In October 2021, I cycled from Munich to Glasgow to participate in COP26, while facilitating Climate Fresk workshops on the road. The idea of my trip was to show (and prove to myself) that fighting the climate crisis and raising public awareness are actually joyful and creative adventures. This article is part of a series of publications sharing this experience.
October 31st, Glasgow. It’s the finish line. I covered 1330km with the strength of my not that muscled legs. I’m exhausted, euphoric and hold back tears. Though not for long. In the memories will remain (among others) pictures of my face swollen with fatigue and emotions. I laugh. I cry. I hug people I met five days or minutes ago. I leave a voice message to my partner who stayed in Munich, even though he probably won’t understand a word. The sound system in the background is loud, celebrating the arrival of the cyclists who came from London. I try to share everything I feel without having thought about how I’m actually feeling. I said: I’m proud, I just arrived, I realize what I’ve done is kind of crazy but at the same it is not, you know what I mean? And I am so tired, but I want to keep going because it was so good and oh sorry, I need to go but hey, next cycling adventure we do it together right? Though I really enjoyed that one alone, and… oh ok I have to go, see you soon, bye, love you.
31 days earlier, I started pedalling from our building doorstep in Munich. Knut & Christine, a couple of almost septuagenarians had decided to cycle with me for the first day. To spice up the departure even more, I had an infected wound from a wisdom tooth that had to get removed two days before. Not able to eat a solid breakfast, I was not feeling that confident and definitely wondered whether or not I was crazy.
Starting day 2, I didn’t really ask myself any more questions. Cycling is easy. You hit the pedals. Your smartphone tells you which way to go. That’s it. Just grit your teeth when an SUV or a truck passes you too close, and in a country with bike lanes almost everywhere, this doesn’t happen that often. And above all, it’s really a pleasure. Even in the rain, even against the wind, even uphill, I had fun the whole way. One day after the other, little by little, magic, I ended up in Glasgow.
But if that’s easy, fun, and not that crazy, why then cry at the finish line?
It’s been three months now and with that hindsight, I think that the physical accomplishment was only a part of it.
It was also from achieving what I said I would do. Freeing up, self-financing and organizing 6 weeks of adventures – 4 weeks on the bike, 2 weeks at COP.
It was also from giving so much energy in human relations on the road. I’m not the most social person on earth and I clearly lost some skills in this area after a year and a half of lock-down and remote working. Not only did I slept almost every night at different people’s houses who I didn’t necessarily know, but my project was also to chit-chat about that light topic that is climate change every day, using the Climate Fresk Workshop.
It was from allowing myself to be proud. Which I expressed by breaking down in tears and needing to be hugged by the people around me at that moment. To seek in this gesture their confirmation that Yes girl! You did it, be proud!* Because all by myself, my mind is on repeat with: well done but don’t make a big thing out of it, there are some who go around the world on a bike, swim across the English Channel, or even walk miles and miles to survive. So, you’re sweet, but your month of European cycling? That’s a Sunday walk.
Today, if I compare myself to others, I still don’t think I’ve done anything amazing. However, my horizon of possibilities has changed. I’ve discovered that it’s much bigger and that it can always grow. The hardest part is to try out. Then it (usually) keeps rolling.
And that, well, that’s pretty big.
*Thank you Irma, Alex, Claire, Sébastien, Ludovic, Shalyn, Alex, Chris C., Chris G. and all the others who opened their arms for a moment so that I could add a few tears of joy and pride on their already soaked raincoats.
Les Notes à Béné 