My word we’ve met some people in the last (nearly) twelve months of being ‘on the road’.
Fellow cyclists, supermarket checkout staff, people getting in and out of their cars as we sit on the ‘sidewalk’ eating some snacks, campsite neighbours. All nationalities, ages, lifestyles and viewpoints. Everyone’s different. And, of course, even within the ‘community’ of cycle tourers there’s a huge amount of diversity in approaches, journeys and decisions. The conversations are endless.
I say conversations. It’s also quite common (particularly so in America) for people to come up to us, ask a question and not listen to the answer – but then they’ve found their reason to hold forth about something tenuously relevant!
But the conversations are nearly always welcome (maybe for the more extroverted Matt over Sarah!) Though to be fair to Sarah it’s her ‘job’ to stay outside with bikes whilst I do the daily supermarket shop. Oh boy does she have some characters come to speak with her. We obviously look like kindred spirits living on the wind. Some of those folk are far gnarlier or making even odder life choices than we have! (Such as the very lovely but very dishevelled woman pushing a baby stroller round Australia with no baby in it and all her toes poking out of her trainers: “it’s so nice to meet people like me”).
So there’s always questions. Questions are great aren’t they! It’s where we learn things, of course. We’re also learning a lot about people from the questions they ask!
But, as is the purpose of this blog, we thought you might find it funny/interesting to hear what we get asked and we’d like to record for posterity the colour that we’ve encountered along the way. Here’s our Frequently Asked Questions from the trip so far, with a few at the end which for cultural reasons are country specific. Anything goes in Korea!
Where have you come from?
By far the most common question, which is now answered immediately with “do you mean today or our trip in total” – as it’s impossible to know which they’re actually asking, and it’s often both! They see the bags and know we’re not out for a day ride. Some people’s brains melt out of their ears when we say we set off nearly 12 months ago. Most people think they’ve misheard and then change the subject to the weather.
How far are you going?
Today? Well, we’re up to Gold Beach, for example. Which sometimes gets advice about route choice (often useless, as folk don’t cycle, they only drive) and sometimes gets a disappointed “oh, that’s not very far!” or “you should be going to such and such” which is often another 100 miles up the road…!
Where are you from?
This one’s easy, right? We’re British. And then they want to know where we live. Well, we’re from Yorkshire. But we don’t have a house there. But no we weren’t born there. And no, I haven’t met Brian from Woking…
We’ve of course had people assume where we’re from. For some reason in America we’ve had many folk think that both of us are Australian. I often say that I’m from Manchester, as it’s the closest big city to where we lived and it has some rather famous football teams. It’s not uncommon for people to announce that “I knew I could hear a Mancunian accent!” Those who have heard me talk know I’m definitely not at all Manc! And then when I say I’m actually from a place called Boston it all gets a bit silly.
But that’s not too different to how I feel back in the UK sometimes. Northerners think Southern. Southerners think I’m Northern. And my midlands family of Copes think I’ve been tainted by marrying out of the Lincolnshire gene pool to the distant lands of Norfolk. They probably have a point.
Why on earth are you doing this?
Well, that’s a great question isn’t it. If it’s the right person at the right time, we’ll let them in a little (palate cleanser after a pretty brutal five years of trying for a baby, and doing something that we can do and not focussing on what we can’t). But quite often the answer of “why not? Life’s for living and we’ll only pass this way once” seems to be the way to go. Which is often met with a raised eyebrow and them toddling off wondering if that’s a sane enough reason to sell our house, leave (my) job and mostly live in a tent.
Is your bum sore?
Not particularly. Though speaking for myself, one cheek has turned into scaly dragon skin and the other is a highly polished cow hide.
Well, you did ask.
Saddle sores have appeared now and again – but keeping clean each day (myself and my shorts) have meant issues have been very infrequent. Not riding in padded shorts has helped a lot with ease of cleanliness, and my leather Brooks saddle means a cushioned tush isn’t required. Wonderful.
You must be so fit!
Ha! I guess we must be to still be turning the pedals. But I really really don’t feel it… I’m always tired and a bit stiff. Maybe if I took it easy for a fortnight I’d feel the fitness AND the freshness.
I’ve felt ‘fit’ twice on this trip – a week in Austria, where I could climb at tempo and then nearly 11 months later into Seattle. Keeping up with the roadies on the climbs, the flats and the descents, all whilst carrying over 20kg of kit. That’s a nice feeling.
I love riding my bike, and I’m looking forward to riding my bike for exercise and for short rides again. Touring is a different sport!
Where’s the best place you’ve been?
SO many places have been amazing, in so many ways. New Zealand and Japan are the two that come to mind.
New Zealand has the beaches, mountains, hills and plains. Great camping infrastructure, incredible cycle routes that gets you away from traffic. And pretty ideal cycle touring weather: warm days and cool nights.
Japan has many of that, but not the off road routes… but their local roads are so quiet and traffic speed limits are really low. The culture is so interesting to learn about, their temples and shrines are stunning and the food is great, varied and easily accessible. The campsites can be a little basic at times, but they’ve also been some of the most stunning for evening views. You can’t have it all ways!
Is it not unsafe?
Riding our bikes every day on the roads, through 25 countries has some inherent risks of course. We spend hours plotting routes which minimise that risk, cycling very cautiously, with really good lights, helmets and sometimes hi-vis. The scariest times have been dogs and logging trucks, both of which we have strategies for (the latter tend to use certain routes at certain times, which the locals know!)
But life itself can be unsafe, can’t it? I didn’t always feel as happy or as well as I knew I should before we left for this trip. I don’t feel that way anymore, so sometimes you just have to do things.
Wow! You’ve not got much stuff have you?
Nope! I can mentally list every single item of property I have. Carefully curated, minimised and packed – and I curse every single item when the climb gets steep. I am missing having a variety of of clothes… I have one outfit to cycle in, and one to not cycle in. Plus warm and dry things. It’s liberating but a bit monotonous. It’s also annoying if you’re a messy eater like I am.
Holy heck! You guys are travelling heavy!
Yeah. As I said, the cycle touring community is diverse! We’re definitely trying to find the balance of comfort (long trip) vs being lightweight for enjoyable cycling. With the added challenge of cycling through many different climates and seasons. There’s several things we could ditch and have a decent time still (such as the lightweight chairs) but they make evenings at basic campsites so much more enjoyable.
I’ve got my cycling shoes, some lightweight shoes and flip flops. Three types of footwear to many cycle tourers is a luxury, but going into a freezing cold camp shower barefoot is grim enough already – and we don’t need to get worn down by those experiences! We’re trying to go far and have fun, and not worry about being fast.
Can I lift your bike up?
And they NEVER wait for me to say yes! As you can probably understand, I’m very protective of my bike. If it’s stolen or breaks, the trip has some serious problems! And frustratingly people always reach for a delicate bit (the nose of the leather saddle) and then yank it up, and either can’t lift it (unsurprisingly) or wobble about with it… whilst I calmly try and extricate them from it. Quite frustrating!
Are they e-bikes?
Well, some days we wish they were! But there’s enough charge-min (charging admin) already for our various devices, without worrying about that.
Where do you keep your bike boxes for flying?
I genuinely think people sometimes assume that we’ve packed a box in one of our bags which can consume the entire bicycle somehow. But no. And we’re not buying posh plastic hard-case bike boxes either. We get to our terminal city (such as Tokyo) and go to a bike shop, and hope they have a cardboard box from a recently sold/built bike to give us. In Istanbul we had to pay the bike shop a few dollars. In Tokyo they didn’t want to say they’d didn’t have one, but didn’t have one… and in New Zealand our kind hosts (Julie and Ian) were experienced tourers so knew the pain of finding a box and shifting it across a city. So they got them for us!
Dismantling them and packing them can be a bit of a pain, but so far we’ve had no dramas (except the silly small bike boxes we eventually found in Japan being a bit of a squeeze for my farmgate-sized bike frame!) We say a little prayer, tape them up and then do a little dance at the airport luggage claim when the ‘team’ is reunited.
Did you get that bike here?
Rude! Look at it. It’s a beautiful bike, does it look like the kind of bicycle that I’ve wandered into a high street shop and walked out with?
Okay, maybe it does look like any other bicycle to most people.
But we spend all day on them, so they need to be comfy, they need to be reliable and it’s really not expensive to fly with a bike. We’ve taken a few flights with the bicycles now and most of the time we pay a small surcharge due to the size (about £30) and then the big bike box swallows all our belongings up as well as the bikes themselves.
You two must be millionaires!
Talking about money can be a bit awkward, can’t it? But this isn’t an uncommon question to be asked (especially in South Korea). In the grand scheme of the world we’ve explored, we are undoubtedly wealthy. And that’s unsettling and humbling to see.
The trip itself is nowhere near as expensive as many think – the budget we’re on each week is far away from what a ‘normal’ holiday budget would be. The big holiday expense items are usually transport, accommodation and food; and our (cheap) answer to those is the bicycle, the tent and the Trangia stove.
We’re also not running a house back home – and ‘the bills’ all add up, none of which we have to pay if you don’t have a TV, a boiler, a council tax band, etc! But obviously we’re not earning anything either…
We’re both also nearly 40 (I know, I know… you all thought I was a lot younger than Sarah) and of course not having children has had a financial impact; no career breaks (a double whammy of lack of earning and delayed career advancement), no part time hours/wage, no childcare costs… so we do have a bit of pocket money to spend on adventures.
Do you have to eat lots?
A disgusting amount, to be honest. But I’ve done a whole post about that previously. The volume of food definitely varies with the weather… if you’re in the tent shivering all night, you wake up even hungrier!
There’s only one meal I haven’t finished, and it was one I cooked myself. It was dried ground beef and seaweed on top of rice. It smelt strongly of the dog food (Tesco value line) we gave our dog Arnold when I was a teenager. That and the fact our bowls look like collapsible dog bowls meant for a sensory overload that couldn’t be ignored. It went in the bin.
The worst meal I have eaten is a pack of dried noodles with the flavouring shaken on top, but left dried and uncooked. It was the night we slept at the top of a mountain pass and knew there was a tap there for water. Sadly the tap was disconnected!
Do you get a lot of punctures?
Nope! Though we have had some – around 10 between us at a guess, and that’s close to 38,000km in total. Both of us have got one of our original tyres on the bike still (the rear wears quicker due to the weight over the rear axle and the fact it’s the one that’s driving you forward). We’re running Schwalbe Marathon Mondials (40mm) they’re great for puncture resistance but are definitely a little slow and heavy!
(Update! Since writing but before posting this we’ve had three punctures in the US. Their hard shoulders are full of grit, rocks and debris – and a lot of that debris is shredded metal cages from within lorry tyres which can pierce through the toughest bicycle tyre.)
How are you going to adjust to going home?
Great question this one… and I guess the honest answer is I don’t know until it happens! Seeing everyone again will be great, having a home and walking out of the shower in just a towel (or less!) will be a welcome change. And slippers. And having more than 24 hours of food in stock. But I’ll miss the adventure, the daily time on my bike, the time with Sarah, the wonderful sights and the challenges which we rise to. So, we’ll see.
Have you been to Wimbledon?
Not sure what that’s got to do with the price of bread, but there we are, mid chat and this corker comes our way.
Yes we have. Don’t do the morning queues. Go after work. Get a cheap pass to enter the grounds. Then go to the big courts and get great seats as they want them full. And loads of people leave early as they have a long way to travel home. So there you go!
How will you have changed?
This question stopped me in my tracks. We were laid in the grass enjoying the view with some cheese chatting to three badass ladies climbing up Dansey’s Pass the other way to us (the even harder way!) and one of the three asked this question amidst lazy chat about smearing bananas in Nutella, or dipping dates in peanut butter. “How will you have changed when you go back?”
Well. Erm. I. Err. I don’t know. It’s been such a long time away (14 months, 25 countries and probably close to 23000km by the time we return) that inevitably I will be different. I think our relationship is different, as well as how we are as individuals. And I think many of those things are good. I’m more confident in what makes me happy. Less needing to fill a quiet space with chat that doesn’t need chatting. Happier to say yes to things. More willing to say no to things and situations and people. More aware of what my body can do. What cold and wet and hot and humid mean, and how they affect life and pleasure. I’m more appreciative of what my body can do and how it hasn’t failed me on this trip. I’m a bigger believer in the kindness of people and strangers. I’m excited to have my ‘things’ back, but think a simpler existence might not be a bad thing. I’m more sure than ever that bicycles are brilliant.
Ask me again sometime and I may have a better answer.
Have you lost weight?
Always love this question – what is it with cyclists and weight? Both of us are pretty much the same weight as when we left. We’re both stronger on the upper body from being active and moving and lifting things all day. But we don’t really look different. My bum and thighs are a bit bigger with muscle, I like to think. But my weight is nearly the same – it fluctuates only by a few kg, and that’s probably the different bathroom scales I keep stepping on!
And now a few country specific questions…
Your thighs must be really strong (Korea)
There’s obvious answers to this, but sadly neither of the old men waited for the answer and instead just went ahead and gave my thighs a good slap and squeeze to find out. We’d read that this is a ‘thing’ within the big cycling community out there, and they weren’t wrong!
How old are you? (Korea)
At the time of writing, we’re both 39 (can we stay that age please?!)
Age is a big deal in South Korea – you respect your elders and follow instructions (to put it simply), and in return they look after their younger citizens. So we think people were keen to know where we fit into the hierarchy, especially with our different (youthful?) looking faces!
We had lots of gifts in South Korea from neighbours at campsites or people outside shops, and we think that the age thing was a big driver for this. Plus their generous culture!
Are you from Australia? (America)
No. No I’m not. I’m really sorry to disappoint you.
Can you let me know if my English accent is any good? (America)
The man asks, in front of his wife. He then stutters and gets embarrassed. So I go all Dick van Dyk “excuse me mista can I clean ya chimney?” – which he then joins in on, excruciatingly badly. Bizarre.
Do you have a podcast/are you sponsored? (America)
We hadn’t been asked this at all before coming to America! Along the way people have wanted to follow us (cyclists now follow us on Strava that have ridden next to us and chatted in various countries) and a few other cycle tourers and kind hosts have found our blog, but we’re now asked for our ‘socials’ every few days! We’ve now made a QR code that people can scan and find our blog easily, which has been quite useful.
The podcast question is especially bizarre; I’ve started asking people if they’d listen to it if I did, and I’ve yet to have a positive response! There’s definitely something in the American psyche about having a side hustle to try and make some extra cash, or to shout about what you’re doing and hope the ‘right people’ notice you. Interestingly, when people ask if they can follow our adventure and I say we have a blog, lots of them turn right off. They just want pretty photos and a few sentences on Instagram!
So on that note, here’s a final sentence and a pretty photo. As ever, thanks for reading!
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