Shifting Gears

Bill Conry
In the few weeks I’ve been back on American soil, I have fielded far more questions from my friends and family about the trip than I did prior to my departure.  Whether it be the 20 lbs I shaved from my frame or my new facial hair style, the moment I run into somebody I haven’t seen since I shipped out they’re immediately reminded of the excursion in which I partook.  After the typical wise cracks about my weight (one colleague went as far as to compare me to Jared from the Subway commercials), they’re quick to inquire about my experience.  Most frequently I am asked, “How was it?” followed by a series of superlative queries such as, “What country had the best food?  And “What was your scariest moment?”

While it’d be easy to respond that the trip was “good,” Greek food is second to no other and that my life flashed before my eyes when I nearly collided head on with a tour bus during a descent in France, I would not be doing the trip justice.  You see, this trip shouldn’t be viewed as a series of separate countries and events, but instead one large expedition.  Each hill I topped, each local I met, and each native dish I sampled had a synergistic effect on each another creating one epic journey, which dwarfs the sum of its parts. 

Only when the thirteen countries through which I rode are juxtaposed with one another am I able to identify the overarching themes of the trip.  Far and away the most intriguing and enjoyable aspect of the trip, consistent across all countries, was cycling through small towns that rarely see Americans and do not speak English.  In contrast to visiting populous cities where tourism is common, I was able to garner a representative snapshot of what life is like in those particular towns and regions, which I found quite fascinating. Ninety nine percent of the villages and cities we stopped in I would have never visited in my lifetime had they not been part of my cycling route.  I’m blessed to have had the opportunity to view firsthand how people live in those areas and immerse myself within their culture.

Not on your typical "must see" list

Not a bad place to pass through

Throughout the continent I found the edible aspects of culture to be the most interesting and eye opening.  We primarily dined at cafes and restaurants off the beaten path where we had a monolingual waitress serve us traditional cuisine – it wasn’t possible to throw in the towel and have Dominos delivered or make a Taco Bell run.   I came to realize that with the U.S. and cosmopolitan cities as the exceptions, it’s the norm in most parts of the world for the fare options to strictly align with the geography – in Italy you eat Italian, Albania it’s Albanian, etc. It was always an adventure to try to decipher menu items and attempt to ask questions about the dishes.  More likely than not I’d wind up with a delicious meal – something I’ve never eaten before – which served to broaden my horizons from both cultural and culinary perspectives.  I can’t wait to put on my chef hat and whip up some dishes from the road, there’s so many to choose from. 

Wasn't Michelin starred, yet still delicious!

First time eating bull meat

Additionally, this trip caused me to buy into the notion that people are people no matter where in the world you are.  Despite the thickness of the language barrier, the universal communication tactics of a smile or a wave were enough to have someone warm up to me.  Just as my parents taught me at a young age, politeness and charm make people want to help you.  Furthermore, the tour led me to believe that the world population consists primarily of upstanding citizens.  Whether we were asking for directions, seeking leads on a campsite, or requesting a water refill, almost every person we encountered was willing to go above and beyond to assist us.  They would not feel satisfied until we got our bearings, had an idea of where we should set up our tents or procured ample water.  Random acts of kindness were so commonplace that by the end of the trip nothing fazed me. For instance, in Croatia a Japanese tourist gave me his bottle of cold water when I was on the verge of dehydration sickness and in Genoa the cleaning lady at our hotel chased me down the street as we were leaving with my camera case.

Moreover, throughout the entire trip I never once felt threatened by anyone.  It’d be naïve of me to suggest that I was immune to crime, however we never had a run-in despite camping adjacent to major roads and leaving our bikes unattended from time to time.  My faith in humanity has officially been restored!

Which way to Lisbon?

Glad we didn't have any unwanted visitors while camping in an abandoned house

 Another question I’ve been fielding a lot is, “How does it feel to be back?”  As I predicted, I have mixed feelings on continuing my sedentary lifestyle in the States.  Sure it’s nice to have more than two t-shirt options while dressing myself, partake in a “football” conversation centered around Tom Brady not Cristiano Ronaldo, or order a coffee to go without getting strange looks, but part of me misses the constant action of my nomadic adventure.  I never experienced boredom in my nine weeks on the road – it’s tough when every day welcomed fresh scenery, people, and challenges.  While I certainly recognize the benefits of being settled, I’m already getting a bit antsy and may have to increase my road trip count for the coming year.  Come to think of it my 2012 wedding schedule should fulfill that need.

Hard to be bored with sights like this

There are countless people to thank for helping me in numerous aspects of this trip; here’s a non-comprehensive list to start:

Friends, Family, Colleagues for their unwavering support of this trip before, during and afterward.  I was quite apprehensive to hear the reactions when I told those close to me that I’m quitting my job to bike across a continent.  It was encouraging that every single person I spoke with was behind me and supportive of the idea. 

Trevor and Charlie at Working Bikes Cooperative in Chicago for teaching me essential maintenance skills, without which I never would have made it across the continent.

Joe, Evan and the rest of the REI Lincoln Park bike staff for their expertise, guidance and ability to answer so many dumb questions without becoming irritated.

Everybody who donated to the World Bicycle Relief on our behalf.

Kellen and Megan for putting up with my jokes throughout the trip and my illness spawned grumpiness for the length of the Dalmatian coast.  Oh, and also being fun, adventurous, and generally awesome!

Marcos, Patri, Paula, Alexandra, and Catarina for allowing us to crash with them in Zaragoza, Madrid, and Lisbon and being the most welcoming and accommodating hosts we could have asked for.  Kellen and I agree that one of the most fun parts of the trip was staying with locals to capture how they really live.  I don’t know how the Iberian Peninsula handles their social schedule…I’m still tired!

In closing, life’s too short to have regrets and while it’s easy to become complacent with the status quo I challenge you all to roll the dice and take a chance. You’re more likely to regret the actions you didn’t take versus the ones you did.  No matter how daunting or ridiculous your ambition you should take a stab at it – you’ll be happy you did.