Ever since leaving Amsterdam to the 789 hitchhiking festival in the Ukraine, I didn’t stop traveling and I hitched around 8000 kilometer. I was ready for a new adventure though and wanted to give HitchBiking a try, not with a foldable bike but with the new mountain-bike that I was given in Barcelona.
My goal was to arrive in Antwerpen within 2 days, and after a short stay, to bike the last 160 kilometers to Amsterdam. The first two rides were perfect and I got close to the border with France at around six in the evening, leaving Barcelona at two in the afternoon.
So why not bike across the border, as I was on a not-so-good hitch-spot anyway? I assembled the bike, got the wheels together, the seat back up and my bags on the new bike-rack, that I had bought especially for this purpose. Just 20 meters on the road, the unfortunate happened. I was in shock looking at the front wheel axle split in two.
F***
What else to do then dump it right there and stick up the thumb again? It felt like abandoning ship but some hours later I was way into France -Â tired and cold as the temperature had dropped almost 15 degrees since Barcelona. I waited 20 minutes for my Moroccan savior. He picked me up, gave me a place to sleep and fed me with breakfast before putting me back on the highway the next morning.
Three rides later I was 1000 kilometers further, on the ring of Brussels, in the middle of the highway; cars passing by in the dark with 120 kilometers an hour. It was cold and rainy. As Antwerpen was just 35 kilometers further all I could do was think back to my bike. It was as if my bike was telling me: if you leave me on the side of the road… please, enjoy my sweet revenge…
But my legs were not as broken as the bike wheels. After inner consultations, I headed back some kilometers towards the airport where IÂ got quickly picked up to receive a home-delivery. The nice coincidence? The driver, from the Basque countries, studied and lived in the same small city as I did in England, and we even slept in the same dorm…
Starday (the name of the bike), I do miss you.
