Category Archives: Uncategorized

italiano

44 days have passed since I set out again. It didn’t start well. While I was in Bosnia for few days with friends, Cecilia escaped in Switzerland. Two weeks of desperate searching. I had lost hope. I couldn’t wait any longer, I had to leave. I was really sad. My heart was broken.

On reaching my first stop at my sister’s place in Basel I fell ill. The departure was postponed, again! Then a message on whatsapp: is this kitten yours? (with photo attached) Cecilia! I couldn’t believe it. I’m sooooo grateful to lovely Manuela.

The bond with Cecilia was strengthened by this experience. Obviously I was worried that she would run away from me so I put a harness and leash on her …. but it was a stress: for me, for her. She got stuck everywhere … it wasn’t the kind of life I wanted to give her…she’s a cat!

My experience with Dimitri taught me: Trust. You should trust. So I did also with Cecilia. A panacea! She disappeared for hours during the day or the night, but she always came back. When she is frightened, she run straight in the Pajero. She’s great and she brings me lots of disembowelled mices. When I call her, she doesn’t always come but I know she is around and that sooner or later she will be back. I think Cecilia has learned her lesson too.

I will be extremely honest: a trip in Europe has never interested me. I had already cycled from Amsterdam to Faido and it was definitely not the highlight of my trip. Don’t get me wrong: there are beautiful places, villages, lot of history, amazing architecture, astonishing landscapes …. but there is not MAGIC … and even my posts have lost it … the MAGIC.

Apart from the fact that everything is very anonymous and there is very little social contact, you can’t do anything: private property everywhere, very inhabited, no access everywhere, no camping, no swimming, entrances to pay … I get anxious. All this of course is really understandable: the land is overflowing with people and it is right to protect the few places that are still a bit wild … but it’s tiring.

Finding a place to spend the night without breaking a thousand prohibitions was difficult (I did anyway few times, mea culpa). I certainly stayed away from antennas and electricity pylons … yes, because I forgot to tell you about my experience “on television” in Serbia: I had found a lovely place with an amazing view. It was next to an electricity pylon but it didn’t bother me. As soon as I got out of the car I took the longest pee in the world. A perfect “pee with view”. I remember I let out an ‘aaaaahhh’ from the relief of releasing myself and then did a mini dance of joy … yep, things you do in your most intimate sphere.

After 30 minutes, already comfortable in my Pajero, I hear a knock and somebody opened the door (which I usually close before sleeping)! They were 4 young men. Furious (and also a bit scared), I asked how they allowed themselves to open the door!! “Sorry, sorry! We are military. You are in a military zone, we saw you in the camera” and they pointed at the pylon. They kept talking, but the only thing that echoed in my head was ‘w e s a w y o u i n t h e c a m e r a’… We looked each other in the eyes, me serious and them trying to hold back laughter. “You’re really very welcome! (smile) but you can’t stay here”…nothing, I couldn’t get the image out of my head of these 4 young men in front of the screen having a good laugh in front of my pale booty dancing.

I navigate with maps showing me all the military zones, but this one was not there. Of course I apologised. They understood. They were really nice. They showed me where I could safely spend the night. Lesson learned.

In Germany I stopped in a car park near a forest. It was not very clean because tourists or young locals often leave rubbish lying around … I was not thrilled but it was fine for 1 night. At night I had the impression that I had ants everywhere. I didn’t sleep well. In the morning my legs and arms were full of red dots. An invasion of fleas! I sifted blankets, clothes, mattress and cats. No mercy. I feared there were eggs. Fortunately, I had eradicated them. Never again in a dirty place. Lesson learned.

Luckily I also met lovely people with who I immediately connected. We could have talked for hours. Also tourists. The very few I met so far. Konni and Wolfgang who gave me a wonderful surprise by visiting me at a campsite; Renate and Fred who brought me a piece of cake from their ‘downtown’ tour.

At Lisbeth (the white witch) and Rob’s place I spent a week. They are Dutch and run a nice campsite – B&B in the Czech Republic. Lisbeth knows the properties of wild plants and herbs: ‘in winter if you don’t know what to do come here,’ she told me. “OK Lisbeth but you teach me about plants”. She showered me with gifts. A woman with beautiful energy and a strong spirit.

From Germany to Latvia there were tourists, even many, but they were local tourists. As in the Balkans, families here spend their weekends in nature: campsites filled up, paths were invaded by bicycles and walkers, barbecues, canoe trips… people everywhere. I like how they enjoy their own country.

In the Czech Republic I would say they are the most ‘professional’: strictly phosphorescent sportswear, sports socks pulled up to the knees, the latest outdoor jackets, headband. They looked like they came out a sportswear magazine. In Czech Republic I also found the most beautiful camping places.

But zero contacts. People were interested in my cats. They took pictures of Dimitri or the cat flap installed on the Pajero, but they didn’t talk to me. Maybe because hardly anyone speaks English (or any other language).

I’m spending looooots of time immersed in nature. Now I really realise how much I missed it. The chirping of birds, the croaking of frogs, the buzzing of flies, the rustling of leaves in the wind … so peaceful and rejuvenating. I slowly head north, through fields, forests, lakes and rivers.

The days flow slowly. The sun stays up until 10:30 pm and darkness never comes. I do not know how this journey will continue, but I must be careful not to reach Lapland during the time of the Nordic vampires: the mosquitoes (which are already now quite annoying). Lesson learned in a Canadian summer: clouds of mosquitoes getting into your ears, nose, eyes, mouth while eating or speaking … a nightmare.

But do you know what is the most important lesson I learned? To follow my gut. That little voice inside that we all have but often don’t listen to because we believe that rationality is more logical than intuition. When travelling alone one is a bit vulnerable in certain situations. A warning light comes on. Not anxiety, fear or dread simply alertness and the little voice inside gets louder and louder. I believe it’s a normal survival instinct that we don’t need in our comfortable homes.

I have learned to listen to that little voice. I follow what my gut tells me, always. Maybe this journey doesn’t feel very ‘mine’, but I am certain of the decision I made a year ago: to give it all up. And you? Do you follow your instincts or rationality?

Big hug

Stefi, Dimitri and Cecilia

italiano

I entered Serbia in early November. The days were colder and shorter. Mornings were shrouded in fog that slowly faded away. People cleared the fields and gardens, cut wood, prepared salted preserves … everyone was preparing: “winter is coming” …

I tried to visit as much as possible, beautiful places, wild nature, incredible geological formations. The cold penetrated my bones. The sky was often veiled in grey or soaked in rain. Positive was that the tourist season was in hibernation so many places were all for me. Amazing places.

The endless back roads took me to remote places, rugged valleys, hidden villages, sleepy forests and magnificent monasteries. I visited typical ancient villages, modern museums preserving Neolithic remains, many many archaeological sites everywhere (mostly roman time), even in the middle of cities. Who knows how many wonders still lie beneath the ground! …

But it was not easy. It was not easy to get out of the cosy sleeping bag on frosty mornings. It was not easy to find a open restaurant where I could get a hot meal. It was not easy to find a facility where I could shower and/or do laundry. Sure, there were hotels, but they were not suitable for two cats. Everything was closed. Everything.

What worried me the most was when I parked somewhere remote to sleep and it started snowing. What would I do if a lot (too much) snow fell? It was also becoming more and more difficult to start the Pajero in the mornings… the nights outside were now too cold. Even the cats started sleeping in the sleeping bag with me. Winter arrived.

I could have gone further south, towards milder temperatures, but on the one hand I couldn’t enter Montenegro because Cecilia lacked some paperwork (I didn’t want to risk) and on the other hand the borders with Kosovo were closed at that very moment because the situation was becoming tense … and my gut was not really very motivated to go south.

I found some warmth in the various natural thermal baths in the country. I admit, the first impressions of the infrastructure were not reassuring. Everything was felling apart … I felt like I was in one of those documentaries from the communist period. What was in complete disrepair today was for sure a gem in the 1970s. Apart from the aesthetics of the place I have to say that it was the best thermal bath I have ever had.

I looked for a cabin to rent where I could spend the winter. I also looked for a small job related to winter tourism, but without Serbian knowledge it was practically impossible. On colder days I rented small flats from families, mostly elderly people who didn’t know a word of English, but absolutely lovely. For a few dinars per day (12 to 20 euros) I had a flat for myself, completely equipped and with plenty of wood for the fireplace. Lovely romantic evenings in front of the fire with my cats….

Thanks to winter, I came into more contact with local families. To enter their homes, to breathe in the atmosphere of the small villages, the little well-stocked shops, the time passing slowly, the life regulated by the daylight, the grandmothers’ excellent cooking … Lovely people, very sweet, hospitable and friendly. After 2 months practically on my own a bit of human warmth did me good, very good.

But I was tired. Tired of the cold. Of the lack of a hot shower. Bad, grey days. I was tired of going out on freezing nights to pee. Serbia did not have what I needed for the winter (a small house to stay in) so I tried my luck in Bulgaria but even there I soon realised that I would not find what I was looking for. I followed my instincts: ‘Go back to Switzerland for the winter and start the journey again in the spring’. And so I did.

… but winter is over now … This means that … She is around.

Un abbraccio

Stef, Popone & Cecilia

italiano

With time I became more and more confident in choosing where to spend the night. On my bicycle I could ride into remote areas without being noticed and this made me feel safe. Whereas now with a big, white off-road car it was more difficult to go unnoticed, but slowly everything began to be smoother and I noticed that people were absolutely not disturbed by my presence. Yes, Bosnian people are really easy-going.

The streets were practically deserted and the tourist areas as well. Every now and then I would have liked to have a chat with someone but I also appreciated the privilege of enjoying some places in total solitude. When one is alone, the silence dominates. Sounds or noises were amplified, limpid and clear … it gave me a sense of solemn presence; of me living in the present; now; here; 100%.

The few words I had learnt were a great help in gaining people’s sympathy and trust. I felt so at ease that people thought I was Bosnian: they would talk to me in supermarkets, from the cost of tangerines or a few jokes in the pet department; they would ask me for directions in the street or start a chat in the small village shops: “Sorry I’m a tourist, I don’t understand” I replied smiling. They took a step backwards. They were almost stunned. They studied me with their gaze to understand if I was joking.

I was starting to get used to the terrible roads, the abandoned villages, the bars at the entrance of the supermarkets in a cloud of cigarette smoke, which ‘Sir‘ (local cheese) to buy, the Plazma biscuits, the great seasonal fruit and vegetables from the grannies placed by the side of the road, stopping and looking at the level crossings (yes, because I discovered that 99% of the flashing lights and barriers don’t work … thanks to my powerful guardian angel). I was one of them … almost.

Almost. I was still struggling to see beautiful dogs tied to the chain. Those damn short chains! A boulder on my chest. Anger. Powerlessness. The look in those dogs’ eyes was a cry for help. Pure desperation. But what kind of life is that? Why? Why to want an animal to keep it like that? I cried a lot. On a couple of occasions, I asked if I could walk their dog. I still remember Lucky, a name that sounded like a joke. No one was interested in him. Whole days outside in the heat, cold, snow and rain; tied to his less than 2 m long chain. 365 days per year. I was allowed to walk him. Pure joy. Almost 6 km through groves and running through meadows. Tired because he wasn’t used to walk so much, he laid on his back and licked my hand. A powerful “Thank you“. I didn’t turn around when I tied him back to the chain. I couldn’t. But I could hear him crying.

I knew that sooner or later I would give in. I think a dog would have been difficult to get Dimitri to accept (although on a couple of occasions I hesitated a lot) but a cat … It happened at a campsite in Blagaj. A scrawny little face, a terrible coat, bullied by the other cats was prowling around, completely alone and with terrified eyes. I don’t know how, but I managed to catch her. I gave her some food and from that day on I found her every morning outside the Pajero. I gave her a bath and soon found her in the Pajero comfortably sleeping. I made sure with the owners of the camping that the kitten didn’t belong to anyone and so Cecilia had joined our team.

My trip to wonderful Bosnia continued: me, Dimitri and Cecilia. She was great, as if she had always traveled with us. She was always around and at night she had learnt to use the little clap-door. Inside she carried (she still carries) several traumas and I think there are gestures or situations that still terrify her. It happened several times that I had to wait for her for more than 9 hours. But she always came back.

I loved Bosnia. Its people, its simplicity, the beautiful nature. The situation is not always easy. In some places I felt a certain tension, instability. In some places time seems to have stopped 25 years ago, where the destruction caused by the war silently cries out how much suffering the country has experienced: houses torn apart by gunfire, bombs, entire buildings collapsed, houses ransacked of materials that could still be used, entire properties, factories and businesses abandoned. “It was good once …” older people told me.

It is a country full of resources, with great potential, including tourism. For me it was incredible to camp on an archaeological site (UNESCO heritage site) completely undisturbed. Walking through the ruins and finding earthenware artefacts dating back 2000 years.

It was incredible for me to camp in a national parks with my cats (absolutely forbidden in Switzerland). I was beginning to feel a kind of conflict: on the one hand, I hope that the country and its people can grow and benefit from an increase in tourism, but on the other hand, mass tourism would ruin many areas that are still wild and untouched today.

A conflict to which I have no solution. What I could do was to enjoy what I was fortunate enough to experience in complete freedom. I felt (feel) gratitude for what I do, for the choices I have made in my life. Yes, because this way of living is not a condition that happened to me by chance/luck … I chose it.

Many people think I’m very brave. I’m not. I don’t think so. For me the families I have met along the way are much braver. I have to take care and I’m responsible only for myself (and the cats), but these parents have the responsibility for their children. This is definitely an intense and fulfilling lifestyle but it can also be difficult and exhausting. The family unit becomes the small world of the children. Spaces are restricted. Social contacts with peers are reduced. Language difficulties. And… and… and… but from my personal perspective it’s a wonderful gift that you can give your children even if they aren’t yet aware of it.

We were talking about this with Rebecca, Thomas and their children Vinz (age 7) and Tina (age 12). Them against everyone. “An unconscious and selfish choice” they were hearing from friends and family. The school had refused to let the children participate in some online classes or organize online meetings where they could exchange curiosities and experiences. A pity. A missed chance (for the school). But they pursued their project. They sold everything, even the house, and left. They are still traveling to enchanted places, experiencing joys and difficulties that no school can teach.

I am thankful for this “Bosnia” chapter, Cecilia’s arrival, the encounters (the beautiful ones) with people (the special ones). Thanks also to Rebecca for the opportunity to use her music for this latest video dedicated Sutjeska National Park.

The journey continues in Serbia … another huge chapter of this wandering of mine that I’ll tell you in the next post.

Un abbraccio

Stefi, Dimitri and Cecilia

italiano

I enter Croatia. On my map I had marked a couple of places I absolutely wanted to see … I don’t know what came over me but as I was driving and looking around my little voice inside me was telling me: go to Bosnia, don’t stop here. Would I have regretted it? Maybe. I followed my instincts and drove straight to the border between Croatia and Bosnia and Herzegovina.

“You cannot pass from here” Excuse me? “This border crossing is not for tourists, it’s only for locals. You have a nice cat by the way”. The young croatian border guard was super friendly. The back road I had taken was too remote. Nothing bad, I drove back for a few kilometres. CLA-CLACK! makes the big stamp on my passport: “Welcome to Bosnia and Herzegovina Stefani Zioldi”.

Bosnia and Herzegovina. I was there for more than a month. Even when I traveled by bicycle I usually stayed in a country for the duration of one month (also because visa issue), but I have to admit that overlanding with an off-road vehicle allowed me to see much more and to go into remote areas that by bicycle would have required a huuuge physical effort. I was not just crossing a country, I was really discovering it at my leisure.

Obviously I had many encounters. Even magical ones. Where a look straight into the eyes magically opens the doors of houses, allows you to attend banquets and puts a cup of coffee (very strong for me) always full in your hands. Ah yes!! The Rakija (Schnaps) was never missing. Communication was easier than I expected: whether it was the well-dressed gentleman at the bar or the cashier at the mini-market, many people here spoke German. Indeed. During the war, many fled to Germany, Austria and Switzerland. Most of them never returned. The elderly who remained died and the villages became depopulated. I passed through many ghost villages. Have you ever slept in a ghost village? Certain places sent shivers down my spine and a couple of times I struggled to find a place for the night where I felt comfortable …

The War. It is 27 years since it ended, but I could still see and feel the wounds … in some places very vividly. I usually ask my hosts a lot of questions: about their daily lives, family, work … Here I didn’t ask anything. I always remained very superficial. I knew for sure that each of them had lost someone between 1992 and 1995.

I let them tell me if they felt like it and many of them really wanted to. Their gaze lost in the void. I perceived that a whirlwind of memories and images was taking place in their heads. Fighting. Imprisonment. Disappearance. Rape. Death. These were the stories I listened to in silence. A boulder on the chest. Perhaps because of this same sad fate, the bonds between them, whether family, friends or neighbours, are very strong and genuine.

In general I saw few young people. They all live abroad. It’s not easy here. But this country has an incredible potential, also in terms of tourism.
You get the idea that these countries are poor … well, if by poverty you mean not having luxury comfort and/or all those futile or minor things that we surround ourselves with, then yes, they are poor.

But , is he poor who owns the ‘weekend house’, hectares of land, orchards, vineyards, huge vegetable gardens, bees, sheep, chickens and maybe even pigs and goats? Is he poor who is totally independent? Is he poor who doesn’t need to go to the supermarket because he has everything he needs? Pantries full of preserves, jams, pickled vegetables, salted and pickled preserves, dried fruit, honey, wine, cold cuts, dried meats and juices of all kinds … I come from a very rich country. But if one day the import of food suddenly should stops for a long time, what will we do? Will we eat our money and gold bars in the vaults? I am re-evaluating the meaning of wealth a lot. Sure, it is a hard life of sacrifice and toil that not everyone is willing to do, but I have become curious to try a similar lifestyle. A simple life, without schedules, at the rhythm of animals and nature, without stress, without obligations.

Of Bosnia and Herzegovina I really appreciated the wilderness. Untouched I wouldn’t say because unfortunately the problem of rubbish in certain areas is evident. Not to mention the mines that still unfortunately pose a threat today (it is estimated that there are still 2000 mines). Diligently respecting the bans on access (mine danger), I nevertheless found myself in wonderful, immense places, completely alone.

I missed this lifestyle. Every day is different. I decide where and when/how long to stay in a place. I can stay alone or in the company of wonderful people.

It is not always easy, especially alone when you have to take care of everything and … let’s face reality: I live in a car together with a cat; I always wear the same clothes; my diet is based on tuna cans … but what I have is enough for me. It makes me feel free. Serene. Rich. Rich in experiences. Rich in emotions (good and bad). Rich in special encounters … And you? How rich are you?

I still have a lot to tell about what I experienced in this beautiful country, which was truly a pleasant discovery for me. I still have many stories of wonderful places, funny, brave and inspiring people. But I will show you more in my next post.

In the meantime, I wish you happy holidays and may 2023 be rich.

Stefania & Popone

italiano

I took the road to Uccea to cross the border with Slovenia. A winding road desperately climbing up the forest and the rocky mountain walls. On the road some fallen rocks. The topography was dramatic and the fog and drizzle made everything even more mystical.

There was no one there and I was happy: I could drive relaxed and didn’t have to queue at the customs. After 30-40 minutes (and ca. 20 switchbacks) at about 1 km from the customs: booom! …The road was closed. Nooooo!

“They are fixing the road. There is a sign in the valley indicating that the road is closed!” I hear myself being scolded by a woman who worked in a small bar in Uccea (and who didn’t won miss-sympathy). I smiled trying to raise up my karma: ‘I just followed the sign “Slovenia” and there was nothing indicating that the road is closed’. Well, nothing to do. I turned back, retracing the 20 switchbacks and informing other adventurers that the passage was impracticable.

I thought the border crossing at Tarvisio would be an agony. What worried me most was that I was missing a veterinary certificate for Dimitri … there was not a soul in sight. The Slovenian customs, a bit shabby with its broken shutters, was deserted.

After few kilometer without hesitation I took a road that pointed to a national park. I admit it: I had no idea where and what to see in the greenest country of Europe. In fact, for some arcane reason I thought I would cross Slovenia fairly quickly.

Love at first sight. Pure nature. Wilderness. Clean. Well preserved. The weather was horrendous and despite the fog and rain the landscape and atmosphere was enchanting … the road a little less: narrow, steep and winding, partly cobbled … better than the road to Uccea, but still a sort of ‘déjà vu’.

But what are those numbers? 17, 18 … aaaah! It’s the number of the switchbacks. Damn, I’ve already done 18! … 25, 26 … what the hell?! Some cyclo-travellers in the opposite direction: very tired faces, soaking wet clothes. I was glad to be in my Pajero. The heating on. Lovely music in background. Warm feet. I remember that sensation to cycle in awful weather conditions … 32, 33 … Geeeeez! I started to be tired … 41, 42, 43 … oooooh pleeeeease! … 50, 51! Yep, that was the road in Val Trenta. Apparently this road is quite famous for its 51 steep switchbacks. This means that in one afternoon I drove 91 switchbacks … what a champion (ironic).

But more than the road it was the weather that tired me. Pouring, interminable rain. One day it seemed like they were throwing buckets of water on the windscreen. Humidity through the roof. Humid clothes. Humid sleeping bags. Humid cat. It was really uncomfortable.

Fortunately there were meetings to warm up the heart. In front of the Boka waterfall a car with Ticino plates (!) pulls up beside me. Immediately a pleasant chat began with Marica (of Slovenian origin) and Tino. We ended up in a bar in Kobarid over a cappuccino. Or the super nice couple Dario and Francesca with whom we shared many opinions, laugh and life philosophies. And the very sweet Dutch couple with their two small children with whom we exchanged travel experiences. And then of course the locals: very friendly (and very talented with the Italian language!), proud and attached to customs and traditions. All this sweetened by a genuine, locally sourced and delicious cuisine.

I knew practically nothing about Slovenia. Taking the time to visit a part of it allowed me to learn more about its culture, traditions and history.
To think that the beautiful valley where the enchanting river Soca (Isonzo) flows was the scene of major battles during the First World War … More than 300’000 between Italians and Austro-Hungarians fell … if the riverbanks could speak! I kept thinking about how many young men died in this region. Surely as young as those who come here today for a dose of adrenaline by practicing rafting, canyoning and other activities …

I would have liked to have seen more. I could have, actually, but I wanted to continue my route south, not to miss the autumn colours of other Balkan regions of which I had heard very very very good things… and I think I did just right! But I will tell you about that in the next post.

Un abbraccio

Stefi and Dimitri

More than a month has passed since I left home.
Although I had already taken that step more than five years ago and I knew how much that “act of courage” had changed me, given me and made me happy, I felt a certain nervousness. I was more nervous than five years ago. I don’t know why. Maybe because of the general situation, which is rather unstable and tense. Or maybe it was because I myself was unwilling to give up certain comforts and stability … I mean: living as a nomad in an off-road vehicle … I promised myself to always be brutally honest with myself and if it doesn’t work (even with/for Dimitri) to not force things.

I only spent a few days in the Ticino and Graubünden Alps. Absolutely beautiful places but the roads are very busy and you don’t get that sense of ‘wilderness’. In Ticino I had asked a gamekeeper if I could stop in the forest. “Are you alone? No, problem. Only in summer we don’t allow it’.

I placed myself in a really lovely spot, when … rubbish, nappies in plastic bags and toilet paper everywhere. Is it really so difficult not to leave a trace? The behaviour of these pigs also affects good campers … I was so angry.

In Italy I didn’t see much of the Dolomites. Fog, pouring rain and wind. I know the region a little and I was ready to use the camera as never before, but nothing. This is why not so many pictures in this post.
Even at night it was not easy to find a place to sleep. The season for many camping places was practically over and they were all closing down.

A group of campers suggested me to spend the night at Hans’s farm in the Alto Adige. “It’s a beautiful place with a wonderful view and Hans is soooo nice”. And so I did. Hans was really lovely, with his light-green smiling eyes. I immediately felt welcomed.

“Hans I have a cat, is it a problem?”. He became serious. “Uuuh yes, it’s a problem.” I laugh, thinking he was joking. “Blacky has already killed several cats. He just can’t stand them” and points me to a beautiful Labrador with shiny black fur and sweet eyes. “That sugar candy is a killer?”. “Yes. You can stay, but – and he stared straight into my eyes – take care of your cat. I really don’t want it to die”. OK, no, no, no. None of us needed that “stress”.

I asked him if he knew where in the area I could stay for the night without running into trouble or bothering anyone. He rubbed his chin: “Mmmm … you could ask Ube … we call him Otzi” he laughs. Otzi? The only image I associate with Otzi flashed in my head. Yes, exactly this image:

“Oh poor guy? Is he sick?” (what an idiot I am). He laughs: ‘No no, he’s just very “special” … you will see. Do you see that building up there? Drive there and ask for Ube”.

I was almost nervous to meet Otzi. A boy with incomprehensible pronunciation babbles something to me. “Wie bitte?” He pointed me towards a jungle of bushes. A voice rised up: “Who is looking for me?” and there he is, Otzi.

A man about my height (160 cm), ice-blue eyes, a beard and thick grey hair. On his head a leather cowboy hat. He wore a waistcoat made of many pieces of leather. His jeans were covered in a layer of dirt. And the thick hands, also dirty, were those of someone who had worked hard all his life. I immediately understood what Hans meant. Ube is not just “special”. Ube is a real character. The look was that of someone who had seen a lot. Proudly he showed me where and how he lives. In symbiosis with nature. The yurt (his house). The mud oven. The tea ‘veranda’. Figures carved in the wood. The cornfields. The geese … He allowed me to stay on his huge estate, in the forest.
“What do you do for job?” he asked me. “I am a geologist”. His eyes lighted up: “But then you know how to find water!” … and here begins the circus.

“Well, yes, geology also deals with water – hydrogeology.” I replied. “Come with me! Come!” said to me and he took me to the middle of a meadow: “Here there is something! Do you feel it?? Go like this!”. He spread his arms out with palms facing the ground and started moving around very slowly. “Do you feel it?”.

At that very moment I understood what was happening. Laughing was out of the question. He was extremely serious and I really felt bad about ruining his enthusiasm … so I imitated him. Me and Otzi. In the middle of the meadow, probing the ground with the palms of our hands. “If my colleagues could see me!!!” and I concentrated not to laugh. “Do you feel the energy? Or maybe you need the stick?”. I was dying inside.

I tried to be as gentle as possible: “Ube, I’m sorry but I don’t feel anything. I think you have to be very sensitive for these things.” He didn’t gave up: “Come here! Feel! Do you feel it?” … I moved my hands around “Mmmm no. And you Ube, do you feel it?”. Silence. “No I don’t feel anything either” and we burst out laughing. “You know Ube, I’m more into “rocks” than hydrogeology”. I could see the disappointment on his face but in a certain way I saved the situation a little.

He told me many stories. About wars. Of Russian prisoners. About his family. He desperately rummaged in a box. “Here it is! Look. That’s me”. He was so proud. “I used to dress up as Otzi on special occasions in the village, more for the children, you know?” The photo depicts a younger Ube, dressed entirely in skins and furs adorned with accessories and tools like those found on the famous mummy … Otzi. Ooh Otzi, you really did my time in Italy.

Un abbraccio

Stef, Popone and Otzi

italiano

My blog has been incomplete for a long time. The last part of my journey was missing. The return “HOME“.
It wasn’t an oversight … I really didn’t want to write this last post, because symbolically it represented the closure of an incredible experience of which I didn’t want an end.

I had crossed the border into Basel. Seeing the familiar number plates, the road signs, hearing Swissgerman …. pffffff I was really home. A lump in my throat. In a certain way I felt proud. Proud of myself. I had succeeded. I had undertaken what 14 months earlier I was not sure I could do: cycling alone, me, a woman alone.

I admired the beautiful Swiss landscapes from the saddle of my bicycle. At the top of my lungs I appreciated the smells of the mountains that have accompanied me since childhood; the smell of the grass, the sound of cowbells, the church bells… home is a lovely place and as I have always said in my posts I am a lucky and privileged person.

At home there are many rules and that thin thread of a sense of freedom that I still felt was completely broken. Wild camping is forbidden and campsites are not exactly cheap. Swiss people are very respectful and reserved. I never received an invitation from anyone; no greetings; no interest; no questions. What a pity. Only once did a curious couple approach me after seeing that Dimitri was with me.

Nature is wonderful and as it should be, everyone wants to enjoy it: many tourists everywhere and you rarely find untouched, wild nature. The country is small and the topography forces us Swiss to live ‘piled on top of each other’.

Reuniting with friends and family was very emotional. I was happy to be home, but at the same time I felt a kind of melancholy. I was/am the same Stefi as always, but in fact many things had changed deep inside me.

For a while I felt like I was inside a glass bubble. I could see what was happening around me but I was distant from it. I felt far from people and situations. I actually felt more connected than ever, but not with that (this) reality.

I knew it was going to be hard to be back in the daily routine and I certainly didn’t expect people around me to understand: such an experience is hard to explain, you really have to live it. A difficult period. The salvation came when I a got a job. A contract of only six months but the team was sooooo good. The subsequent work was equally rewarding with kind and extremely understanding people … a real blessing! Sooo thankful.

You may be wondering: “OK thanks, but why write in your blog now??”
… well … because … SHE IS AROUND again!

italiano

Winter was coming and time was running out. It is in the Cordoba province that I decided to reach my parents’ house in Faido on my bicycle from a point within Europe … spontaneously I bought a flight ticket to Amsterdam, Netherlands.

My family and friends knew of my new plan only when I send my GPS position with my satellite transmitter, as soon as I landed in the old continent … I like this kind of surprise twist.

Only Anneloes and Adrian knew about my arrival in Netherlands. I met the lovely and funny couple in Ushuaia (and then again in Cochrane). They were riding to Santiago de Chile and they have also been on a 3-week cruise in the Antarctica …. I was so jealous!

I arrived exhausted in the evening … it was a relief to see friendly faces after a nightmare flight. While Anneloes was taking care of me, Adrian was preparing my bicycle. Thank you my friends!

When I started this trip I categorically excluded Europe … probably because one years ago I had others needs. I wanted to start in a place different of my home, I wanted to get away from everything that was familiar to me. This is why I started in Georgia. But now, after 13 months on the road, it seemed to me interesting to end the journey here and to experiment how I would have looked at “my” reality.

I should admit that I was positively surprised … we know: in Europe at the moment there is a social crises, but despite this I had generally positive experiences. Netherland is really a very nice, very green, very clean and … very flat country.

The cycle paths are fantastic. You can travel for kilometers in the countryside submerged by nature, or straights along the highway,  but never happened to find myself in the middle of a busy road.

People are kind and helpful. Like the lovely Marja. She asked me if I needed help and, if I wanted, she could accompanied me for a stretch: “Sure, it would be a pleasure!”. She explained me about architecture, history, uses and customs of Dutch people … we rode about 20 km together.

Preparation zero (as usual) … not having internet it was difficult for me to download the maps necessary to navigate. Marja was the one who saved me. Thanks to her paper maps I could make a sketch of the path that I had to take … it worked out very well. In this way I rode through Netherlands. Thank you dear Marja!

Although there are no more borders, I noticed quite quickly when I entered Belgium. Everything was a little more neglected, the gardens were not perfect and flowered like the Dutch ones and the attention to aesthetics (architectural and also personal) was lower … in other words, it seemed to me that the Belgians are more easy-going.

For the second time during this trip I decided to try the warmshowers hospitality. I ended in a goat farm in Borlon. Geraldine and her family are just amazing and I had a funny stay there.

Is the goat winking at me? Aaah noooo, it is for what is hanging behind me!

Gaston and the little horse … Ehi guys a bit of privacy please…

Geraldine takes care of bout 30 goats, milks them and makes delicious cheeses. The family has a very simple lifestyle and produce practically almost everything they need … even delicious beers.

I was enjoying peaceful, nice, relaxing rides … I had the impression to be on holiday!

Even Luxembourg and France were pleasant surprises. In France, in the beautiful camping of La Croix du Bois Sacker, the owners offered me the two nights I spent there: “We too want to give our little contribution to your trip!” … an adorable and great-hearted family. MERCI beaucoup.

I noticed that at my passage people laughed, maybe because of my faded and worn clothes, the shoes that had better times and the bicycle loaded with bags covered with dust and patches … sure, in the midst of so much elegance and attention to the physical appearance my passage didn’t go unnoticed. I didn’t care … how could I care? I had almost accomplished what one year ago to me seemed unreachable!

I was in Alsace … I was very close to Basel, where live my sister and her family … difficult to explain the excitement and happiness at the thought of hugging my loved ones … I think it was the adrenaline that made me practically fly on my bicycle.

And the star of this trip? I think it enjoyed quite much: sunny and hot days, a lot of countryside, mice to chew everywhere (yes, it is a murder) and  long sleep in the fresh grass … do you think it was suffering?

I would define the European route as a Sunday ride: beautiful, easy, pleasant and relaxing. Thanks Europe it has been a pleasant time … but wait a moment… yes, something is missing: my home country! To the swiss ride I’ll dedicate my next post.

Un abbraccio

Catwoman, Dimitri the murder and some chewed mice

italiano

I was in the heart of Argentina. An area very little beaten by cyclists.  At my passage people looked at me with amazement, wide eyes, smiles, greetings and encouragement. I seemed to relive what I lived in Central Asia, but here I had a huge advantage: I speak Spanish … I could converse with people, respond to their curiosity and exchange friendly chatter. I really enjoyed every stops in the little  villages.

Yes, the landscape was boring … but I liked it. I liked the people. I liked to imagine the life there in the middle of the “campo” (fields) 100 years ago. Big houses, long, straight roads, the abandoned railway, little schools in the middle of nowhere. Simple, humble and genuine life. Freedom.

I was amazed by the extent of the crops, the amount of hectares of land and the unimaginable production of soybean, wheat and cereals. Argentina has 42’000’000 inhabitants and produces an amount of these raw materials that can feed up to 100’000’000 persons.  Despite this … unfortunately and incredibly … a part of the population is suffering malnutrition … why? Politic. Money. Power.

After the flat Pampa province I entered in the Cordoba region. Finally some topography. People were really friendly but …. geeeez! Sometimes it was difficult to understand their accent. People were calling me with any type of nickname: flaca (tiny), gordi (fatty), madre (mother), niña (baby), hija (daughter), negra (blacky), chica (girl), loca (crazy), muchacha (girl) … . At the end  I didn’t know my name anymore.

Beautiful forests, rivers, eucalyptus trees with silver leaves that perfumed the air with a refreshing aroma and …  rain, rain, rain. 24 days without seeing the sun. 21 wet, rainy days. 234% of humidity. Curly hair. Even the locals were tired.

Despite the rain and the high humidity Carla, a young woman, was washing her car … “crazy, who is washing the car with this weather? …” I tough while I was riding in front of her house … well, guess what? … 2 amazing days with a wonderful family. “I will miss you  till the sky” said the little Joaquin, Carla’s son, when I left.

Not only the encounter with Carla was weird: I wanted to reach the northest part of the province but the weather was just horrible. What to do? Generally I follow my instict but for the first time during this trip I was really torn on what to do … I threw the coin. Head: continue toward north (rain and fog). Cross: heading eastward (toward Buenos Aires).

… Head …”Nooooooooo! Ok, I throw it again” (actually I knew what I wanted! ahahaha) … Head … “Mmmmmerda! Ok, once again” … Head … “Ahahahah WTF! Ok, the last one and I follow the result” … Head … 4 Heads … What is the probabilty to get 4 times head? 12.5% … I was not motivated at all to continue toward north but I trusted the coin … guess what? … 2 amazing day in a beautiful, incredible villa with two amazing souls.

I really would like to tell you about  A L L  the magic encounters I had in Cordoba and Santa Fe provinces but, as usual,  it is not possible in few lines …

Guido, Julia, Fatime, Meli, Anita, Anibal, Cacho, Guillermo, Lua, Carla, Abril, Joaquin, Maria, Carlos, Raquel, abuelita Eva, Renzo, Daniela, Coty, all the firefighters of Tio Pujio, Mario, Alexis, Carla, Leo, Marcos, Silvina, German, Sergio, Alejandra, police officers Romero and Rossi, Silvina, Alicia, Fabio, Martina, Pablo, the girl of the fry shop that offered me the lunch, the baker that offered me a dulce de leche cake … ok, ok, I stop. For you are just names, for me are smiles, laughter, cries, hugs, warmth, affection, generosity, stories, curiosity … GRACIAS.

I have mixing feelings … I’m living an incredible experience … I’m happy to embrace my loved ones, but … how will I return to my daily life?

I’m not yet home and I’m already planning my next trip … but there is a problem: I have a couple of candidate destinations … which one choose first?? … I think I’ll throw the coin.

Un abbraccio

Stef, Dimitri and 4 Heads

 

italiano

I was happy to leave that part of Chile. Believe me or not but the air was heavy there, in Futaleufù … Beautiful nature and the valley is just stunning, but have you ever experienced to “feel” a bad energy in a place? Not only the energy was dark but even the weather: cold, grey and a lot of rain … I wanted to escape from there.

I was riding fast with a big smile on my face toward the Argentinian border. As usual I crossed in the other country without problem. I stopped in a little village to buy some bread and finally happened something that for looong time I was looking for: eye contact, big smiles and short chatting. People were polite and very friendly … I was positive, the new chapter was promising … and dulcis in fundo: the weather was great! (at least for few days).

I stopped in beautiful camping places, empty because the end of the tourist season. I had very interesting conversations about people, education, politics … like with Gustavo, a young gaucho, owner of more than 2000 hectares … yes 2000 …

I pitched my tent below an incredible 30 m high tree. I looked 360° around me. Mountains, high picks, forests, a green crystalline river, horses, cows, sheep … I was imagining Gustavo telling to his son: “Look my son, all what do you see here will be yours”. Like in a movie. Incredible.

Everywhere I was stopping people were curios, talkative and very friendly. Laughs from the streets, loud conversations (yes the Argentines are very loud), colors, sweet smell from the panaderias (bakery), life. It seemed that my soul was resurrecting from a long hibernation.

After the beautiful touristic part of La Ruta de los sietes Lagos I decided to move away from the Cordillera. I was tired about rain, cold, wind … it was from Ushuaia that I had most of the time this kind of conditions! I officially abandoned my original plan: reach Colombia, or Peru … or Bolivia.

I was a bit sad but as I was thinking for China: those country will not move from there, or not?… at least not dramatically in the next few years … (yes, I’m a geologist). I will visit those countries in another trip. So I decided to move quickly eastwards.

Reached the warm and sunny Neuquen (where I met   l o v e l y   people) I accepted the proposition of three exquisite young veterinarians I met in the 7 Lagos region few days before: a lift from Neuquen till Santa Rosa, trough the Ruta del Desierto. Let’s go! (no no, don’t tell me it’s cheating …I call it audience assistance … everyone lives, makes decisions and creates his own trip as best he likes it).

We had fun in the camioneta with Danisa, Guadalupe, Ezequiel, Choco the dog and of course Dimitri … packed like hell, with a dog and a cat … in the middle of a desert … so funny … like in a movie. Gracias chicos! Son  d i v i n o s!

I enter in the Pampa province. I was ready to have boring, monotonous, flat rides there but … cabooooom! I had so much fun. Cars, camionetas, huge trucks were respecting me in a way that I never experienced before, but most important: people were   a m a z i n g.

Left: Adriana, Lujan, Ema and Fabricio. Right: Daniel and Gustavo. Thank you my dear friends from Winifreda!

I was sure that in those little villages in the middle of the flat Pampa I would have spent only one night in each locality …well I was wrong.

I met such lovely people … it was difficult to leave them. Simple people with a great, generous heart. They were not used to see a traveler on a bicycle. They were so surprized that in all crossed villages between Santa Rosa and Rio Cuarto I was interviewed by the local TV channels.

In Tosquita happened something magic …C H I L D R E N! Finally children!!! A six years old girl: “Why do you sleep in a tent in the park and you don’t go at your home?“. “Well, there is not a hotel here and my home is really very far”. Silence. Open mouth. She run away screaming to her friends: “Hey guys come here! This woman is sleeping in a tent because her house is very far!!“.  A dozen of children surrounded me. They were asking me all about my tent and the gas stove.

In the evening came some teenager. They were curious and asked me lots of interesting questions … I told them, that as theme, I come from a very small village and that it is true that everything is possible … They brought me mate, cakes and a delicious soup. So lovely!

Almost one year has passed … I think that I don’t realize yet what I have done … I mean: I was just riding a bicycle, everybody can do that! But I had the courage to follow my instinct, my heart, my needs … and I hope that those lovely teeny from Tosquita will never forget my story.

One year. I scroll my pictures and I see again all those incredible places and fantastic people … a sort of melancholy arise but on my face there is a big smile and my eyes are full of tears of joy. Wow!

This year has been   f a n t a s t i c.     I n c r e d i b l e.     U n f o r g e t t a b l e.   Almost surreal. My year has been like in a movie.

Un abbraccio

Stef & Dimitri