On Bike Touring

In the last couple of years, I’ve been experimenting with bike touring. The idea of lugging everything I needed on a bike while exploring remote locations in France felt appealing. After a few fully loaded test trips last year, it became clear to me that I was hooked.

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly what makes this whole ordeal fun. It’s as simple as this: you go from point A to point B, regardless of what happens during the day. Hours of the day are spent pedalling, struggling to climb hills, then rolling down at a speed that makes your eyes water. And after a whole day of physical activity, you reach a campsite where you set up your tent, shower, wash your clothes, eat, and rest for a couple of hours before going to bed. The whole time, your mind is focused on basic survival: where to sleep, where to eat, and how long until the next coffee break. Once those needs are met, your mind is free to wander — while your body aches.

Then, there are those fleeting moments, when you feel the gentle breeze on a slight downhill slope, surrounded by green hills, or when a breathtaking abbey suddenly appears, having stood there for centuries — it just feels magical. There’s also a sense of pride in lugging my four panniers and handlebar bag across towns, hills, and shores, whether on paved roads or rocky trails. A sense of freedom and autonomy, mixed with a feeling of camaraderie when you meet fellow bike tourers.

In the end, I think the appeal lies in the challenge of preparing for bad weather, mechanical failures, and an aching body, all while savoring fleeting moments of bliss and the sense of achievement that comes at the end of each day. What began as an experiment has now become an integral part of who I am.