That’s what the desert looks like

The Oasis Siwa is located some 500 kilometres west of Cairo. That’s the region we spent ten days out in the desert, enyoing the silence, the delicious food as well as watching the stars at night sitting on a bonfire. There was no internet – luckily.

I can highly recommend detoxing in the desert. A couple of pictures:

From Copenhagen to Berlin by bike – 19 pictures

Whenever I enter the basement my lovely yellow bicycle looks at me with puppy eyes and says: “Hey partner, I wanna go for a ride again, pleeeeaaase!”

The truth is: my tour bike has not been moved ever since I came home from the North Cape last September. So it’s high time to hop on the saddle again. I’ve chosen Copenhagen-Berlin, a route which is very popular in summer and flat like a pancake – perfect for the opening of the season. Denmark in May is absolutely marvellous and I guess this applies to Northern Germany, too. I can’t wait to “fly” across the mild spring inhalling the air filled with blossoming flowers and trees. It’s about the flow.

> That’s what I wrote ath the end of April 2017.

Now I’m on the road. “A flash light”:

Three – two – one – blossoming! In the countryside it smells so intensely that I was flashed after inhaling for a half an hour. The sunrays hit the bright yellow fields of rape while the larks never get tired singing their melodies – welcome to Danish spring. It’s magic. If it’s mild and sunny.

Two nights ago, the temperature dropped below zero. Next morning, while sitting on the saddle my butt felt rather frosty. The weather has changed dramatically: now it’s ice cold, the wind is blowing often quite heavily, and the rain falls mostly horizontally which means: Straight. Into. My. Face.

It was a rough day but after six hours I stopped at a cozy little hotel, meanwhile in Northern Germany, with an extremely friendly staff. I’m their only guest and they fixed me a lavish dinner. So in fact I have no reason to complain.

> Another jump forward:

Today, I arrived safely in Berlin. Three half days warming up (along the Roskilde Fjord) followed by the seven day tour were awesome in many ways. I’ll do it again. Soon.


Click on the first picture and it will increase its size. As of then you should move the cursor to the little black button “>” which appears on the right hand side of every picture. Click yourself through my trip withouth sweating.

From Berne to North Cape by bike – 25 pictures

From Berne to North Cape by bike – 25 pictures

– June 3th 2016, I left Berne behind me in the pouring rain;
– August 31th, I arrived at the North Cape, it’s a sunny morning.

After 90 days and 5500 kilometers on the road, I reached “The Top of the World” as the Norwegians advertise their site in the Arctic. I cycled across parts of Switzerland, France, Germany, The Netherlands, Denmark, Sweden and Norway. A long lasting dream of mine came through. It was even more precious than I expected. Take a look at the pictures and you know why.

Click on the first picture and it will increase its size. As of then you should move the cursor to the little black button “>” which appears on the right hand side of every picture. Click yourself through my trip withouth sweating.

For 20 years this bike trip had been on my bucket list. Few things in my life have been as rewarding and fulfilling, #ToNorthCape2016 is my very own “Road Movie”.

For those of you who understand German: I’ve published a couple of stories about my trip. Why don’t you start with the “thriller”. But watch out, it’s a longread!

My new baby from the desert – or from China

New Year’s Eve
in Essaouira/Maroc: Totally relaxed I stroll through the Bazar looking for a teapot. Even though I have become a heavy tea drinker ever since I had lived in London I still do not own such a piece. The Maroccans are as addicted as me so I assumed that my search would be rather easy.

Booom! – a teapot appears, it simply jumps at me: a silver-grey coloured, slightly dented example with a rugged look, a nice shape and yes – character! I already saw that beauty sitting back home in my kitchen. The voice of a man pulls me back to the narrow street. It belongs to the owner of the little store and within two and a half seconds he has started “the full tourist program” explaining in three languages that this teapot is a very, very, very special edition, you know, more than 50 years old, you know, and originally used by the Berbers in the desert, you know. Then the program stopps and he mentions a price – surely a “special price” only for me, you know.

I take the teapot gently in my hands and start my program: “See, just by holding this beautifully made piece I can tell you that many decades ago, Boujir Abdullah Rahmani, a prince of the Sahara owned it. He was a wise man, tall, highly respected and the father of 43 kids. He usually drank tea out of this pot while collecting his thoughts at night, after he went hunting with his falcons or just before he set off for new adventures.” I pause.

The shop owner looks at me pretty puzzled. “Ok, half the price and it’s yours.”

I pay and he wraps the teapot into an old newspaper. As I reach the door he shouts: “What do you do for living?”

I stop and turn around: “See, I support the Maroccan economy. And sometimes I tell stories. Just like you.”

He smiles. “By the way, there’s no Boujir Abdullah Rahmani.”

I’m counting slowly to five and switch on a serious face. Finally I reply: “I know.”

For a moment, we are looking at each other and then, all of a sudden, we both burst out laughing.

P.S.  It is easily possible that this teapot was produced a few months ago in China, put into some chemical liquid to get the patina look, and was then smashed on the floor in order to be dented. But you know what: I don’t care. imagination ist stronger than reality. So I stick to the story of Boujir Abdullah Rahmani and I just love drinking tea out of my new baby from the desert. No doubt, I can feel the spirit of the prince and the Sahara, too, you know.