{"id":10351,"date":"2026-09-20T11:33:35","date_gmt":"2026-09-20T11:33:35","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/velomag.eu\/lost-and-found-6500-km-on-two-wheels\/"},"modified":"2026-09-20T11:33:35","modified_gmt":"2026-09-20T11:33:35","slug":"lost-and-found-6500-km-on-two-wheels","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/velomag.eu\/nl\/lost-and-found-6500-km-on-two-wheels\/","title":{"rendered":"Lost and Found: 6,500 km on Two Wheels"},"content":{"rendered":"

Rediscovering the Path: A 6,500 km Cycling Journey<\/strong><\/p>\n

In 2023, I found myself at a crossroads. Living in Perugia, I faced the loss of my job, compelling me to return to my hometown of Piazza Armerina. This period was marked by uncertainty and a profound sense of loss, as the foundations of my daily life seemed to crumble. The pain of this upheaval overshadowed my desire to move forward, and I struggled to find direction.<\/p>\n

After several months of therapy, a deep urge to move emerged within me. I chose to reconnect with something that once brought me immense joy\u2014the bicycle, which I named Phoenix.<\/p>\n

I equipped Phoenix with panniers, a tent, and a sleeping bag, and mapped out a route. The plan was to traverse Italy from south to north and then return.<\/p>\n

Looking at those panniers, I felt they contained my entire life. On one hand, there was the fear of the unknown; on the other, an almost irresistible need to embark on this journey.<\/p>\n

When I set off, I had no idea that this path would transform me. It was merely an attempt to heal from my malaise.<\/p>\n

For a month, I camped wherever possible, mostly riding solo and encountering few people curious about my gear. Then, upon reaching Pisa, I met a tour guide who, before parting ways, said something that encouraged me to share my story with those I would meet along the way.<\/p>\n

I began posting in Facebook groups of the cities I would visit. Messages, invitations, smiles, and stories poured in. I met numerous people and realized that, in one way or another, our struggles connected us. There were also interviews, articles, and small gifts.<\/p>\n

After 6,500 kilometers, traversing 19 out of 20 regions over two and a half months, I returned home with a renewed outlook. A new project emerged: to accompany pilgrims along the Camino de Santiago in Sicily. Being with these individuals taught me to view the road differently: sharing the effort, the silence, the spirituality, and the stories each person carries.<\/p>\n

This journey also led to a book titled “Are you the guy with the bicycle?”, inspired by the question people would ask when they recognized me.<\/p>\n

In the summer of 2024, I took to the bike again, heading to Santiago de Compostela. From Barcelona, I crossed the Pyrenees, reached Lourdes, and then Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, from where I embarked on the French Way.<\/p>\n

I experienced the same freedom discovered during my tour of Italy. I traversed diverse landscapes, met people with different goals and desires, but in the accommodations, I always found the same thing: sharing.<\/p>\n

When I reached the tomb of the apostle Saint James, I was happy, but within that happiness, I also felt a nostalgia for the end of the journey.<\/p>\n

The journey continued with the Mediterranean Jacobean Route, which I completed in Sardinia. After a ten-hour ferry ride from Palermo, I arrived in Cagliari on August 2, 2026. It was already evening. I could have waited until the next day, perhaps that would have been the more sensible choice. But I had learned that, when traveling alone, the sensible choice doesn’t always align with what I feel I must do.<\/p>\n

I unloaded my Trek Marlin 8 and mounted it. The fatigue from the crossing was soon overshadowed by the excitement I felt every time I set off. I pedaled towards Monserrato and Settimo San Pietro, reaching a countryside chapel where I spent my first night on the island.<\/p>\n

The following days took me through the rural and authentic inland of Sardinia, characterized by cultivation, farms, quiet roads, small towns, pastures, and simplicity. The days were hot, the climbs challenging, and the asphalt hard, but the smile never left me. I became even more attached to the bicycle. In difficult moments, I even spoke to it, as if it could listen to me.<\/p>\n

In Silius, I stopped to talk with a family. The lady looked behind me and, perhaps expecting a group of cyclists, asked:<\/p>\n

“Where are the others?”<\/p>\n

I smiled.<\/p>\n

“It’s just me, the bicycle, and the road.”<\/p>\n

I said it jokingly, but that phrase stayed with me. I had set off alone, but along the way, I was never completely alone. During a journey, the road has always led me to meet people and emotions.<\/p>\n

Along the journey, I received tomatoes, honey, and gestures of kindness that surprised me. At a gas station, I sought oil for the chain and almost by chance met a man who had some with him. Once again, I thought of my mantra: “Nothing happens by chance.”<\/p>\n

Traveling by bicycle had taught me just this: to slow down, observe, and make space for what happens.<\/p>\n

In Sorso, I received the umpteenth stamp on my credentials, an important sign for me that testified to the continuity of my journey, and, among the kindness of the people I met, I found myself holding the Testimonium. I left with teary eyes. I returned to the bicycle and almost felt the need to hug it.<\/p>\n

Then I descended towards the sea. As I set off, I felt almost like those pilgrims who, after reaching Santiago, continued towards Finisterre. I stopped to listen to the waves. I smiled: I had completed the first project. Another remained.<\/p>\n

In the following days, I reached Porto Torres and continued westward. The coast was completely different from the inland: more touristy, full of campers, motorcycles, and travelers. I set off every morning before dawn to avoid the heat and traffic, but above all to witness the slow transition from night to day.<\/p>\n

At Capo Caccia, I arrived just as the sun was rising. I watched it slowly rise, seeing luminous circles within it that changed color continuously.<\/p>\n

Along the coast, I passed through some of the most renowned cities, such as Alghero, Bosa, and Oristano.<\/p>\n

Almost at the end of the journey, I also witnessed the solar eclipse on the coast of Nebida. I saw a dark shape slowly overlap the sun and felt an emotion difficult to explain.<\/p>\n

After thirteen days, I reached Cagliari again. While waiting for the ferry to return to Sicily, I thought about how many Sardinias I had crossed: different, each with its own identity, but all part of the same journey.<\/p>\n

With the Mediterranean Jacobean Route completed and having touched all twenty Italian regions, I didn’t think about the end. I thought about the beginning of a new project.<\/p>\n

Because every goal, for those who still have the curiosity to discover, to challenge themselves, and to step out of their comfort zone, can simply be the beginning of a new adventure.<\/p>\n

[Ugo Brischetta] <\/p>\n

Source link <\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Rediscovering the Path: A 6,500 km Cycling Journey In 2023, I found myself at a…<\/p>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":10352,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_lmt_disableupdate":"","_lmt_disable":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10351","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t