all there, you just need to wonder and have a look
I’ve also been thinking about my blog and what I should be posting these days when fiddling around on the boat takes the most of my time and life off the boat consists on taking the 5 minute walk to the gelateria after dinner. I realized is hopeless trying to find interesting things to say when nothing really interesting is happening here. But there’s plenty of things going on out there worth having a look, entertain yourself for a while and share it with friends and others. So I thought of sharing some here every now and then...
Last month as some of you might know, I rode across the UK along with other 23 cyclist in what was called the Slow Food, Fast Ride... We were lucky enough to have Tom on the team as the designated chef. Apart from a few good meals, Tom’s an interesting character and worth having a chat or two. He rode from NY to Rio a few years ago in the search for the perfect meal and wrote a book about his trip called The Hungry Cyclist. You can check his website here.
From Tom’s FB last week I read about the Copenhagen Wheel Project. Which is, as you can see in the website, a pretty cool thing. They’re basically “transforming your ordinary bicycle into a hybrid e-bike that also provides feedback on pollution, traffic congestion and road condition in real time”. Checking out the video on their site, I couldn’t help but wonder on all this technology and specially the iPhones.
A year ago I saw an Iphone listening to a music on the TV, searching for the album in the internet and buying the album from Itunes store. Just like that, 10 minutes. Although from that day I’ve seen many other awesome tricks by the little black thingy, that day Impressed, and scared! I started joking about the little tool which (or maybe I should referring to it as a WHO) in a few years would threaten human kind. Admire the machine, but I want to think that this dependency a lot of people are developing around these Smart phones today can be quite mistuning for man and its reality.
I had a look at the Copenhagen Wheel Project last week and kept thinking about it for a while. I’m left speechless almost on a daily basis with stories and news about humans just doing what they are suppose to do I guess, progressing. I admire this type of forward thinking and I’m thankful of these pioneers who have taken us where we are today. But sometimes I think is just too much. Watching the video today and the little iPod connected to the bike I just felt overwhelmed. Is that really necessary? I thought. Would a perfect invention like the bicycle, ever need an iPod connected to it? I don’t think so. Maybe, as the quote as the beginning says, “progress should’ve stopped when man invented the bike” .

The Bogey Woogey!

We've been daydreaming about cycling since we finished JOGLE 2010 at Land's End almost a month ago. And I say we, because it's been a constant emailing back and forth with the rest of the boys talking about future projects, riding the pyrenees, what rides we've been up to, etc. It's fun everytime I get an email with the subject Re: DREAM TEAM and I rush to check it out to see what they are up to.

I've left my bike at my sister's place in the UK and I've been focusing on this new boat I'll be sailing for the next few months and going out running almost everyday. Feels good having a rest from that much cycling I did last year, but I still think of it so much. Every day, every minute I think of cycling, so getting news from others who are sharing thoughts somehow feels quite comforting.

James put together this video with a few clips and pictures of the ride across the UK. Check it out, it's quite vintage... pretty cool!

http://www.jamesbowthorpe.com/?p=323

The Apple Crumble

A couple of days in Dartmouth, in the South Hams (from the old English word “Hamme” meaning an enclosed or sheltered place FYI) and back to London where I crashed against the planning of organized world.
When taking the train in the fun and eclectic town of Totnes, I sat there contemplating the idea of going to, who knows, Southampton maybe. But attracted by the idea of meeting some familiar faces in the big city, I thought it would be cool to spend a couple of days wandering around the busy, ever-clicking machinery of London streets and in the mean time have a few laugh with old time and newly made friends.
When the train was getting to Reading station, I realized how close I was of my sister’s and a few days with the incomparable and warm company of the most familiar of all faces. But decided to keep going with shameful guilt of softening down and not being truth to my hardcore travelling spirit I believed I had going on. But right then I realized I was somehow tired and didn’t need that travelling eager anymore. At London, truth to my disorganized and keen-on-improvisation nature , I called a few people only to find out everyone had plans and were organized for the evening and next day. A glance of the London lifestyle, and after the prospect of mixing in the London crowd purposelessly, I decided to head back to the always welcoming Park House in Abingdon, where Gaby and Joe were almost drowning in an apple flood.
Moved by a naive thrust of eco friendliness, I set myself into not wasting oh so many apples and try to do something useful of my few last days before starting the new job. So talking to my sister, Joe and everybody I met that weekend basically we planned the strategy. I would pick as many apples as possible on Sunday morning, leaving those trees right down to their bones I was confident. Then Monday morning was going to be used to buy all the jam jars, ingredients and utensils needed for the “jam factory” as I called it, so in the afternoon I would make unthinkable quantities of apple jams that we would take to my sister’s local Butcher where they could hopefully sell for us and I could add the profits to the funds raised so far during JOGLE 2010. What a plan!
Enthusiastically, I embarked myself in my fruit picking Sunday morning and was loving it. Feeling such a farmer boy. And right here, is where the crumbling starts.
The naive intention of picking all the apples was soon demoralised after one and half hours, around 60 kg of apples and looking back at the trees to see no difference at all. The bloody trees! They looked untouched. Soooo many apples! And that was only 2 out 5 trees.
One massive bag, the kitchen sink, a big box and a apple flooded kitchen later, I decided it was enough. Back to research and look for the mighty apple jam recipe that would delight many untrusting Oxfordshire residents with the little known qualities of the very well known fruit for jam making purposes.
Monday lunch arrived and I was starting to feel the weight of the enterprise I have taken upon. I was cooking for my sister and I, and haven’t even started with the jam cooking. After about 20 apples peeled, I knew deep inside this ship was very soon running aground... A big apple crumbling failure of my skills as a untrained fruit picker, untrained cook and untrained eco mentalist.
No details will be giving of how hard or disappointing were the next few hours for this failed entrepreneur, but here’s a few conclusions and lessons I will remember of all this.
If you haven’t heard of apple jam before, there’s a reason for it. They are shit for it. Or at least the ones in my sister’s garden are.
Do not try to peel a kitchen-full load of apples on your own. And do not try to invite friends to help you out, it won’t be appreciated I am certain.
When trying to do some kind of charitable job, make sure to give it a try and be sure that is doable before you proudly tell everyone. The shameful notifying of failure is a very embarrassing moment.
If you’re in anyway riding, keep it on... if you’re not, get up and go for a ride, you’ll feel loaded with energy afterwards. Just think twice how you spend it all! Jam making... uhhhhmmm!!!

Fonzie the Fruit Picker (Mind the scarf, my sister's)



Fruit picking utensils...



Joe will eat some for sure!

I dont know how to call it really

John O’Groats is quite a random place. In the far North East corner of the UK, it sits where development seems to have struggled its way in. Though, given its geographical position, it has become quite a popular and known place between cyclist, runners, and many other who have challenged themselves aiming to complete the infamous route in any particular, authentic or extravagant way. Not long before we did it, I heard one guy had broken the record in a Monocycle, doing it in something like 12 days... Freak!
The same can be said about Land’s End. A place full of contrasts. The first and last as it’s many times quoted along the route. It sounds like a remote place, but being at the corner of a more popular touristic destination like Cornwall, it has developed in somehow into a paradox of its name. Welcome to Land’s End and into a Mall!!! Are you for real?
Anyway, nothing they could have done in Land’s End or John O’Groats could spoil the satisfaction of riding, running or hand walk this wonderful route, though a welcoming bag of ice will be appreciated in any case. And this brought back a recurrent thought. The way you travel on a bike and the rewards of doing so. When I set off riding my bike, it’s rarely about the place I’m going to. It’s more about the ride itself, the journey and its ups and downs.
Throughout the eight days we took to complete JOGLE, we rode through some amazing landscapes. A rugged, raw and fearsome coastline of the North of Scotland. The windy and lunar sceneries of the Highlands and the mythical forests of the Cairngorms. Down we rode through Edinburg and rain greeted us all along our way into England, through some hills and lakes of mist. Down we went, leaving Manchester to starboard, crossing the Pennines and through the busy and winding roads of Yorkshire we rode the familiar Cotswolds into charming Bath, setting up the last, long and steep battle through Devon into Cornwall.
For me, a cherry on top of the cake of a wonderful year on two wheels. Liguria and the Maritime Alps prepared me for the long climbs along the Pyrenees and the Alps. My climbing legs were at their best but were not ready for the struggle of the head wind on the rolling hills of Aquitaine and the Loire, leaving the battle to be fought only on stubbornness. Sardinia, Malta and Sicily kept me trained through the summer, and I got to the UK very aware of the mission ahead.
At the end of the first day, after 215 km, when I struggled to make it to the campsite (trying to hide it from everyone of course) I knew it was going to be some tough 8 days. Of these, I’ll keep the joy, and challenge at the same time, of riding along such a cool bunch. A pleasant change from my usual solo riding. The raw conditions that slowed us to almost a dead stop on the second day, and the last push into Perth along Kev, Lance Andrew and Kieran Fucking Cancellara. The downpour as we were getting into England. The suffering you could see at Chris and Paul on every single stroke right from the second day and their courage to finish the ride head high. The disappointment at Tom’s face through the van’s window, and knowing he’s riding this tortuous route on a 65£ bike after no more than one month training. All for the good reasons. Patrick fading out and then cheering him up the last hill arriving to Liskeard, while I could hear him crying on pain. And tearful Kevin at the finish line, knowing he was supposed to be here 4 years ago when a serious car accident interrupted his training. And knowing that we were all there, giving our little support to a honourable cause and helping some of the riders that have first hand experiences with Parkinson’s made this awesome a week, a truly memorable one.
I’m excited about the times ahead. A new job, new places and a lot of sailing. But specially, I can look ahead at the prospect of more adventures like JOGLE 2010. I want to keep riding, walking or cooking and while doing so, try to make any of our enterprises as useful and productive as possible. Thanks to all of you who supported me in any way. To all the riders for their effort and words of pride and gratefulness about this whole experience. To the support crew who made it all easier on us. To James and Amy for putting this whole thing together, and to spectacular Britain for hosting us in such wonderful places.
Tunisia next... curious, always curious!

Check some pic at http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=232674&id=548987720&l=8a40b0bf74

Thanks to all!

Hello everyone,
I’m writing to thank you all for your donations, messages of support and for following my last ride from John O’Groats to Lands End. It’s been a truly amazing experience full of effort, sacrifice, suffering but joy and self satisfaction at the same time.
We started 24 cyclist from JOG on Sunday the 5th, and after 8 days and almost 1600 km of riding, 21 of us finished last Sunday at Lands End under the clapping and cheering of the support crew and other public and tourists present at the finish line.
Amongst us there was James who is dedicating his life to organizing events fundraising for the Psychiatry Research Trust. Tom, Dan and Paul’s close relatives have been diagnosed with Parkinson recently and it’s been an honour to ride along them, see their effort fighting illness and injuries, and heartbreaking seeing Tom’s efforts being spoiled by mechanical problems. They are all heroes for me and it’s been very satisfying to help their cause by fundraising for What’s Driving Parkinson’s. A project which can bring solutions to their beloved ones situation.
I have seen your donations coming through during the trip and I will be updating my blog with stories and pictures in the next few days. I want to take the time to thanks each one of you for supporting this initiative and motivating me to keep pedalling even when pain was winning the battle.
As part of my fundraising efforts, I wanted to pass by the Clinic these days while I’m still in the UK to check the job they’re doing and to meet part of the people responsible for carrying out the development of the project so I can inform you guys and you have more firsthand information on how your money is being invested and used to help the project. Unfortunately James is not available these days and will be impossible to visit the clinic so he’s commit himself to send me some photos and all the information available. Hopefully I can learn more about it and its people as well.
Hope you’re all enjoying yourselves and I thank you again for your messages and donations. There’s still time to donate at www.justgiving.com/fonziesjogle2010 so please spread the word around and keep checking my blog out at www.fonziesride.blogspot.com
Love,
Fonzie

Land's End!

We made it yesterday afternoon to Land's End.
After one thousand five hundred and more km, the crew of 21 cyclist call into the most Southwesterly point on Britain's territory, with clapping and cheering of support members, families, girlfriends and other strangers who joined in the celebrations. A very emotional moment it was, maybe the sense of achievement or the realization of restful and painless days ahead put smiles on all our faces and under a bright Cornish sun we gather and enjoy ourselves with a few drinks and plenty of stories of the last few hard fought days. More soon! Thanks for all your messages

Sad but true!

Today was the second to last day of this end to end enterprise we are into. It's been 7 days now and I have to say it's been even tougher than expected. Weather wise we've gotten a bit of everything, but the terrain is so rugged and roads so steep that is hard to get into a good rhythm to get the miles going and we end up spending long hours on the saddle everyday.
We've also been trying to stay together to make navigation easier for the riders and support crew and we have to work even harder to do so. Kevin is one of those who's been working his ass off and we all appreciate his effort and commitment.
A very strong rider, particularly a good climber, Kevin was ran over by a car 4 years ago when he was on his bike and spent 6 days on a hospital with arm, legs and skull fractures, so every time you hear him screaming with with a very particular tone "CARRRRR!" you know he takes safety very seriously nowadays. Reminds me of Chandler from Friends, everybody's friend but nobody knows what he does for work, it's like that doesn't matter here.
Up until yesterday Kevin was rock solid, no injuries and always riding at great pace. Today when people told me he had been dropped behind with a sore Achilles tendon i realize how tough this ride has been on all of us. No matter how fit you are, you will feel it, you will inevitably be in pain and it's how you deal with those bad moments which determine either you finish or not what you committed for.
Of course kevin did not gave in. We all knew he wouldn't. He went through it and at the end of the day on a couple of unexpected great climbs we both went ahead and challenged ourselves. Massive fun! The first one, Kitt Hill said at the top, it's been maybe the best climbing i've done since I started cycling a year ago. After 200 km and with "Sad but true" from Metallica as loud as possible on my earphones, i surprised myself on that climb and will be a highlight of this great ride.
Will be looking forward to meet with Kevin for some serious climbs on the Alps or Pyrenees sometime and will be looking forward to finish tomorrow with 120 km to Lands End and let the pain fade away.

Second to last day!

We're down to 18 at times, people are hurting and we just had the first accident of the ride... Weather not helping the spirits!

Through the cotwolds

Long day on the saddle. The crew are feeling the miles now and we spent long hours trying to stay together. Will post some more later...

Do believe in ice!

You know when you hurt yourself and people always says "oh just put some ice on it!"? Well it got to a point when i just thought it was a whole lot of crap. I would say it too of course if somebody was hurt, but just for the sake of the cliche or maybe pretending i knew something about it.
Well as from yesterday, I am a true believer in ice. A faithful preacher of its miracles and myths, and a loyal practitioner of his healing rituals. In ice I trust!
We arrived today at Lichfield, and I'm still riding along thanks to ice. Two days ago my right knee started aching. A very sharp pain in the internal side every time I would push on the pedal. That was day 3 and I rode the last 4 hours of the day pedaling only with my left leg. I put some ice that night and it felt pretty good the next morning until eleven when the pain restarted. By 2 o'clock when we stopped for lunch I thought I was out. Lots of climbing that day and my left leg was too tired of doing all the job. While having lunch I put some ice to try and finish the day and it was incredible. Pain was gone and i could pedal like during the morning. Two hours after lunch the support crew passed some ice while riding and then at the afternoon break I found some ice for my sore knee again. And so i did last night and this morning. It's been around 480 km since that knee started hurting and i'm still going solid. Today it didn't even hurt but I could feel the discomfort caused by the swelling, tomorrow we'll see.
It's been 5 days on a very hilly terrain and everybody's feeling it by now. Paul has a pain in his Achilles tendon since the second day and today his knee started to hurt badly. You can see he's hurting. If i remember correctly, Paul's grand dad was diagnosed with Parkinson's not so long ago and you can see he's fully committed to this ride and will not quit and i really hope so for him. The same with Chris. I don't know what are Chris's reasons for being here but he's struggling out there but just keeps going, it hurts to see him pedaling always leaning or bent in awkward positions. He's dad is having a holiday around Britain and is following us every now and then, good fun.
We had two retirements in the first two days with Steven retiring because of a hip injury and Allister with a sore knee. Luke had to take the van yesterday with tendinitis on his knees and gave it a try this morning but didn't work out for him and might be going back home tomorrow. We're down to 21 riders then and to all of then carrying injuries, I have and will keep suggesting that they should use ice, simple and magic ice.

The hungry cyclist!

It's been 3 tough days of cycling. About 600 km around some overwhelming hills in Scotland against the nastiest wind i've ever cycled in.
Last night we had dinner at a farm courtesy of Andrew Johnson just outside Perth where the local council offered us an epic bbq and whisky.
Today as we entered England, we've been hit by horrible weather including hailing and heavy downpours. On the other side, our first English meal has been a real blessing thanks to a local brewery where we're staying 10 miles north of Newcastle.
Speaking of food, we've been organized by a real expert on the matter. Talking life with Tom on the first night, we found out that he went to school in the same school my sister teaches in Abingdon. After some studies in sculpturing and something else i can't quite remember now, Tom has dedicated his last years to cycling the world, cooking (which means eating) and writing. In his book The Hungry Cyclist, tom tells the stories of his journey from Mew York to Rio i think, and gives recipes he finds out and discovers here and there. Smiley chatty chap, always available and optimistic, Tom's been a great part of the support crew and i thank him for keeping us fed and for all the driving around. Cheers for tom!

Edinburgh!

Rain and cold today. Many people suffering the conditions but it's getting better. Making good progress and having fun... Much better without yesterday's wind!

The female support

Olga and Amy spend their days following us on the support vehicles. A tedious work in fact.
Olga is the second Latin American on the team apart from myself. Coming from Medellin she's done a great job getting herself in the right angles to take some nice action shots of the riders.
Amy is from Newcastle and has been helping James organizing jogle2010. When not traveling the UK following and sorting things out for a tired group of cyclists, she works part time as a stand up comedian in London and apart from believing there's a pack of hungry wolves coming to attack cyclists in the campsites, she's always showing a welcoming smiley face... And gives very nice warm hugs if you're feeling a bit chilly! Nite nite...

What a day...

Just getting to Inverness on a glorious cycling day. 5 more miles to camp site and looking forward to more of beautiful Scotland tomorrow

Sun rises at midday!

It's been gray, windy and quite a chilly start... Just like you would imagine Scotland, and it's cool that. By mid day the sun came out and we're having lunch at and old mill in Golspie half way on day 1

Ladies first!

Rachel is from london and studied arts history. For work she prepares, packs, and ships recently sold antiques and artworks. Like a cezzane (excuse spelling if not correct) once sold in... Many millions! Any long distance cycling experience? Oh well, she says, i cycled from seattle to san francisco and then across america once... She doesn't drive so have always used her bike to commute to and from work. She's done a Great job fundraising and will be the only woman riding along... Very cool ladie indeed!

European eagle owl

A bit of entertainment in inverness before the pedaling

Inverness!

Here i am, waiting for pick up time and having a bit of a wander... Well like 3 wanders already, not a very big town this. 6 other people on the train doing the end-to-end, in 17 and 13 days... 8 looks quite intense, excellent!

It's on!

The good silver arrow is hanging from her head... Poor thing, from the mountains and landscapes of the pyrenees to a 12 hour train ride hanging upside down on her wheels... We'll get the mileage going soon!

21 kg de atún!

Probando mandar fotos del cel

Tomorrow off I go to Inverness!

Tomorrow I'll take the train to Inverness. Invierno in spanish means Winter, so can't help relating the place to the season... Thinking a lot of the weather, how rainy or windy it will be (not very nice according to this http://news.bbc.co.uk/weather/forecast/10? )
And sort of wondering the whole thing to be honest, I guess it's because I'm a bit worried about the fundraising. I was only able to take the decision to come to www.jogle2010.org a little late (work was interfering with the important stuff) so all the fundraising ideas seem quite delayed. I have contacted some of the local media and didn't get any response so that has put me down a lot. But I'll get there, even if it means doing lemonade or taking my sister garden's apples and cooking apple struddle and pies to sell by the road... I'll get there!
If you have any ideas come on drop me a line I'm open to hear anything... need to sleep! always a rush before leaving, always!

The ponzian islands... Just trying this phone thingy!

JOGLE 2010 The Map

I read on a friend's blog last week, the mortified confession that she had bought a digital camera... A good fun of a girl, a passionate photographer and cool blogger herself (you can check her blog at http://heyyousaycheese.blogspot.com/ ) she wrote about it to all her followers, making it clear that it was to save some money so she can travel more next year and then taking more polaroids...
I was thinking about the trip I'll be doing next month accross the UK (www.jogle2010.org and www.justgiving.com/fonziesjogle2010 ) and thought I have a confession to make to some, maybe a couple...
You know, to those who doesn't know me that well... I'm English! I know, sounds weird (specially with my venezuelan/kiwi-wannabe accent) but I am, at least technically. I was born in London, an so I'm an English Citizen. But that's no worries. I feel lucky and thankful about it, except every 4 years with the football world cup.
But the second confession might worry some. In particular some italian readers. I've been working as a cook on a boat in Italy in the last year or so. And when you say it everybody goes "ohh aaahh yadda yadda yadda" while confidently moving their hands somehow, which gestures mean all the words they aren't saying... They are quite passionate about their culinary culture, and with a reason I have to admit. But unfurtunately, some can be a bit arrogant about it and will tend to think than nowhere else in the world there's a culinary culture. They even think there's no such thing as english food...
Confession, here it goes... I do like english food! I genuinely believe there's nothing better for a hang over than an english breakfast. I do like toasts with butter and Marmite. Yes Marmite. I like sundays' roasts and think fish and chips on a sunny day in the beach rocks! (I might get fired after all that if the boss reads it)
Unfortunately I've never lived in England so I have never really digged deeper into its food. So when reading about JOGLE 2010 and finding out they had orginized all of our meals with local producers I can say I was very much pleased and looking forward to it.
I'm very curious and motivated about this whole experience. The people and their cycling experience. But specially I'm very curious about the landscape and the food. Although I've been regularly to England lately to visit my sister, I feel this is the first time I'll be seeing the country itself. I wonder about the riding, the hills and the weather we'll meet along the way.
It feels good to actually go and live the place I was born at, and it feels awesome to give something back to a country which has given me and my family so much.

John O'Groats to Land's End 2010

Alright, so here I go again...
This time I won’t be riding by myself, and basically I will be supporting one man’s idea, initiative and determination by joining him and 25 or more cyclists in a group ride from John O’Groats to Lands End (hence the name JOGLE 2010), or in other words from the most northern point to the most southern piece of land in the United Kingdom.
The idea was created from James Bowthorpe who last year broke the world record for cycling around the world in 174 days. James has raised 120 thousand pounds so far for a project run by the Institute of Psychiatry in London called What’s Driving Parkinson, for what he has worked and volunteered for over 3 years now. The project is trying to find a cure for Parkinson’s Disease and it’s extremely underfunded, so James has set himself a target of 1,8 million pounds... not an easy task indeed!
I’ll be joining him for this ride, and as the other 25 riders, my aim is to raise 1000 pounds for this project. So together, we can put together over 25 grand in just one week.
As James is doing (getting people together so that each of one us can raise a little money to achieve the big target) I would like that apart from donating (that you can do easily t at www.justgiving.com/fonziesjogle2010 ) and contributing to my participation in this event, you help me (or the cause) passing this information to as many people as you can and as actively as you can, help us getting more people together so I can reach my target of 1000 pounds and we can help James achieving his goal. You can help not only donating, but also getting more people to donate, finding any sponsors, creating more awareness about this project, and making more people find other supporters.
The event will run from September the 5th to the 12th, 1600 km in 8 days, so I’m hoping we can put together at least the 1000 pounds by the time we finish the ride.
Get yourself involved. Support this good cause as you can, and think of it not as something I am doing, think of it as we together doing something good for others.
I’ll be updating our progress through my blog www.fonziesride.blogspot.com and you can follow me on twitter @fonziesride. There’s also a website of the event that you can check out on www.jogle2010.org.
Cheers,
Fonzie and the Jogle 2010 crew.

Riding the Med

Summer was spent sailing and riding around Sardegna, Malt and Sicily... more to come soon!

Genova

Genova
I vividly remember the first time I read Horacio Quiroga’s short stories. I was in second year of high school and the emotions and thrills of this tales from the Uruguayan writer were teaching me how emotive reading can be. From then on, everything I read from him was holly word.
That has changed in many ways, but I still remember his Decalogo del perfecto cuentista. A list of ten commandments on how to write a short story. One of them said “No escribas bajo el imperio de la emoción. Déjala morir, y evócala luego...” (“Do not write under the empire of emotion. Let it die, and evoke it later...”)
Contradictory, I find myself writing about emotions here, so not writing emotively seems a bit absurd. But I thought about his words this weekend and today. If I would’ve written this post, either straight after my arrival in Genova, or this last weekend; or as it happened, today, they would’ve been three completely different stories. Three completly different emotions.
As I said after coming into Italy, I did go to Venice. From Lugano rode to Brescia, then San Bonifacio close to Verona and then Venice. I don’t know if it was the welcoming feeling of the already known, or the kind reception of the italian cyclists I found along the way, but with every stroke of the pedal this feeling of self aknowledgement slowly grew on me. Maybe the satisfaction of the soon to be achieved goal of Le Tour. Or just feeling phisically and mentally in a great space. But I felt I could kept riding forever. I didn’t want to go back. I didn’t want this to finish. It just felt right.
A friend wrote to me some beautiful words in which he described the sensations he got from reading some of my posts in a way that really shook me. “Donde nació esta idea, murió un desencanto personal... y cada km recorrido debe ser aire nuevo” (where this idea was born, a personal unease died... And every km ridden must be a new breath). And partly, those days riding to Venice, not only I felt I had shaken a big heavy ballast off, but also that I had found a new road. Not by changing places but by changing myself, by believing in this ideas that just pop in and out of my head everyday, and by having the courage to put dreams and passion together in pursuit of self realization.
I found myself in the train back into Genova not wanting to go back, wondering how come I wanted to keep going so badly. But it wasn’t about Genova, neither about continue riding my bike. Genova meant routine, meant going back to a meaningless job which have given me very little satisfaction or motivation lately, and specially meant keep sleep walking through all the way until my next time off. Riding my bike meant freedom and wellbeing, but it also symbolized this parallel life away from work where I put all my faith and heart in accomplishing dreams and goals, and trying to help or inspire others with it.
The unease remained with me for a few days, but on the weekend, Genova showed her best smile. The same misterious and intriguing smile which have captivated me for the last year. Slowly revealing her secrets and treasures with her cheeky winks you discover around her corners. And when wandering around her narrow vicoli I was glad I was here. In Genova, in the heart of Liguria. I was at peace with what I’ve achieved with Le Tour cycling wise and personally. Some of the amazing responses I got from friends or family, or the little smiles and complitmments I got along the way from random people, kept reminding me of the emotions this project has awaken on people. And all this things together with my will to keep riding (figuratively speaking) give me the motivation and inspirations to stay in this road and hope this fire I feel burning inside, keeps heating things up.
Funny that I always thought of this trip as the beginning of something. Somehow I knew this was not the purpose of all the training I was doing during the winter, but that it was actually a part of it. A learning process. Training was great to find out how my body behaved in different rides, weather, clothes and to get the fitness I needed for the trip of course. All the research I done tought me many things for the preparations stages of such projects. And the trip itself was just a part of it. At every minute of this april month of 2010 I was learning and trying to get everything in form this experience. I wanted to hear myself for the whole ride and listen to what my body and mind had to say. So now that I’ve finished this trip I have shared with whoever I have met or contacted along the way, it feels like I’m just ready for the next project. And that’s very exciting and motivating.
I’m so curious...

A different place!

Almost there yet. But where!
Since I started sailing, I've always felt very attracted to solo-sailing. And so I've read a lot of books about it.
The first one I read was about the '96 Vendee Globe, and there I read about Bernard Moitessier. A french-vietnamese sailor who became very famous in 1968 when sailing alone around the world and competing for the Golden Globe Trophy for the first ever and faster circumnavigation alone and non-stop.
He had sailed pass Cape Horn and only needed to go North through the Atlantic to reach England and he would have won the prize for the fastest circumnavgation, and maybe the trophy for the first ever as he might have beaten Sir Robin Knox Johnston, the eventual winner. Instead, he turned east, and continued half way around the world again and finally set anchor at Tahiti, French Polynesia, where he lived most of his life.
He wrote, that in keep going north and winning the award, his trip would be bruised or stained by the pursuit of money. But also, that leaving Europe, to finish back in Europe, seemed no sense for him then that he had achieved such harmony with his boat and the ocean. The Long Way is the name of this book.
I won't compare by any means what those guys achieved in 1968 or what the guys in the Vendee Globe go through, to what I've been doing for the last month. But they all are a great inspiration for me. People who passionately live their dreams in search for stretching their personal limits, and with it, broadening humans limits as well. I think is pioneers like them, who have pushed human development as far as it is today. Dreams, curiosity and passion working together.
Having passed the Alps, and back in Italy, I could have been writing this back in Genoa. I had a couple of days worth of riding left to complete the initial plan of the trip. But thinking about it, I would like as well that this month, this trip I will be finishing tomorrow by midday if it all goes according to plan, has taken me to a different place. The same Fonzie, but I would like to think, that this has changed things, at least a little bit. That for example I'll think of my time off differently. That next year, when I set off for the next adventure, I'll be a little wiser and stronger, that this ride have been all learning. Or even that any of this that I've been wiriting, telling and showing you for the last few weeks, have inspired at least a little bit some of you, or make you think twice, or given you another point of view on different things. Perhaps.
So I kept riding. Another 400 km. Instead of south, I turned east as well, asking locals and other cyclist how to get to the next town. Yes, let's go to Venice, let's check it out, let's go and have lunch with la Nana and hopefully a couple of wines. Rendez vous for lunch at midday. GREAAATT!!!

Oberalppass....Geschlossen!!!!

From Basel I rode towards Luzern, the lake district in Switzerland I guess. It was a 96 km ride but decided to keep going to approach the Alps a little more, and try to pass the mountains and into Lugano in one day.
Arrived to Schwyz, after 127 km and found a cool backpakers to stay where I chilled out, foun out where I needed to go the next morning and watch the Bayern Munich game with a couple of very excited german dudes.
Next day was a monster day of a ride. 200 km, up the Oberalppass which wasn't ferme ferme like the passes in France, it was one solid Geschlossen!!!. So this time I didn't even ask, or try to convice myself it was doable. I just looked at the webcam and saw the road was clear, early wake up next day and at 7 am I was up and riding south along Lake Luzern into Altdorf where the easy climb started and then into the proper climbing. 34 km up the Oberalp, which as internet shown was no problem to ride through. Down to Disentis and up again to Lockmanier pass, another 900 m above, and then down into italian Switzerland to finish the 9 hours 30 minutes ride passing Monte Ceneri and into Lugano. Around 2700 m climbed, a really tough day of cycling, specially with the head winds I got starting to climb Lockmanier all the way to the end.
At Lugano, found this youth hostel, great staff, a few people wandering to go for an aperitivo and dinner, and even a pool.
Breakfast was epic, and chatting with this couple of swiss girls, also cyclists, and told of my ride. Of the 4000 km I have done so far, of the Pyrenees, of the killer ride from previous day, and of the guy I found up at the Oberalp. As I got to the top of the pass, I stopped for a few photos, a look around, and preparing to start my way down (shoe covers, beanie, neck cover, snowboarding gloves).
There I met this swiss man who asked me where I was going to and other things, in german, so comunication was sort of difficult.
Then he asked "you where from?"
"Venezuela mate!"
"Venezuelaaaa!! ohh!! donde vienes?"
"de Schwyz"
"y ahora Disentis?"
"Si, Disentis, y luego Lockmanier, y Lugano!"
"Luganoooo!!! hahahaha...y luego?"
"manana, Italia, Genova, Venezia, no lo se todavia"
Then he finished, with a cheeky grim in his face and his funny german gringo accent: "hahahahaa....TU GRANDEI TIGREEE!!! haaaahaaaahahaa! Auf wiedersehen!"
And right there, at 2048 meters above sea level, definitly by far one of the highest moments of Le Tour...
And we laughed at breakfast with the "Grandei Tigre" story, and laughed at how they understood why I was traveling alone, and at my cutted-in-half toothbrush to save weight. And off I went, into Italy, on thursday. Where to? I didn't know, just head south and maybe east. I'll just ride, it's all easy now.