My name is Afghanistan

The approach of Simona and Danielle on a cold morning in Tajikistan was exciting. Ilona and I were heading south and the awesome Italian duo, north. There was no need to pull off onto the shoulder to exchange stories and advice – we were the only ones around. No cars, no people, the wasteland even devoid of livestock – just the four of us trying our luck out on the Pamir plateau.

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Slow leak, slow week


A week of cycling in southern Kazakhstan and it became clear – I was caught in the middle. Stuck between sticking to a schedule, and pouncing on unforeseen opportunities as they presented themselves. Between challenging myself, and making concessions for the things that challenged me. Between celebrating my accomplishments, and learning from and laughing at my oversights.

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