Same same but different

I’m back in Spain after more than 2,5 months traveling thru Australia and some days in England. It was a new sensation coming “home”, as I have decided that this here is not my home anymore. There was no welcome committee, no one had asked my arrival time… that’s the thing, if you decide to move on with your life, everyone else does too and that’s good! I know my friends’ life’s here as it used to be mine as well, so I knew what they’ve been doing.

Well, I’m lucky to report that my bike arrived in one piece, 13 flights and no damage; I think that’s worth it to mention!

One of my working colleges and friends picked me up from the bus station and gave me a lift to another friend’s house and on Sunday I hit the well known highways with my bike, riding with 2 friends after a long time. And now I can say: I got faster. We rode for 4h on my flat favorite course and I felt great, despite the last 10min effort where I was pretty tired yet. A 30min brick run and a refreshing leg icing in the Mediterranean Sea afterwards. Damn, what a difference to the Pacific Ocean! But hey, the Pacific doesn’t provide the icy part ;)

That was the Sunday, on Monday I went back on the road with my bike, 4,5h this time on my own. A kind of rolling hills course which got me to a place where I’ve been only once before and which reminded me of some important things:

2010. My first year training with a coach, Jaime. After 3 IM distance races I had decided to change something, because you can’t expect better results using the same recipes. The first weeks went well, until I got tired and started to struggle. And I made so many mistakes. I started to question myself and the training, I was tired and unmotivated and every time I couldn’t ride or run the paces I was meant to, I was overwhelmed. Too many days I looked at my plan in the morning and I knew already that I wouldn’t be able to do what was written there. And so it was; the famous self fulfilling prophecy. And the worst mistake: I didn’t talk with my coach. He had no idea about what was going on in my head and heart; he just saw the training resumes which weren’t very amazing. I expected him to tell me something, without acting by myself. I think I wasn’t prepared badly last year, but the result of the doubts and the hesitating was a mental break down in the race where I walked the last 10k. But I finished, crying on the finish line like so many times before in my training and happy that it was over. That the season was over.

One of these struggling weekends my friend Tarne was visiting Marbella, she brought her bike to train and I perfectly remember the Saturday: I was supposed to swim and run and she wanted to ride. I felt terrible. I wanted to ride with her, my plan said a different thing and again I thought I was doing bad if I went riding. At the end we went riding together, talking during 4h or more about riding, training and the life. She gave me some motivation back this day because I noticed that I was not riding too badly. I had to forget to think about what I was doing, or better what I was or wasn’t able to do. The point where we turned was the same point where I found myself this Monday.

On Monday stopped up there, remembering this day last year and all the tears I’d cried. And I was feeling so happy this time. It was a beautiful day and standing at this same point I became aware of the changes I’ve made. Not in the way that everything was bad last year and is perfect now. It was just the same place, the same bike, the same weather and the same person, but so different.

beautyful Cadiz

The big change I was remembered of this moment was my training, the results of it and the communication with my coach. I guess I had to learn to be trained. I had to learn to trust him and myself. I had to learn to verbalize my doubts and questions and to accept the answers. I had to learn to enter the pain box and to enjoy it. And I did.

It’s like with other things I wrote about in this blog: at the moment you start trying and just let life happen, it works. And it's about thinking what you're able to do, not what you're not able to do, the question if the glass is half full or half empty. Mine is half full ;)

 As Jaime said to me one day: you need to trust yourself, you can do it. Thank you coach!

37h

I’m still in a commonwealth country, but on the other side of the world, Europe has me back. It was a long way to go; at least it felt longer than the way to Australia. Getting up at 6am I drove the McKenzie car to Brisbane, where I met Luke’s sister who took me to the airport. From there at 1.15pm to Sydney and at 4.30pm I left Australia direction Bangkok, 9h flight. I did not sleep on that one, just tried to stay awake to be able to sleep on the next flight. That one was not too bad, I had a free seat between me and the girl next to me, so we could relax a bit better and I could stand up whenever I wanted. Had some funny chat with the stewardesses and it felt quite quick that we got to Bangkok. I had a bit of a flashback on Bangkok airport, not a long time ago I’ve been there…

The next one was much longer, 13h but felt even longer. I slept quite a lot and didn’t see many movies, but I couldn’t move too much, due to a sleeping couple next to me (remember: don’t pick a window seat when you travel long). I laughed about myself at the end of the flight, I have had 13h to watch a movie, but I wasn’t able to finish it, because we were landing quite quickly ;) Was a good one: the tourist (or maybe it was not so good, my mind was just too tired to distinguish?)

Anyway, after a bus ride and a taxi I got to Tarne’s house, dropped my bags, took a shower and went to the center, I haven't had a big plan, just wander around and stay awake, which was difficult already. Nero caffe is my best friend these days ;)

I jumped off the tube at Oxford Circus and started to walk. Again no shopping but many shops I entered. I love London for its little special shops, of course you find the big stores as well, but I’ve never seen this big variety of small, cute, special not mainstream shops packed with fashion, jewelers and accessories. I kept walking, bumped into Camden town without willing it (more shops), then Piccadilly Circus and Trafalgar Square. The last time I was in London I haven’t seen any of these places, but maybe my travel experience gave me a good intuition to find the right sights. Next to Trafalgar Square I entered the National Gallery, my goal was: stay awake until 4pm, a short nap and then a run with Tarne, dinner and hit the hay.

Cool and decided to develop my cultural knowledge I entered the National Gallery, grabbed a map and went into the first of fifty something rooms stuffed with paintings. And there came the question: what is art? Many of the paintings in the National Gallery reminded me a bit of the typical Bavarian forest landscape with a dear on it… I just wandered around, looking here and there and studying the ones I kind of liked. Well and then, in room number thirty something I thought: wow, I know that one, a van Gogh, more than one actually. But the one I knew were the sunflowers, a famous piece of linen with yellow flowers.

Between van Gogh, Rembrandt and Monet I started to feel a bit dizzy, well, actually not a bit, I could have sat down on one of the banks and passed out without any problem. But I didn’t. I was just admiring the museums’ guards. They are sitting in room for I have no idea how many hours and just observe and prevent that someone touches the paintings. They reinforced my will to stay awake, I think they were almost as tired as I was, but couldn’t even move around! It felt a bit like an Ironman marathon, when every part of your body is hurting already but you keep going, because you’re decided to get to the finish line. My finish line was 4pm. And I did it. Well, I went almost to every room of the Gallery, one of them made me feel really bad, a modern artist whose name I can’t remember, had painted heaps of circles on a big wall, black circles on white ground, looking at it the circles started to move and chaise each other, that was the point when I decided to get some water and head back home. And I did so.

I miss Australia. I’m excited to see my friends again, but I miss these smiling people and the obligatory question: Hi, how are you today? And the answer “oh, I’m fine/tired/good/whatever, how are you?” Over here the most you get is “hi” and no smile. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why people like Australia so much. It is a happy country. And happy countries make unhappy people happy.

On Thursday morning at the pool, just finished a 100m set I got pushed by a woman yelling at me “you hit me!!” I had overtaken her and touched her slightly. And I realized again: I’m a quite happy, positive person and many people aren’t. I guess somehow I mastered the part of all the self development books that say: see the challenge, not the problem.

I’m going to face lots of challenges in the next weeks. Once I get to Germany I’ll have to find out where to stay, what do to and how to move on. Since I touched European ground I start to look forward to have something like a home again. Almost 3 months living out of a backpack was fun, but I think being able to say “I’m coming home” will be a nice feeling as well. But as I said before: it’s not important where you are, it’s the people surrounding you making you feel home. But hey, a wardrobe is a nice accessory too?

The end of a big journey and the beginning of a new one

I’m sitting @ Brisbane Airport, after a long travel thru Australia and to myself. Right now it feels quite unreal that I’m leaving, this place has become home for a while and I don’t realize how far it is from where I go to.

Since I’ve come back from Cairns I spend some days in Noosa and on Fraser Island. I missed out to see the Whitsunday Islands, so at least I went to Fraser, world heritage listed and with 123km length and 22km at its widest point the largest sand island in the world. I was lucky to get a small group of 17 people to go across the island in a 4wheel drive bus. We were also very lucky with our tour guide, a professional photographer (http://www.petermeyerphotography.com/) who lives on the island for 15 years already and got us to spots other tourist don’t go to.

lake mckenzie

driving on clouds

maheno wrack

2 days of beautiful nature, crystal clear lakes to swim and heaps of bumpy rides on the big bus. After these 2 days I spent the night in Hervey Bay to see my friend Jules race (yes the one of the tiger).

The last days were quite intense, yesterday night we had an unexpected lovely dinner at Jules’ house with a couple of friends and some good laughs, after a day on Noosa beach and last Australian fast tanning sun.

My luggage is checked already (by the way, I am a lucky person, I called Qantas about a week ago to make sure that they’d apply the British airways luggage fee and not the Qantas one), they put a remark in my booking and at the end there was such a confusion I didn’t got charged at all for my bike. Just for the record, international Qantas luggage policy could have cost me close to 1000AU$, in the best way 175AU$ for the national flight plus 40BP for the long flight to London, plus would have had to recollect and checked again. They just smiled and said, “Okay, luggage goes directly to London”. Good sign for the travel ;)

When I arrived here I was tired, confused and unsecure about what would happen during my stay. I didn’t know a lot about this country I had chosen for my journey. Today, 74 days later I’d call this place part of my heart, a second home maybe which was always good willing and kind. I am aware that I’m not only lucky with my luggage, but with so many different things:

I am lucky to know people who welcomed me with open arms and lend me their house to stay, I can’t say thank you often enough Luke and Amanda!

I’m lucky to have taken this opportunity to travel on my

own during 2,5months.

I’m lucky to have met so many lovely people, most of them I mentioned in my posts. It’s not about expanding the facebook friends list; some of them have made their way into my heart, in their very own ways and I hope to see them very soon.

I am lucky catch up with some of these guys soon in Germany, in Stuttgart, Frankfurt, Roth and some places I still ignore. And not a long time to go, I’m counting the days already.

I made my journey; it was MY journey, filled with joy, sadness, smiles and great moments. I realized that you don’t need a lot to be happy. Actually, when I packed my backpack yesterday I thought that I still have too many things in there. 16kg plus the bike bag, but still too much. I haven’t bought many things here, a couple of cushion cases for my future couch, 2 t-shirts and a pair of thongs. That’s all. I could have seen a lot more of Australia, but my journey wasn’t so much about filling a list with destinations, but live the moment and be happy, prove myself and be content just with who I am.

I can’t tell where or how, but I found myself and I’m happy and good with what I found. It was a long way, I got upset and angry I cried, I laughed, trained hard, said hello and goodbye many times, I danced, ran, cycled, swam, dived and played in the sun. Somewhere in between it just happened. Maybe in the moment I stopped looking for it.

Until the moment I’ve taken 12 flights, 3 to go, spent almost 70h on planes when I’ve arrived in Spain. I’ve slept in 13 different beds (that sounds weird), I’ve packed my bike 8 times, unpacked it 7, logged 16 dives, had 3 really long nights, cycled 2300km, ran 400km and swam over 100km (and that’s pretty bad compared with my friends from Noosa). I lost my fear of flying (just proven on some heavy turbulence) and the brakes on my bike work a lot less than they did when I’ve arrived. And I’ve now been to 5 of the 5 continents.

I found out that the person I love most in the world is my brother. I’m a triathlete and a diver. I’m 80% German, 20% Spanish, I love veggies, coffee, mango smoothies and got addicted to sweet potatoes. And I love Australia.

Now I’m on my way back to Europe, can’t name it “home” right now, that’s the new journey that starts once my feet touch the ground in… I don’t even know where it starts. In London? In Malaga? When I start the long drive to Germany? Who knows, somewhere in between.

I’ve lived quite a bit in the McKenzies house, but just a few days ago I read text, posted on their fridge:

When we travel we cast off the labels that normally define us. We can re-evaluate the habits, beliefs and values that are handed down by culture. There is a moment in a good journey when you realize who you are – independently of roles, money, conveniences and comforts. That is the moment when you value yourself as “just” a human being, it is the realization that if you want to flourish, you had better start with a deep valuation of humanity. Travel is consciousness-raising. (Lindsay Oishi 2005)

I think there’s nothing more to add. But no worries, I’ll keep writing!