Back then, when I was still young and living in Bavaria I would have never thought that one day I would find myself in North Macedonia. I mean, I was living a very simple life and hardly got out. True enough, I wanted adventure, but my means were limited. Yet, whatever this trip has been, I am almost certain that it will be my last one.
I can feel the pain in every part of my being, and the groans I make while riding through the countryside, especially uphill, are becoming harder and harder to ignore. It isn’t pleasant, and for sure not for a keen ear. Not that I will be sold, mind you – I’m too old for that. But replaced, yes, that is for sure. Maybe there are still some day trips and commutes in me, but cycling thousands of kilometers? No. That will be someone else’s job.
I mean, I am very fond of him, even when he has his meltdowns. It’s almost comical to watch when he loses his temper. Yes, the world is about to end. Of course it’s better to die. Sure, this whole trip – life in general – is conspiring against him. So, I look all serious and suppress the need to chuckle.
I don’t know how his life experience might be, I don’t know how another being, or should I say species, is feeling. Empathy has not been built into me. For me, it is simply the joy of being in the sun and getting some exercise. That is probably why I don’t understand all the drama. What more could possibly be required of me?
I crossed the border into North Macedonia on the 31st of August and left on the 5th of September. Five days. Five days of hills, heat, questionable roads, and considerably more suffering than I had originally signed up for.
An overview of the route, pictures and text can be found on Polarsteps.
What strikes me as curious is that at trafficlight crossings, we have to wait twice, once for each lane. I guess pedestrians and cyclists have lower priority than the other traffic. Or perhaps the traffic lights simply have a particularly low opinion of us.
Anyway, I’ll keep myself short. In case we should not see each other anymore, it was a pleasure having you as passengers on this and former trips.
I suppose I should not complain. I have carried him this far, through heat, hills, and roads that seemed determined to shake me apart. Perhaps that is enough. Perhaps, when the time comes, he will find something newer, lighter, and less inclined to groan beneath him. I cannot say I will miss the work, but I may miss the familiar weight.
Love,
The Bike